"N-no, you can't be serious!"
Sgt. Devolle's bright frog-like reddish yellow eyes widened as he viewed the hologram of the Survivalist's ace in the hole descending into a fiery obliteration as shapes as small as bugs beside the behemoth sky fortress darted in and around the doomed craft. The pale white of the message sent by Beraxis Flight, who's job was to guard the Silent Killer, gave the dark obsidian room, dotted with blinking red lights, a haunting ghostly glow as if predicting the ominous and apprehensive feelings that emanated from the occupants of the room.
"Dr. Narvid and the rest of the Research Division assured us that this superweapon was foolproof and would finish off the Fantine meddlers. Was he mistaken?"
"Heh!" Colonel Guraff of the Survivalist Mechanized Forces snorted at Ulric' s remark. "You all assumed this death machine was shatterproof and had no weaknesses? Clearly, you have no experience in military research."
"I assume you do?" Merv crossed his four pinscher-like arms.
"And what of Beraxis flight? " Sythe stated. " Wasn't it their job to defend this 'invisible' skycraft from enemy planes?"
"We could have done a better job if our brilliant operations manager hadn't sidelined us, clipping our wings. I wager no one saw the Royal Air Corps' intrusion in the battle coming?" Beraxis lead's voice cut through the comms like a boat's hull through water. "Did any of your forces even catch the Royal Imperial armored columns and troops spilling into the Kithar lands and flanking us from all sides? Surely, a force that large couldn't have been missed on your sensors, could they have?"
Before any of the officials could conjure up a response to the accusations, there was a beeping sound on Captain Rena 's pager. The bickering between the officials ceased as the Ranger's commander in the Kithan Theater pressed the black button on her silver device that shone as bright as a time teller in the dim light.
" Captain Karula Rena of the Ranger Battalion 18 speaking, over. "
"Madam, this is Jackal of the Rangers Scouting Legion. The attacking forces have overwhelmed us from all around. I repeat, we are being routed from all angles!" A voice belonging to a young man rang out. "We would like to request reinforcements."
"Negative," Rena responded curtly. "We sent all forces we had to stem the invader's advance. If what you say is true, then our cause is done for."
Devolle felt his chest get as cold as Iskartan ice.
No, it can't be. I won't accept this operation as a failure. We will fight until the last man to dispel these invaders.
"Surely, we must have some reserve forces that don't have their hands full at the moment to take on our foes until I can request back up from High Command at the Bunker," the Operations Manager suggested, glancing between the commanders of the forces in his latest project.
Haly'ya reared her head back and laughed. "Ha! You can request it from Breda. Oh, pardon me, but he is out there risking his fat neck with his troops. What a brash adrenaline junkie."
"Inferring from the situation in the field, he might either be a corpse among several broken and charred bodies or he might be in the custody of our foes," General Ludd added. "Besides, it isn't like SIN or Mithros would send reinforcements to a lost cause."
"So what do you suggest we do, General?" Devolle, anxious for a solution to this unexpected conundrum, glanced over at the Kriegeran veteran commander.
It was Ulric the Blood Elf who spoke up. "If you have any sense between that thick noggin, I suggest you give us the order to recall whatever is left of our forces and get the heck out of dodge."
"You are the Air Defense Force commander in the Outer Territories, are you not?" Haly'ya retorted. "Why don't your Air Defense Systems do anything about our hairy situation?"
There were snorts and cackles as Ulric shot the espionage specialist from the Ice Lands a look with his bright yellow eyes. "In case you haven't heard, my forces have been out of commission thanks to the Caterpillar virus and enemy attacks."
" What is your status? What are you up against?" Rena radioed into the device on her wrist.
"A whole wave of stormtroops!" The sounds of laser fire and explosions were heard as well as shouts and screams. "Oh Khoruun! They are punching through! I repeat, they are- Ahhh!"
Devolle nervously fidgeted as the transmission went dead. His eyes went from all the commanders in the room to the guards patrolling the dark structure.
"Any suggestions on how to tackle our enigma?"
"I concur with Ulric. I really think we should pull out and fight another day," Guraff grudgingly admitted. "As you heard, enemy forces are breaking through and it will only be a matter of time before they discover this place. No shame in a tactical retreat, Devolle. "
The Dathurian overseer opened his mouth to object, but the looks on the faces of the operation commanders dissuaded him from voicing his objections. Letting out a sigh of resignation, Sgt. Devolle keyed his communicator and ordered all remaining forces to progressively pull out from Kithan .
"Do not engage the enemy unless you really have to. Rendezvous point is at 0.356 South and -0.543 East. Avoid squadding up in large convoys as that will make you all attractive targets for Fantine and Capitol air and infantry forces. Let's hope we will meet again in a safer location. Hail Survival!"
"Did you really ask them to rendezvous at a specific coordinate system?" Sythe frowned. The Hylian's jet black pupil-less eyes reminded Devolle of a Speehler shark from the Barush Islands. "That is only asking for trouble. You might as well paint a target on our convoys."
Before the disgraced director of operations could utter a response to the humbled Defense Official's indignation, his comms crackled to life.
"Director, this is General Olivier of the 332nd Division. I have sent Corporal Mimring with a detachment of troops and armor to escort you to safety. I will be taking a different route myself past the Garff Temple ruins to avoid drawing attention to our forces. Godspeed to you, Outer Strike Force, I look forward to liberating this world of the poisonous influence of the Capital. Hail Survival!"
As soon as the transmission ended, Captain Rena grumbled under her breath.
"Well that blows. Olivier gets to bail out of the war zone with her troops promptly while we have to wait here for our escorts. This lacks justness."
No sooner had the words left her mouth that a new transmission came in.
"Outer Strike Force, this is Corporal Mimring of the 332nd , over," the voice snarled. "The general sent me to provide escort for you and your contingent to safety. We need to act now as our reports show the Royal forces rapidly closing in on our location. As soon as you are loaded, we will set off. Best hurry as once a Capitol trooper is thought to be spotted, we will take off and leave you at the mercy of the enemy. Mimring out."
No one had to be reminded of the of the gravity of the situation as they rose with what entourage they had come with and began to exit out of the sleek black sliding door of Base 64 and file out into the hazy smoke and ash-filled environment. This marked the most intense conflict seen in the Offworld since Khaotic invasion of the kingdoms, the Skymar rebellion, the Ork-Imp sacking of Alamina, the Great Kithar-Kaneen Conflict, and the Ratakhi-Asahi War yet none of those came close to the great threat posed to the Offworld's current order that SFF posed since it's founding by Horace Lupadan. Once thought defeated by Fantine under the Plotonian Director Ashy'yr, the current Emperor's father Magnus IV, and the fledgling power of the fiefdoms known to the world as the Great Kingdoms , SFF had merely waited in the shadows for decades, biding its time and building its army, before revealing itself once more.
No way have we waited patiently, anxious to strike at the corrupt sovereigns running our resourceful world, only to run like Earnestian hens, Devolle bitterly thought as the sleek black or royal blue multi-purpose vehicles materialized from the hazy noon, their bright lights piercing through the smoke and ash raining from the metal blue sky like Iskartan snow. The operators activated the sliding doors as the SFF Marines hopped off to assist the officers in loading the vehicles. Several APCs and half tracks , including Armadons, Clawdons, and Kharkadons, parked themselves to the sides to provide cover should enemy forces think to attack them during the boarding.
"Move out, Move out, double march!" Mimring, the Drakonian officer of the 332nd, ordered where he was perched upon the ledge of one of the Armadons. The rusty bronze reptilian, his snake-like eyes, scanning the whole vicinity, continued to direct the mass exodus of the remaining Survivalist staff. "Once you are inside, we will take off into the Great Expanse. We will waste no further time in evacuating. Now move it!"
No sooner had Devolle squeezed himself inside a blue MPV with the Marine's insignia between a couple troops or guards, the vehicle's doors began to slide closed. No sooner had the Marines escorting them leapt back inside and removed their Plastid goggles, the MPVs started to started to roll out. Glancing out the window and past the escorting vehicles, he then noticed that the SFF defenders that remained behind were exchanging fire with unseen enemies. As the blue, red, and green lasers shot through the smoggy air, a large flash erupted into a ball of flame where the Outer Strike Force leadership brass were situated about ten minutes prior. The fire ball was so bright and intense that Devolle felt the heat even from inside the vehicle.
Through the brightness of the flaming wreck that was once his commanding office, the Dathurian mission coordinator watched a Ranger try to crawl away from the destruction toward them, but a Capitol Commando, unmistakable in white and gray armor with a amber t-shaped visor, chanced upon him. Sgt. Devolle swore he saw the wounded Ranger reach a hand out toward the escaping convoy as if to grab on for a ride only to be executed by the commando's 1.1 phaser.
As much as I admire the Rangers and Marines for their bravery ,unwavering loyalty , and determination, I only wish I could spare them from the Capital's brutality. I guess their sacrifice was essential for our escape.
After 7 minutes, the southern tip of Kithan, visible by the faint glow of orange flames, receded once they went deeper into Expanse. As the hazy atmosphere started to recede and the sky took a more natural blue, a large metallic dagger-shaped craft started to take form in the Northern Territory airspace behind them. To his amazement and surprise, Devolle recognized it as the Xystarr carrier. It was brimmed to the edges with laser cannon emplacements to defend the troops, armor, weapons and material it carried from air attacks. The Kithan operation's director hoped that the vast majority of the troops that remained to provide oversight for the withdrawal were on the carrier.
"Contact, 8' clock!"
Startled by the 332nd convoy's spotter on the vox, the disgraced commander then noticed something materialize from the Xystarr's port side toward the war zone. Once it cleared the smoke, the maeve behemoth loomed behind SFF's carrier like a Fenrir over it's prey. A look of stark despair was plastered on Devolle's face as he recognized the massive terror zeroing in on the withdrawing Xystarr carrier. One of the vehicle operator's voiced the planner of the failed operation's concerns.
"We've got a hostile aircraft closing in our flanks, our radar systems have identified it as a Royal-Imperial Onero. How should we respond?"
Devolle only watched as the two carriers faced off against each other, bright white , red , and yellow lasers streaking and small explosions marking hits on each of the combating war machines. In a matter of minutes, the flames shot out of the windows of the Xystarr as its nose started to list to the ground in a slow and steady death descent. In a matter of a couple minutes, the doomed armored carrier made contact with the grass of the Outer Territories, resulting in a fireball and a minor earthquake.
"Sir, how should we respond?"
Devolle sighed as he glanced back at the smoke trailing into the sky and briefly screening the metallic purple dagger, signifying its victory and dominance over the retreating Survies.
"Negative. Just proceed with the withdrawal. We need to get as much armor and personnel safely back to the Bunker as possible."
As the operator voiced his affirmation through the channel, a new order came through the channel.
"332nd Company, unload your final batch of Banshees to give those meddlers a taste of what is to come."
The disgraced director had no idea where the order came from, possibly from the top echelon at the Bunker, but he felt a small measure of relief that they were able to send a message of their frustration to the conquerors and the repercussions that were to come. Unfortunately, watching the blue-black shapes shriek overhead shooting stars like wasn't enough to assuage him of the anxiety gnawing at his innards like a Rotte Rat.
How am I going to explain this disaster to S.I.N. and the head honchos back at the Bunker? Guraff reported that the leadership doesn't give anything beyond second chances, which is already rare, but surely they must understand that I did my best despite our miscalculations about the Capital's involvement in the reconquest of Kithan. Perhaps Mithros can formulate a plan to punish the Capitol.
---
"Come on, double time! We need to get you to the Killer Bee rotator craft that will ferry you out of this desert of a hellhole. Move it while we engage the guards!"
"You don't need to tell me twice!" Mikhail replied to Skandar as he fired his 1.21 at the Military Police and their Riot Trooper allies that were attempting to assail them in order to prevent their escape from the POW encampment. The Fantine infantry squads accompanying them provided covering fire, but it seemed like there was an endless stream of the prisoner of war camp guards. Colonel Paws, Private Claude, and Tubbs stayed out of the line of fire as the guards and their liberators exchanged distinct laser shots.
I am unsure if they have any weapons on them, but the least they could do is pick up a weapon and provide the much needed firepower. There are plenty of guns from fallen troops littering the grounds.
"Guardian ahead!"
Hearing the Fantine soldier's cry, Mikhail glanced ahead and saw the lumbering iron shape with a glowing orange cavity on it's face. Focusing his fire at the hulking behemoth, Fantine's Director sprayed slugs at the mechanical enforcer's head. The Guardian staggered back a bit, prison guards and Survivalist Special Forces skittering among them like mice, before it bumped into the wall, steadied itself, and a bright orange-red ball formed onto the open flap which served as its face.
"It's going to fire! Out of its line of sight now!"
Heeding Skandar's warning, Mikhail hurled himself to the ground as the bright beam of light shot from the Guardian and trailed overhead, striking a couple Fantine Infantry troops, turning into a smoking pile. Once the heat of the blast cleared, Mikhail rose and looked around.
"Guys, move around and do not stay rooted to one spot. That golem won't be able to latch onto a target as easily. It is most likely protected by a barrier from a mage nearby. Cover me as I locate the source running this animated object."
"Easy for you to say!" Claude shouted as he and the escaping Kithar, both military and resistance, took cover behind doorways and dull structures to exchange fire with the Survivalist prison guards. "We are being pinned by enemy fire from all over. "
The air turned parching once more as the Guardian fired a second blast of the vaporizing beam, striking a Kithar soldier and an anti-SFF rebel.
"I suppose I can toss a bone to you."
Mikhail took cover behind a wall with glowing blue storages and hurled a grenade where the largest squad of Survivalists were congregated. Once the explosion dispersed them, Fantine's top executive peeked out from behind cover and his eyes scanned the processing room until he located the mage, safe behind a designated room with dark purple rays the color of his cloak encircling it.
Blast it! How could I forget that these enchanters that the Survivalists contract are smart enough to not leave themselves undefended? How shall I proceed to take him out?
Mikhail glanced back to see a couple of what remained of his elite guard engage the remaining Survivalists as the Guardian lumbered forward, its dull metallic steps thudding across the rough floor of the prison, loading a third glowing light of heat. If he couldn't figure out a solution to the conundrum soon, then more troops would be lost to the metallic guard.
Think, Mikh, think! Last time, what took out the mage? The element of surprise played a vital role- Hey!
At the moment Fantine's top commander realized what it took to defeat the Survivalist enchanter, the back of the room gave way, causing the roof to crumble onto the first half of the room. Mikhail leapt back, coughing up the dust that rose when he realized what had caused the cave in.
"Come on, let's move on out!" Skandar ordered , motioning everyone to the Killer Bee, it's hatch open.
Glancing around, he noticed the arm of the Guardian, buried on the rubble of the wrecked SFF prison, smolder a bronzish color under the souled sky before settling in a dark golden hue as the escaped prisoners hurried to the airships to leave. One thing Mikhail noticed was was that no Subjugators or Riot troops were left to oppose them, he decided that the prions break was a success and ran to the rotator's ramp and leapt upon it, being pulled up by an Armored Core trooper.
"Thank you, Joey." The Director of Operations smiled at the infantry trooper as Scandar also leapt on board before the ramp shut. On either side, two more forest green Bees took in Scotty , the rest of the Mech units, and the Kithar resistance as handful of Kithar helis hovered nearby as escorts.
Joey adjusted his goggles over his green camo helmet. "That isn't necessary, Director. We are indebted to you for where we are today. Now you can return the thanks by strapping on and staying alive as we get you out of danger. "
"I'm grateful for your concern," Mikhail set as he grabbed onto a ledge between two of his grey guards as the hovercraft gave a small hum and lurched. "Nevertheless, I am also an adrenaline junkie when it comes to battle especially since my days as a Skymarian rebel. I don't think I can get enough of it. Come to think of it, how did you get past the Guardian? Did it overlook your position? Were we separated when it attacked?"
"Actually," Skandar spoke up. "We were-"
He was interrupted by the persistent beeping of the Chopper's alarm. Mikhail frowned and glanced around,as did the troops on board, for the source of the warning when the intercom announcement responded to his conjecture.
"Warning! Unidentified aircraft are located converging on the helis. Hold on tight. Possibly hostile!"
Outside, one of the Kithar choppers blew into a bright flash of light. Once it rained down its flaming remains in a flurry of oil, metal, and burned corpses, the occupants of the Bee spotted a shape as black as a Lichtstein palace zip by. Five counts later, a blue object appeared behind a second Kithar chopper and stung it, eliminating it from the sky. Mikhail was able to get a good look at the bat-shaped aircraft before it pulled away before warning the others.
"We have Bats in the sky! It appears that the Survivalist air force wasn't entirely routed. Or maybe these were from the Timote air base from the east our forces are besieging. Either we, we must-"
He never got to finish his sentence as the airship lurched violently as if struck by a rancor's fist, veering violently in a spiral toward the left. Mikhail was dashed against the window, striking his head, before seeing how close they listed to the other Killer Bee. The senior commander braced himself as the inevitable jarring impact occurred and through the shouts, screams, the whumping of the defense cannons, and the unmistakable sound of metal being shorn off, he was able to utter the thought that was going through his mind before the darkness took over.
"Summon all available units for reinforcement!"
---
"He is gaining consciousness!"
As the bright lights of the ravaged Kittyopolis greeted his returning vision, Mikhail felt as if there was a Dominion Subcrawler in his head. As the brightness of the lights worsened his migraine, the leader of the Offworld's Peacekeeping force sat up from the cot he was laid upon to gaze at the burning wreckage of the choppers ahead as Fantine and Kithar forces took cover, exchanging fire with an enemy in the distance. He knew that the Survies were moving in to make the kill like predators.
"Sir, you mustn't exert yourself like this!" Two infantry men who doubled as the medics tried to restrain him. "You took a blow to the head-"
"I was wearing a helmet, damn you!" Mikhail grumbled as he waved them away from. "The pain is only temporary. "
The two orange and green soldiers with the red cross patched to their elbows only exchanged glances, knowing it was useless to argue with their superior. "Very well, at least let us inject you with Probacteria to cauterize any unseen wounds."
Soon, Mikhail wielded his 1.21 and hurried to join the fighters engaging the Survies and their Kaneen allies. On the way, he spotted Scandar, Joey, and Scottie being tended to by medics. Just between the wing of a shredded Bee and the line of dug-in troops over the wreckage, the Kithars wounded in the Bat attack, including the leaders, were being treated. The Fantine director hurried over to check on them.
"Colonel, private, and Resistance leader Tubbs, how are you faring?"
Before one of the wounded could open their mouths to speak, one of the Kithars assisting the Fantine troops let out a surprised shriek.
"Stalkers incoming!"
No sooner had he said that, a black and brown shape bounded up to him and lunged at him. It was followed by several more hounds with eyes glowing like radioactive waste. As their position was overrun, Mikhail fired some rounds at the Stalkers swarming them. After he downed several of them, one managed to clamp its jaws down on the muzzle of his gun. Tussling it to the ground, Mikhail gritted his teeth as he pulled out his electro-knife and plunged it into the beast's jugular, fatally wounding it. With a defeated wail, the toxic green eyes dimmed and Mikhail dried the blood on his war-torn pantleg.
"Yaargh!"
Startled by the scream, the Director of Operations turned to see Colonel Paus being mauled by two stalkers as a medic lay dead beside the cot. Mikhail managed to take one out as did Private Claude from the next makeshift cot , but it was apparent the effort was too little too late once the Colonel's mutilated corpse became apparent.
"The Survies are coming!"
Glancing over to the 'frontline' where Joey had mentioned, Mikhail spotted SFF troopers and rumbling armor, spearheaded by Gamrans, materialize.
Drat! Of all units., why the 42nd Siege Battalion? Where is our air support? Did our alert not go through? Of course not, we were shot down by the thrice damned Bats.
"Take cover everyone. I was saving this for a moment like this when help isn't coming. "
All eyes turned to Skandar as he fished something out of his military pack. Mikhail could see that it was a star-shaped object the size of a Tarantillo that glittered several shades of blue. His eyes grew three sizes as he recognized it.
"Skandar, you aren't serious! Where did you procure a weapon of mass destruction of that caliber? It is outlawed by the Royal-Imperial decree."
Skandar only shook his helmet-encased head. "No time for that now. I will tell you how an anti - drug operation in the Banh'Chi'Kali jungle yielded this, but for now, shoot at it once it reaches optimal height."
As Skandar loaded it in a launcher, Mikhail took a sharpshooter position and once the commander of Fantine's infantry launched the blue star after a countdown, Mikhail took aim and watched the weapon glow like a bright star. Once the Survies halted their assault and turned their attention to the morning star, Fantine's director fired a shot. Nothing seemed to happen for a few seconds, but then the object bursting into a blinding sapphire light and raining down burning electric blue meteors onto the blitzing SFF troops. The shouts and screams of the burning troops haunted Mikhail yet gave him a sense of relief as well. He felt a hand grip him by the back on his back and yank him under the wreckage of a nearby Bee as more sapphire meteors rained down on them.
"You shouldn't stay out in the open. It's only the Feddies that deserve to burn."
The Skymarian then turned to his right to see Joey and Private Claude taking cover with him under what used to be the canopy of a Fantine attack copter.
"What about the wounded that were left out in the open?"
Scottie appeared beside his left side, his 0.27 rifle pointed ahead in case any enemy soldiers decided to pop in uninvited. Nearby, Claude the remaining Kithar military officer whirled around and his green feline eyes grew wide.
"No, the civvies must stay put! They are only exposing themselves to the dangers of the battlefield!"
The three Fantine commanders turned to see a Kithar woman and her two kits to offer water canteens to the Kithar fighters who were hunkered down in a battle-scarred alley. From the darkness, a shiny metallic form with eyes like the front lights of a Zathurian sports speeder enshrouded in a cream hood materialized behind the civilians and raised a large broadsword. The Kithar woman and the kids turned as the Wraith struck. The Kithar rebels raised their primitive guns to fire on the ghastly figure, but the Fantine soldiers knew the weapons would be as useful as using a flamethrower on a river. Suddenly, a round green object flew between the Wraith and its intended victim and detonated once the sword cut through it. As the mystical being staggered back, it's hood in flames, a trooper in the red-striped armor of the Fantine Shocktroops raised his fist and shot a jet of flames onto the wounded Wraith. With a final bloodcurdling howl, the ghastly Survivalist evaporated into the ash-strewn atmosphere.
"Captain Heinrich of the Shocktroopers reporting for duty! Any sector in need of a cleanup, we are on our way!"
Around them, several Droppers appeared and crouched either behind cover or in plain sight before taking out Survies with their PX-3 carbines. Above them, a white and red-striped Zephyr gunship began to land in the middle of a crater- marked park while a couple Shocktroopers approached Mikhail and the Infantry commanders.
"Sir, we need to evacuate you quickly. Load the bird ASAP!" Buraki, a Shocktrooper lieutenant, motioned rapidly.
"No need to tell us twice!" Skandar responded as he, his two lieutenants, and Mikhail hurried on board. Behind them, Private Claude, supported by Claude, also made their way onboard with the Fantine troops as the hatch closed and the gunship rose with a whine of its engines. No sooner had they lifted off than the alarms rang.
"4 SFF Bats converging on our arse!" The pilot shouted.
Great. It seems the Survies control the skies around Kittyopolis.
"Not for long!" A familiar voice rang out on the vox. "We will take care of it once and for all."
"Ari!" Vold replied. "You finally answer the call for reinforcements."
"Ah, put a sock on it! We were getting our butts bailed out by the Saints and the Royal-Imperials. After all, they are the ones who destroyed SFF's 'ghostcraft' and have their ground forces pushing the Survies out. Flying and teleporting isn't the same thing. "
Mikhail glanced outside the window to see a black sinister shape close in on their aircraft. The executive soldier tensed himself as the enemy plane prepared to fire on them. A flash from the corner of his eye streaked across the sky and made contact with the Bat, turning it into a bright fireball. A familiar aircraft darted by the window before tipping its wing in a sort of salute.
"Here is the Fantine Flight Eagle answering the call of duty. Consider the remaining interceptors taken care of and make way to Bastakhmet International airport to land and touch bases with Ahron, Tarkiss, and the rest of the Royal-Imperials. You are welcome!" Ari's voice rang out over the Zephyr's intercom.
---
"Sir, we have stormed and secured the city. While we have small pockets of resistance from the remnants of the Survy army in the hydroplant and the northwest sector, we can confirm that they will no longer be a threat."
The famed Kittyopolis Hydroplant, huh? Quite symbolic as it was installed there by the Royal Engineering Core under the Emperor's grandfather as a token of our partnership with the Kithars.
The Commandant watched the scene unfold from the large Condor Command and Observation craft which seated the Capitol's officers who were directing the effort to boot SFF and their Kaneen allies out of the Kithar homeland. Once the liberation of Kithan was confirmed, the Capitol and the Great Kingdoms would decide the punishment to be slapped onto the Kaneens for breaching the treaty and aiding/abetting the Capitol, Kingdoms, and Fantine X's greatest enemy, but the latter would also have a say in what it is. Moreover, they will have to be ones to enforce the penalty(s) due to their status as a peacekeeping force. Veerus had his doubts.
I assume they would try to get the damn dogs to repent for their crimes and possibly hope to rehabilitate them and use them against their Survie masters. That's a pathetic approach to the Kaneen's treachery. Shall I have been in charge, I'd have their military disassembled and have our troops occupy Kaneen as well as forcing them to pay reparations to the Kithars and to the Capitol.
"Sir, we have visual on our target. Breda and his adjutant have come out of the hatch of their armored vehicle, but some of the 22nd gunners and the specialized Survy squads accompanying them are making the capture of the Survivalist officer difficult for us," Lord Langre informed his superior from the ground.
"Take out anyone who fires at you or gives you a tough time. When you reported that you had General Breda in your sights, I assumed your troops would have him in our clutches by now. I was flying inside this Condor because the Saints had reported that the skies above Kithan are free of enemy aircraft. Perhaps we should be on the lookout for possible SFF air attacks?"
"That won't be necessary. The Royal Air Divisions as well as our Fantine allies confirmed that after the Silent Killer was destroyed, the Survivalist air force and their Kaneen coadjutors fled like startled bats, albeit not without putting up a desperate last ditch effort to win back their substantially damaged dignity. They won't be an issue as we wrap up our operation in sweeping up the Kithar country. The Kithar will be eternally grateful to us."
Veerus sighed as the ship shuddered under some light turbulence . "Very well. Can I request the status of the commando raid on that SFF Command and Control Center? The last I heard, General Tarkiss had called in an airstrike on their 'secret' base."
"It appears that after a sweep of the wreckage, none of the burned bodies belong to any Survivalists higher than a common foot soldier. "
"Pity. We would have dealt a great blow to S.I.N's band of butchers," the Commandant of the Kithar operation grumbled. "Have Tarkiss and the rest of the staff convene in Sorelli square. We are going to have a nice talk with our pal Breda. "
As the bright white lights of the ship shone down on him and the rest of the operators directing the battle, he switched his contact to the pilots of their massive vessel.
"Boys, set course for Kittyopolis military airport. It is high time our boots felt solid ground, wouldn't you agree?"
---
"General Hyliman Breda, it is high time you realize that you are at your rope's end. Take a look around you." Commandant Veerus waved his hand around the ruins of what used to be a thriving city square which was now occupied by Royal Imperial forces." You are surrounded by the Capitol's greatest soldiers and your ignoble brigades as well as those deceitful Kaneen mutts you call allies are long gone. Make this easier on yourself. Surrender now and you will be treated with more mercy than you deserve or resist and feel the wrathful power of the Capitol's Kithar Operation Force. Your choice."
In response, a few of the APC gunners and operators made as if to put their hands up as a gesture of submission, but fired their weapons at their captors. In response, the Fists and stormtroopers let loose with their purplish white plasma rifles and downed the attacking Survivalists.
"Don't try anything funny, Breda!" The overseer of the Capital's Kithar theater drew his slug-throwing pistol from his maroon uniform's chest pocket. "This can only end in two ways so make your pick. One we are done questioning you, I'll consider asking the Ministry of Justice and Disciplinary Action to spare you the electro-guillotine, but that depends on your level of cooperation. What will it be?"
An elite shocker in a sleek metallic olive green armor had a flash from a broken window on the 5th story of a ruined building reflect on his visor. Recognizing the flash of a PITBULL rocket launcher, he turned and leapt before the Commandant he was escorting.
"Brace yourself for impact!" He shouted as the rocket struck the ground between the Capital's special operations soldiers before the shocker. The Commandant stumbled back as one of his elite guards absorbed the blow, cracking his armor and penetrating it. As a result, Veerus was able to survive the assault while the troops that were close to the impact site suffered minor injures and damaged gear. Staring down at the blood leaking out of the dead shocker's cracked visor and coating the ground, the senior commander glanced up at the building it originated from and used Ranger binoculars to get a view of his would-be assailant. Sure enough, a Gamran, with antlers like an elk, was reloading his launcher. Before he could raise it to fire, Commandant Veerus motioned to the building.
"Open fire on that son of a motherless goat before he gets another round out!"
"Copy!" The turrets of the nearest Rhino, which was providing cover by blocking the square from any foolhardy Survivalists or any of their dastardly confederates who would try to make an attempt on the Capital's top forces in the square, rotated with barely a whirr and shot a glowing velvet plasma ball which soared through the air soiled with smog and ash and made contact on the floor the Gamran merc was on just as he was about to fire his weapon a second time. "Target neutralized."
Veerus then glanced back to the lone Kharkadon APC where Breda and his lieutenant were holed up in as he made his way over, flanked by his troops. "Last chance Breda, you have thirty seconds to give yourself up to the Capital's finest before I have to tear apart that pile of scrap heap to get to you. Make it easier on yourself and choose. "
It wasn't long before the hatch opened and Breda slowly exited the tracked armored carrier, his hands in the air. As he got on his knees and put those hands over his head, Capitol troops hurried over to him and hoisted him up. As they attempted to restrain him, Commandant Veerus watched in satisfaction and was prepared to request Tarkiss and Langre to do a final walkthrough of Kithan to make sure it was free of Survivalist scumbags when a voice interrupted him.
"So when were you going to tell us you found a high-ranking Survivalist officer?"
Taken back by the surprise visitors, the Supreme Commander of the Capitol's Kithan forces turned to see Mikhail, Ari, and the rest of the Fantine's whole blasted staff and corps appeared from the hollows of the bomb-outed building from behind him. They were herding a few company of defeated SFF prisoners in addition to their Kaneen and Kithar militia accomplices. A few Kithar accompanied them, some dressed in military fatigues, others in combat gear (Veerus assumed these were part of the resistance), and pointed their guns at the enemy captives.
Blast it all! I was hoping to have Breda as a private ace up our sleeve , but those Fantine meddlers had to stick their nose into our affairs.
Playing it cool, Veerus smiled and lowered his weapon a bit, but kept his finger on the trigger. "Ah, there you are. I was going to call him in once we secured him. After all, we just managed to ensnare him after the resistance he put up. A stubborn one, isn't he? I believe his adjutant is still at large at the moment, but with your assistance, we can apprehend him as well."
"Put the gun down, Commandant. "Mikhail stepped forward. "We are working together on this, don't you forget that. No secrets between us. I expect full cooperation between our forces. We may have been victorious in the battle for Kittyopolis, but the war still remains. The high-ranking SFF officers are still unaccounted for, not to mention the Hangman is lurking among the ruins and rubble of the city, awaiting a chance to strike."
Veerus just laughed. "Not an issue, pal. With a simple request to my underlings, I can have every drone, airship , and patrol scour every bombed-out buildings or vehicles until th-"
The whistling sound cut him off before it turned into the sound resembling a screeching bird of prey. In a matter of seconds, rockets rained down around the vicinity, obliterating tanks and vehicles unfortunate enough to be nearby and causing chaos with the occupying forces. The force of the immense heat of the flattened Rhino knocked the bewildered commandant to his bottom, his cap flying off into the blaze around them.
"Sir, you ok?" One of his elite guards hoisted him up to his feet as the other scanned him for injuries. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Breda, freed after the missile strike, hobble off toward the blazing rubble until a shadowy figured detached itself from the darkness. The Survivalist general could only look on in shock as the ominous figure, his irises glowing like beacons in the ash-covered gloom, raised his vibro-scythe, crackling with an electric purple-blue hue, and hewn off the fleeing SFF officer's head in one swift motion. As the headless green-uniformed corpse crumbled to ground, the head bouncing away on the rubble-strewn ground like a ball, a sinister smirk formed on the assassin's face as glanced over over at the liberators.
All guns were aimed at him as he spoke. "My apologies for dropping in unannounced, but SIN doesn't allow for the surrender of high-ranking officers. With him out of the way, I now have free reign to whittle you all down. You were all fools to expose your executive commanders, Royal-Imperialists and Fantine."
At that moment, the glowing green eyeholes of several Shadow soldiers appeared around the Hangman in a semi-circle, bearing SR-4 rifles. That was when everything erupted in a bright laser fire exchange. Letting out a whoop of delirium, the Razamjami assassin lunged at the Fantine and Capitol positions, hurling obsidian-colored daggers with the Thatos rune glowing red on the hilt. Two of the Commandant's elite guards who had tried to engage the Hangman got struck by the daggers, which cut through the chest armor and the glass of the helmet's face plate like Britannican Bumbleberry pie. Veerus was shoved to the ground by one of his surviving men as the Hangman slashed at him in a downward arc with a glowing red sickle and took the blow instead.
"Guh!" Commandant Veerus hit the floor and watched as the SFF's assassin cut the guard from the left shoulder to the abdomen, scattering blood, gore, and armor, before turning to behead a Capitol soldier before he could draw his arms. "All units , train your fire on the shadow executioner. On the double!"
As all forces, including Fantine, shot their lasers and slugs at the figure flipping through the air like a Xinghan acrobat and lunged at Mikhail, swinging his electro- scythe. Reacting quickly, Mikhail ducked and the scythe buried itself in the side of a bound Kithar prisoner. The humanoid feline, whom Veerus recognized as Wynstone the leader of the pro-SFF militia, shuddered and slide to his knees, limp. Mikhail drew his electron rapier and engaged the assassin. As the two traded blows, the voice of one of his soldiers caught his attention once more.
"Heads up, Commandant."
Startled, he turned to see one of the Hangman's executioners advance on him with a blade outstretched on his gauntlet. His eyes fixed upon the glowing green retractable Zulqifar blade, the supreme leader of the Capitol's Fantine campaign prepared himself to evade the coming blow, but before he could move a muscle, his would-be assailant shuddered as rounds cut through him. Around him, other Shadow troops were bisected, had their heads explode, or lost limbs as if struck by an invisible force. Glancing up, Veerus noticed a small blue insectoid shape outlined against the dark blue sky zip by.
"Thanks for the assist, Sentery!" One of the Fantine flight leaders raised his hand to the sky. "We didn't forget about the Ninja."
The Hangman had paused his skirmish with Fantine's head executive to look at what all forces were glancing at. Mikhail, seeking to use the distraction to his advantage, grabbed the glowing green chains of the slain Kithar prisoner and wrapped it around the Razamjami cat's paw's neck and started to strangle him. The assassin's hat slid off, revealing a bald patch around his stringy dark hair with silver outlines, as he violently struggled to break free from Mikhail's hold.
"This is for Tarkhun, Bartleby, and the soldiers and innocent victims you took. Rot in oblivion, your own trashcan where you should have been sent a long time ago."
Letting out his final death rattle, the Hangman's headlight eyes slowly rolled back into his head and he fell limp. Huffing and puffing, Mikhail let his victim go and glanced over at Veerus as two Fantine operatives approached him to assist him.
"You can thank us , Commandant, by not withholding any information from us. "
Veerus bristled as he faced his Fantine counterpart. "Well, we got Breda and the bloody assassin, but where is his blasted adjutant?"
One of the Flight leaders, his rank apparent by his green and orange jacket marked by 2 eagles, stepped forward. "We were thinking you were hiding him in a Capitol black site, torturing him as you were planning to do with Breda."
"You have the audacity to-"
The affronted commandant was about to berate this audacious airman when the hatch of the damaged Kharkadon armored vehicle slid open. Everyone's attention turned to see a young man with the tan skin of a Luxorian slide out and aim a phaser at the airman and fire. Struck on the shoulder, the Fantine flyer staggered back. All sides peppered Tarik with laser fire, resulting in him crumpling to the ground. Mikhail and the other Fantine commanders hurried over to the wounded airman.
"Ari, you alright? We need to have the MediBots look into that."
Ari only chuckled. "It is only a minor flesh wound, nothing more."
"Obstinate, as always," a Shocktrooper commander grumbled.
There was the sound of crumbing when dozens of red and gold tanks crashed through the damaged infrastructure, causing the building to collapse. As it stopped before the contingent, a man with long dark brown hair, clad in red and purple armor, and flanked by tankers, slid down from the open hatch and appeared before them. Veerus knew that this was Tarkiss, General of the Royal Legions, who had before this conflict with the Survivalists, Fantine, Kithar, and Kaneen, headed the Royal-Imperial effort to reduce poaching and smuggling in the Offworld's wilderness hotspots teeming with game.
The rubble then started to swirl and the sound of whumping engines were heard when a Kite attack chopper landed between the tanks and the victors. Langre exited and shared a glance with Tarkiss before speaking.
" Commandant, we saw the rockets strike and came here as fast as we could. Should we declare all sectors clear?"
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