The Raging Hounds XII: Sade Campaign Part 3: Blazing Skies
#12 of The Raging Hounds
This story, all the characters and the universe in which it takes place are all belong to Rhazagal! No stealing, obviously. Have fun!
A special thanks for my friend Silv aka. Sadetanssija for mercilessly whipping me to write and making this story possible :3
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The dull thudding of artillery could be heard as a distant rumble inside the generator building's top floor, the vibrations sent by the impacts causing the entire building to shake faintly, dust and bits of plaster showering down from the ceiling every now and then.
Jim stood guard by the doorway leading out of Inquisitor Rodigus' office, the Dalmatians sharp eyes scanning the dark corridor for any movement, finger twitching near the trigger of the assault rifle he had taken from the corpse of a human trooper.
The lack of light wasn't too much of a hindrance to Jim, as the faint red, shadowy illumination cast by light strips near the floor -showing the quickest route out- was all the dog needed.
Jim dared to throw a brief glance at the Colonel and Vincent who were working on waking Dan up, the massive wolf's body covered in hastily made bandages to close the multitude of wounds the gigantic Marine had suffered.
"Think he'll wake up soon, Colonel?" Jim asked with heavy concern in his voice as he turned his gaze back into the hallway.
Schaefer gave a deep sigh and shook his head lightly "I'm not sure, Winters. He's got one hell of a tolerance for physical punishment, but I've never seen him this messed up. Heck, I'm not even sure if he managed to catch a concussion as he smacked his head against the wall."
"He'll be fine. He has to be fine... He'd better be fine." Vincent mumbled as he patted Dan's cheek roughly "Now wake up you big lug! This isn't the time to be sleeping on duty."
Schaefer glanced at Vincent from the corner of his eye. The black composite chest carapace the hyena had looted for himself seemed to somehow suit him, contrasting starkly against the tan on his fur and meshing well with the black spots and snout.
The hyena sure had come a long way from the bullied, abused rookie to reach this point. Schaefer made a mental note to have a private discussion with Raikov at some point after they'd gotten out of this festering sinkhole-of-a-system to get a feel for the hyena's mental state.
The sudden stirring of Dan caught Schaefer's attention, the Colonel placing a paw onto the sergeant's shoulder to prevent him from moving too suddenly "Easy now, sergeant. How are you feeling?"
Dan let out a grunt, followed by a groan as both Vincent and Jim threw themselves onto his thick neck, the wolf's eyes searching focus for a moment before fixing on Schaefer's face.
"Wha- What happened, Colonel? Where am I?" Dan asked, fatigue lacing each and every syllable of his speech as he slowly registered the fact Jim and Vincent were hugging him, a shadow of a reserved smile curling into the corner of the sergeant's muzzle "Nice to see you two too?"
A light frown appeared onto the sergeant's face as he added "And why are you two shirtless?"
Vincent slammed a fist into Dan's broad chest, making the wolf grunt as the hyena's fist impacted against a multitude of bruises and cuts, and then buried his face into Dan's chest, giving a strangled sob before saying "Don't you EVER get me worried like that again, man... We all thought you were dead!"
Dan opened his muzzle to reply, but Jim interrupted.
"Yeah, and then you came back and almost killed me before knocking yourself out..."
Dan frowned openly, his muzzle hanging slightly ajar as he tried to find the right words for the situation, but all he could come up with was a simple "What the..?"
"Winters, get back to guarding the doorway and Raikov let the sergeant breathe. I'm sure you'll get the chance to get reacquainted with each other later on." Schaefer's stern voice called out and the two Marines were quick to obey.
"Now, sergeant, I don't know how you did it, but your timely reincarnation sure saved our bacon. As for what has happened since your supposed 'death'..." and Schaefer explained, hurriedly, what had transpired, Jim and Vincent adding in the occasional confirming nod or remark whilst Dan listened intently.
At the sound and vibration of the artillery shelling, the Hounds stopped briefly. Vicious, triumphant chuckling and growling erupted from the haphazard, battered group. The city was getting shelled, giving the humans exactly what they deserved.
Lieutenant Fletcher cast a hasty glance behind the group, the Great Dane's ears perked up and forward, twitching lightly as he listened at the sounds of shouting and the thump of boots against the tile floor.
All he could see in the twilight of the red emergency lights, however, was the occasional drift of dust and plaster falling from the ceiling, the quiet rustle of air vents he had noted on their arrival having died down along with the generators.
Luckily, the sounds seemed to be going away instead of towards them.
Fletcher adjusted his grip on his pistol, the weight of the bulky solid-projectile weapon comforting in his paw. He liked a gun that both looked and sounded like it would cause some serious havoc, and the matt-black large-caliber slug tosser was just perfect for his taste.
The Hounds had successfully made their way to the right storage room after several trial-and-error attempts. Resistance had been light all around, as if the humans had abandoned the building in a hurry after the shield generators were shut down. Peculiarly, they had discovered the corpses of six dead humans in the storage room, all killed with deadly, precise, instantly fatal strikes of a bladed weapon; just like the guards outside the makeshift cell of the Marines.
Apparently Ghost had been in the storage, too...
Fletcher had been strict about not spending too much time in suiting up; weapons and spare ammo had been primary in importance, armor and personal trinkets secondary. Most of the Federate Marines had opted to take just the helmet, leaving the bulky-ish breastplates behind in favor of increased mobility.
"Move out, Marines. We need to get the fuck out of here before all hell rains down on us. Hustle up!" Fletcher barked and the Marines obeyed, the thunderous sound of boots thumping down on the diamond-shaped tiles filling the dimly-lit corridor.
Moments later, upon reaching the entrance hall, the Marines slowed down their pace, entering instead with caution and care, their weapons sweeping slowly from side to side in search of hidden ambushers, all ears perked and straining to their limits to hear something other than the dull, thumping booms of artillery shells pulverizing the colony.
No such attack came, the hall was deadly silent and empty aside from a bunch of corpses -flung aside like broken marionettes- spent casings and blood.
"Eltee, you'd better come see this!" Smokey grunted to Fletcher, the Great Dane walking briskly over to the corpse of a Templar Brethren lying on his back in a pool of blood. The man's head had been beaten to bloody pulp with, apparently, his own helmet, the instrument of the human's demise lying gore-soaked nearby.
"What the hell could've done something like this..?" Fletcher whispered flabbergasted. It'd take monstrous strength to rip the helmet off of a Templar's armor, but the jagged rips in the neck seal and locks indicated that had still, regardless, happened.
"I dunno, Eltee, and I sure as all hell don't want to find out either. I suggest we haul tail ASAP." John said in low tone, checking once more that the clip of his C-18 Pulse Assault Rifle was firmly in place.
As John rose up, David knelt down and dragged his claws along the gouges on the Templar's chest plate, a deep frown on the face of the Hounds' chief medic.
"I think..." David started slowly, the frown still present on his face as he looked up into Fletcher's eyes "I think these claw-marks match those of Longfang. His paw would certainly be big enough and he's the only one I know who could, conceivably, pull something like this off."
Fletcher snorted "Great... Another ghost is JUST what this unit needs. As if one wasn't enough already... Now let's move, double-time. We have to get away from here, preferably the way we came, but if things get rough I'll call The Saint's Rapier to pick us out of here."
Curling his paw into a fist Fletcher gave a quick, pumping motion and then sprinted out of the doorway, briefly noting the two broken bodies of human troopers lying in the doorway with their heads smashed, the trails of blood and other substances on the doors showing how the corpses had slid down.
The courtyard and the walls surrounding it were empty and devoid of life, the booming of the artillery far louder in their ears as the Federate Marines ran across in fire teams of three. Fletcher was flanked by John and David, followed by the trio of Rose, Jericho and Rey. Ahead of the Lieutenant ran three of captain Dhamon's men.
As Fletcher passed through the shattered remains of the generator building's gates, the sight that greeted him was both terrifying and pleasing at the same time. Like fiery meteorites, drawing behind them flaming tails, the artillery shells soared down from above, the blossoms of explosions ripping the colony apart little by little, the curtain of fire slowly creeping forward as the Federates systematically mowed down every inch of the city.
Fletcher knew they didn't have too much time... They had to hurry!
The command center shook faintly, the lights flickering erratically. Inquisitor Superior Antonius was standing in front of the massive armored suit that was his battle armor. Made of gleaming black metal, the armor stood a little over seven feet tall, its sleek form broken only by the cube-shaped generator in the back and the pair of three-barreled pulse laser gatlings slung under the arms.
Antonius threw a glance at the hustle and bustle around him. The main screen was still displaying a stream of grim data. The furred abominations were throwing a wall of fire into the city, razing it down to the foundations and below with ruthless efficiency.
The soft hiss of the doors made Antonius turn around, a faint smile curling into his face as he saw the gruff, somewhat messy Inquisitor Rodigus storm in.
Rodigus' always so neat black hair was a mess, hanging partially on his face like a curtain, the man clearly seething barely contained anger.
"You failed to protect the generator." Antonius said with a level tone without accusation, getting only a curt nod from Rodigus.
Antonius let out a short sigh, turning then back to look at the main display screen at the back of the command center "I knew it would happen eventually... I am, however, glad to see you made it out intact, for I have a task of utmost importance to you."
"Any word from Inquisitor Helsbane?" Rodigus interrupted coldly, but Antonius let it slide.
"She's dead, Rodigus..." The Inquisitor Superior said quietly, his expression turning a touch sadder as he spoke.
Rodigus felt like someone had slammed him to the stomach with a sledgehammer. He'd known from the moment she'd left to lead the troops at the front that she wouldn't be coming back, but still the news were enough to shock him to the marrow "H-How? When?"
Antonius tapped a few commands into the control pad nearby and the live feed of data on the main screen shrank into a smaller window and slid to the top left corner, replaced by an archived clip timed some five minutes ago. It showed a blue crown tagged "Helsbane" in the middle of a horde of hostile red dots, followed by a massive red circle of explosion spreading around her, every single dot within the radius of the circle winking out.
"Just before her vital signs flatlined she must've set the reactor of her battle suit into critical meltdown. The explosion -some half a click in radius- annihilated her and a large chunk of the enemy's battle line... Her sacrifice has bought us precious minutes as the enemy tries to gather their wits." Antonius said quietly, turning his head to look at Rodigus, who was clutching the railing of the command podium so hard his arms were trembling "She's earned martyrdom in the annals of mankind, Rodigus."
"Those bastards... They'll pay for this..." Rodigus snarled, his face twisted with fury.
"In due time they will, Rodigus, but for now you've got something to do, something of utmost importance." said Antonius, the older man's face set grim.
"What?" came Rodigus' venomous retort, but Antonius was unfazed.
"You need to board the Lance of Longinus and get out of here with as many able men and women as you can... The ship can hold about seventy, and I've already drafted a ready list for you. Also... Make sure you get Lady Davion out of here with you; her survival supersedes even your own."
Rodigus' mouth fell slightly open with surprise "I see... The list, does it contain any children or elderly, anyone that might slow me down?"
Antonius sighed deep and shook his head "No... Only young, healthy and capable people have been chosen. It pains me greatly to say this, but aside from those sixty eight lucky chosen plus you and Lady Davion, everyone in this colony is doomed."
"But my lord, you cannot stay here! Mankind needs you and your wisdom!" Rodigus protested, but Antonius silenced him with an angry slashing motion of his arm.
"Enough, Rodigus... I failed to protect this colony, the least I can do to make amends is to stay here and kill as many of them as I can."
"My lord..."
"Don't argue with me! Get Lady Davion and those indicated by the list and get out of this forsaken rock."
With a stunned, stricken look on his face Rodigus started to back away, slowly walking out of the command center. The last he ever saw of Inquisitor Superior Antonius was the senior Inquisitor climbing into his battle armor and starting the check-up on systems before the doors slid shut.
Jim's ear turned towards the sound of boots clomping softly at the tiles behind him. Vincent joined the Dalmatian by the door with an assault rifle clutched relaxedly in his paws.
Jim gave the Hyena a soft, lop-sided smile to which Vincent replied in kind.
During that moment of distraction, the sharp blade of a sword pressed up against Jim's throat. Vincent swung his head about -gun rising to firing position- but he froze mid-motion as he realized he was staring at the barrel of a compact, silenced sub-machine gun, the red-dot laser pointer of the weapon pointing directly between his eyes.
"You're careless... If I was an enemy you'd be dead..." The soft, whisper-like voice of Ghost said, the mouse's face colder than permafrost.
Slowly the Shade operative holstered his weapons and walked past the two stunned Marines, nodding curtly at Schaefer, who also was slowly lowering the pistol he'd looted.
"Ghost, glad to see you made it. I take it you're the one responsible for the destruction of the generators?" Schaefer said, getting nothing but a curt, affirming nod from the Shade.
"The others have already left the building, Colonel. You must hurry if you want to catch them... They took the only working communicator from the armory." Ghosts voice sent shivers down Vincent's spine. How could the mouse sound so unnervingly inhuman even without the warping, mechanical effect his helmet had on his voice?
Schaefer raised an eyebrow "We must hurry? What about you, Ghost?"
"I can handle myself. In case you care, your gear is on the bottom floor in storage room thirteen. The maps will guide you. Federation prevails, Colonel." Ghost nodded again and whipped around on his heels, slipping out of the room and vanishing into the shady hallway like his namesake.
With a loud grunt Dan heaved himself up and stretched slowly. Nothing seemed to be severely damaged, so the titanic brute walked over to the corpse of the nearest Templar Brethren and picked up the human's great sword, examining the blade keenly.
The hilt seemed to have a small button that could be locked in position near the cross-guard. Dan thumbed the button and the sword sprung to life, energy dancing on the sharp titanium blade of it.
Schaefer walked over to Dan as the wolf was in the process of swinging the sword about, testing it's balance, speed and weight, twirling it around in wide, swooping arcs, tight figure-eights and alternating between paws.
As he walked the Colonel fastened the straps of his portable data unit once again onto his left wrist, having picked the sturdy device from the floor where Rodigus had discarded it in the chaos caused by Dan's appearance.
"Are you ready to head out, Sergeant?" the Colonel's voice made Dan stop his practice, the wolf slowly turning around to face the considerably smaller canine.
"Yes, sir. Like Ghost said, we have to hurry if we want to catch up with Fletcher and the others."
Schaefer nodded and turned then to Vincent and Jim "Winters take point, Longfang next and Wildfire keeps the rear. Fast and quiet, Hounds. Let's move!"
The four Hounds left the room at a brisk pace. Vincent was the last to leave, his sharp eyes able to see the details even in the gloomy red twilight of the corridor. Here and there the roof had given in during the explosion of the reactor, bunches of cables and pipes hanging pathetically from rents in the ceiling like the limbs of a corpse.
The carapace armor protecting his chest felt a little tight and chafing and the stench of human made him feel revolted. Still, better to suffer the stench and chafing than run around completely unprotected, he reasoned.
To think Dan had sent the previous owner of the armor flying through thick wooden doors with such ease... Vincent had had no idea the Sergeant was quite so strong. Sure, he'd known Dan could pack a wallop, but the display he'd given earlier was borderlining insane!
Vincent shook the thoughts away. The important thing was Dan was alive and back to his normal self.
The four of them ran as fast as they could down to the first floor, Schaefer's eyes narrowed dangerously in suspicion as they didn't find a single living soul on their way. Had all the humans fled the building already?
Jim slid to a halt in front of a billboard depicting the blueprint of the generator building. A deep furrow settled onto the Dalmatian's brow as his eyes flicked from one part of the map to another, searching feverishly for the right room.
"There it is! Just down this hall, to the left from the next corridor and then straight forward." Jim exclaimed with glee, tapping the location of the storage with his finger.
"Well done, Winters, now lets keep moving!" Schaefer barked, this time taking the lead himself.
More empty corridors flew by, not a soul in sight. Doors had been left haphazardly open, revealing messy offices, break rooms and storage closets.
In the chaos several filing cabinets had been pushed over, their contents spilled all over the floor. Sheets of trivial information fluttered lazily as Schaefer's little squad sprinted past.
"This must be it!" Schaefer shouted a moment later, coming to a halt in front of an open metal door with a white thirteen painted onto it in angular, militaristic numbers.
The interior of the storage was a mess, as if someone or several someone had ransacked the place in a hurry. The six human corpses stuffed into one of the corners made Schaefer raise a brow in amusement. Either Ghost or Fletcher and the gang had been productive.
"Oh man! I can't believe I found them!" Vincent's voice made Schaefer turn around. A faint smile curled onto the Colonel's muzzle for a few heartbeats as he saw the fresh corporal fitting a pair of goggles onto his face. As far as Schaefer knew, those goggles had been a gift to Wildfire from the entire Pack and Raikov had apparently grown rather fond of them.
From inside the several smashed weapon cabinets -the doors of which either hung miserably from one hinge or lay on the floor- the four of them retrieved their weapons.
Dan stowed the sword he'd confiscated and fished out a heavy-looking automatic weapon from a metal trunk. The gun was massive with a total length of over five feet, fed by large drum-clips: several of which Dan stuffed into a bag he found lying around.
Quite obviously it was meant to be operated by at least two people from a stationary, braced position; one to haul the weapon and shoot, whilst the other one lugged the ammo. Dan handled the weapon with ease, enjoying the weight of it in his paws. The gun looked every bit capable of smashing through light-medium vehicle armor without too much problem. He didn't even dare to contemplate what it'd do to a person...
Schaefer didn't think much of Dan hauling the massive gun with him. He knew Dan would be easily able to keep up even with the extra weight. Raikov had also found his flamer, and was in the process of strapping the tank onto his back.
"I'm afraid you can't take that with you, Wildfire. The thing weighs far too much and we need to hurry." Schaefer said in stern tone and was more than a little surprised as the hyena didn't move a muscle to comply; quite the contrary.
Schaefer frowned and walked over to Vincent, making sure the hyena noticed him before speaking up again "Didn't you hear me, corporal? I told you to leave the darned thing."
Vincent spent a moment thinking, looking then the Colonel right in the eye and regretting it almost instantly as the German Shepherd's glare bored right through him. He gulped once and then mustered enough courage to speak.
"With all due respect, Sir, I ain't leaving this thing here. It saved everyone's life back at the Skai operation when we had to deal with the recidivist scum." Vincent did his best to keep his voice from faltering, but his words still seemed to slur a little, the hyena quailing under the sheer presence of the Colonel.
Schaefer's eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment and Vincent could feel his hear hammering in his chest, threatening to burst through his ribs. Then, suddenly, Schaefer let out a chuckle and whipped about, fishing out his sword and plasma pistol from a shelf.
"I'm surprised, Raikov. You've got balls. Not many in the Pack dare to stand up against my orders. You've got a point, that thing DID save our collective tushies back then, so I'll let you keep it." Schaefer whipped about and pointed a stern finger at Vincent "But make sure you'll keep up, corporal. We're on a really tight schedule as it is."
"Sir, yes, sir!" Vincent bellowed, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as soon as Schaefer turned around once more. He couldn't help but wonder how the Colonel could possibly have such strength of personality and an almost tangible air of authority about himself. Whatever it was, it made him -in Vincent's opinion- a perfect leader.
The loud, satisfying sound of a shotgun racking caught Vincent's attention and he turned to look at his left. He was greeted by the sight of a smiling Dalmatian with a combat shotgun in his paws, two bandoliers of spare shells crossing over his chest.
Jim walked over to Vincent and pecked a quick kiss onto the Hyena's cheek followed by a playful wink. "For good luck." He explained.
"Hey you two little lovebirds, no time for snogging right now. We gotta haul tail!" Schaefer ordered. The four of them -now armed to teeth- filed out of the storage room and soon after out of the generator complex, darting along the rubble-strewn streets.
Outside, the Federates led by Fletcher were making good progress, putting block after block of distance between themselves and the generator building.
It wasn't before the edge of the colony was in their sights that they ran into enemies. From above, in the lower windows of the tall buildings, the angry bark of assault rifles and assorted other gunfire caught the Marines by surprise.
Four of the Federates fell under the storm of bullets before Fletcher barked everyone to take cover.
Fletcher rolled behind a wrecked truck, growling angrily as a line of gunfire followed him, pinging off the side of the truck. The Great Dane was glad the humans built their vehicles sturdy.
"It's a fucking killzone in here, eltee..." John grunted deadpan, a cig burning in the corner of the wolf's muzzle.
Fletcher wrinkled his nose at the cloying, thick stench of the narcotic cig John was smoking. The narc-cigs -or "Grins" as they were called by the men- contained a mild dose of drugs that calmed the nerves of the user with only insignificant diminishing in combat efficiency; perfect for those dug in during an artillery shelling or otherwise under strenuous conditions.
John had nothing else left, so he'd broken open the mandatory packet of Grins given to every soldier before a mission, looking very much like his calm and collected self once more instead of the twitchy near-wreck he'd been during their momentary confinement.
Fletcher snorted and took a potshot over the hood of the truck before withdrawing back in "I know. We have to get the hell out of here and fast."
At that moment the dingo-sniper Jerry rolled behind the truck, the canine badly out of breath with a nasty cut on his cheek, blood staining his fur red.
"The road to the edge of the crater is blocked, Eltee. They've piled up junk and burning wrecks to block the roads... There's no going over them." Jerry gasped, crouching a little more as a bullet went whizzing by.
"Great, what next? Famine and pestilence? Locust swarms and rainclouds?" Fletcher mumbled under his breath, chancing a glance over the side of the truck to assess the situation and withdrawing hastily as more fire pinged off the truck's side.
The com-link in Fletcher's ear crackled and the voice of one of Dhamon's men came through, requesting orders, to which Fletcher replied with a curt "Return fire and lay low, wait for further instructions."
The situation could've been better. Rocket launchers and mortars weren't exactly part of their commando gear, so blowing the building apart wasn't much of an option. Heck, even their designated demolitionist Rose was all out of bangs that could bring the building down.
"One more little miracle wouldn't hurt. I can't call Rowalski yet, we need to get to somewhere more open for him to land the Rapier." The Lieutenant thought to himself, his jaw set firm and grim, a deep furrow of concentration on his brow as he racked his brain for a solution.
Out loud Fletcher said "Since route A is blocked off, what alternatives do we have?"
John dragged a lungful of smoke slowly, picking the Grin then between a middle finger and thumb. He stared at the glowing ember, looking like he was thinking something before he said at length "If I recall correctly, there are some open plazas and parks to the North. Not the most ideal of spots, I know, but at least we can be picked up from there more easily. Problem is--" he waved towards the building occupied by the enemy with his cigarette "--we need to go past that to get there."
"Fuckin'A. This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" Jerry swore, looking thoroughly unhappy.
Fletcher agreed silently. The bombing was drawing closer and closer with every passing moment. They'd be forced to move soon or be blown away... and NOT in a good way! Assaulting the building and performing a floor-by-floor sweep was also out of the question since it'd take far too much time.
Starting to feel a little desperate, Fletcher took a brief glance up to the roiling skies and muttered under his breath "What would Schaefer do?"
A sudden idea occurred to him and he tapped the earpiece of his com-link "Chibi, haul your vulpine arse over to my position! I need that long range comm-device."
The fox gave a brief affirmation after which Fletcher tapped open a link to the entire unit, barking a single order "Covering fire, now!"
As one the beleaguered Federate Marines aimed their guns at the building and let loose on full auto, forcing their assailants to hunker down just long enough for the lithe, nimble fox to dart from his position to Fletcher, skidding to a halt after sliding the last three meters.
Jake was out of breath, but managed a sweet smile none the less as he unstrapped the bulky comm-device from his back. The device itself was an olive-green flat box not much unlike a briefcase, it's surface covered in small dents and scrapes from years of extended use on various battlefields.
Fletcher nodded in approval to Jake as he undid the clasps of the case, revealing a multitude of dials, buttons and knobs as well as a keyboard inside, most of it still either olive-green or matt-black. The Great Dane's fingers danced on the device, flicking switches and pressing buttons until, with a grim expression, he hit the "SEND" button.
He turned to look at John, Jake and Jerry, one corner of his muzzle curling into a faint smile as he said "I hope the message gets through, otherwise we're screwed in the worst possible way."
Fletcher leaned his head against the side of the truck and looked up at the orange-red sky above. He had sent an emergency call for assistance on all naval channels using Schaefer's authority codes, hoping for someone -anyone- to catch the message.
Antonius sighed deep, the expression going unnoticed by those around him due to the bulk of the massive battle armor he wore on him, the jet-black hull a stark contrast against the chrome and gold of his weapon systems. He ran one final check on his systems, confirming all of them were online and operational, satisfied as he saw the green confirmation lights sliding across the screen inside his suit.
The battle suit felt constrictive and limiting compared to the relative mobility of his power armor, but right now -when heavy firepower was needed- he couldn't afford it.
Grim-faced and massive, Antonius' suit had been crafted to intimidate and armed to take down almost anything. A pair of gatling lasers on the underarms, two shoulder-mounted plasma weapons and a hidden flame thrower on the left wrist gave Antonius all the firepower he could ever hope for... Yet it still wouldn't be enough.
All the simulations he had ran had been conclusive: in optimal conditions he could defend a chokepoint alone for roughly eighteen hours, twelve on average and eight at worst. The crackling of his suit's speaker snapped the Inquisitor Superior out of his thoughts. At the stroke of a key he opened the helmet of his suit, which slid open with a deep, satisfying hydraulic hiss.
"Yes, what is it Captain?" Antonius said softly.
Captain Bavor, his handsome face set grim, clasped his hands behind his back as he gave the report "The moles are in place as you ordered, Sir, and with your permission I would like to detonate them now."
"I see the abominations have started to move into the canyon... Let their scout and reconnaissance units through and, once they start moving their troops in bulk, detonate both the moles and the explosives in the canyon walls. That'll force them to use air drops which we can reduce to cinders with our remaining AA-batteries." Antonius' expression didn't so much as twitch as he spoke, even though he was starting to feel desperate.
He knew full well they had nowhere near enough anti-air capabilities left to fend off a full-scale assault, but as an Inquisitor he was responsible for maintaining the morale no matter what happened.
Bavor nodded and turned around, starting to relay Antonius' orders to the people still remaining in the command center.
Several nerve-wracking minutes later Bavor turned to say what Antonius could clearly see on the tactical display "The enemy forces are moving en mass to the canyon. Looks like they are a bit too confident that all resistance inside the crater has been obliterated by the curtain of fire they are laying down."
"They will pay for such foolishness. Permission granted, Captain, send those abominations to Hell and show them that Man has not yet given up!" Antonius shouted, clenching the suit's hand into a tight fist for further emphasis, eliciting a cheer from the men.
Moments later the dome-like room shook as the mole charges went off directly underneath the furries' artillery installations and groundside command center, obliterating everything in a storm of fire, fury and razor-sharp shards of rock. The Federate Marines in the canyon leading to the human colony were also in for a surprise as the walls around them blew up, crushing hundreds of screaming soldiers as well as dozens of armored vehicles, rendering the passage impassable.
The curtain of fire laid down by the artillery came to an abrupt stop, leaving slightly less than half of the colony intact. The recon elements of the Galactic Federation found themselves trapped inside the city with no way to escape, forced to dig in and sell their lives as dearly as they could as human soldiers rushed out of underground hiding places and swarmed over them.
Meanwhile, Fletcher and his men turned as one to look in the direction of the canyon, their expressions grim as the curtain of fire ended, replaced by the sight of a gigantic dust cloud where, they knew, the Federates had made planetfall and dug up their positions.
A quick look at the scrambled, confused messages shooting back and forth between the remaining Federate ground elements and the fleet in low orbit confirmed their fears: the chain of command had effectively been shot to hell, they no longer had any operational artillery planetside and the canyon had been sealed shut.
"Sonuvabitch..." John snarled under his breath, flicking the butt of his spent Grin to the ground. "They'll soon enough be all over us now that there's no more threat from the other groundside forces."
Fletcher's brow furrowed in a frown as he contemplated his options, casting a slow glance down the road on their left. "If we can't go past this building here... Now that we've got time, we could try and take the long route around."
"We'll probably run into human troops if we take the scenic route, and in all honesty we don't have the numbers or the firepower to shoot our way through." John said, the wolf's ears perked high as he looked in the same direction as Fletcher did.
"Well if you've got a better idea, Smokey, I'm all ears." Fletcher retorted venomously, not even bothering to look at the other canine.
John grunted quietly and looked away. In all honesty he had no idea what they could do short of trying to rush past the building and praying to Machala that some of them would survive.
Schaefer's upraised fist caused the others to stop. Not far ahead of them, from within a large hole blown by a stray shell, they could hear humans talking and the sound of rubble being moved around.
Cautiously the four of them crawled over to the edge of the crater and took a careful peek over the edge. The shell had blown open the roof of some sort of an underground passage, the metal walls of which were now blackened with soot.
A bunch of human soldiers were working on removing rubble to clear a way through a cave in caused by the explosion with a large bunch of civilians standing around nearby.
Schaefer turned to look at Vincent, causing a chill shiver to run down the Hyena's spine. The Colonel's eyes were full of cold, murderous fury as he silently mouthed the words "burn them all".
Vincent nodded and quietly clicked on the pilot flame on the Gehenna's Tongue. He took a deep breath, lowered the goggles onto his face and rose onto one knee, snarling in delight as he pointed the nozzle of the flamethrower down and squeezed the trigger to bottom.
The sight was both horrifying and glorious at the same time. The humans were taken completely by surprise, unable to react fast enough to bring their guns to bear. Dozens of them died in the space of few seconds as the roiling inferno washed down the tunnel, incinerating men, women, children and elderly without distinction.
Through all this Vincent was grinning with satisfaction, mesmerized by the dance and crackle of the flames, unable to hear the horrifying screams echoing through the flame-filled tunnel.
It was only for a few seconds that he held the trigger down, yet in such enclosed spaces it was more than enough. In just moments all motion -aside from the writhing flames- had stopped and the screams silenced, leaving Vincent panting with the afterglow of a heavy adrenaline rush.
A paw landing onto his shoulder snapped Raikov out of his reverie. It was the Colonel, his face stoic as ever as he nodded in approval "Well done, Wildfire. You've truly earned that nickname. Now let's go, time's a-wasting."
Vincent could only nod stupidly, starting to follow behind Schaefer. Dan was the point man and Jim shuffled in behind Vincent, the Dalmatian casting one final glance at the corpse-strewn, burning tunnel with a look of concern on his face.
Jim could hardly believe Vincent was able to be so cold hearted and murderous. It was like the Hyena had been a completely different person back there, grinning like a madman as he washed the tunnel with fire. Sure, the tunnel had been filled with the reviled human-enemy but some of them had been mere civilians! Apparently the Federation had stooped just as low as the humans once had...
Sighing deep Jim turned his attention back to the surrounding buildings, his eyes darting from window to window in search of threats, but at the same time he swore he'd have a little chat with Vincent once they got out of this forsaken hellhole.
The attention of all four was caught by a searingly bright white-blue lance of light crashing down from the heavens above, followed seconds later by the loud rumble of an explosion. They were all forced to cover their eyes and turn away from the beam of energy.
As suddenly as it had appeared, the lance of energy dimmed out and vanished, leaving behind only the after image on everyone's vision.
"That was a shipboard weapon." Schaefer growled as he shook his head violently in an attempt to clear up his vision "But why only one shot? And wasn't that in the direction Fletcher and the rest were heading at?"
Dan nodded, the after image of the laser beam vanishing rapidly from his eyes "Yes, Sir. I suggest we head out ASAP and find out what's going on."
"I agree, Sergeant. Move out, single file, fast and silent as always." Schaefer said in response, motioning them all to move their feet.
They didn't get too far, though, before running into a group of fifteen human troopers coming around the corner of a building and heading in the same direction as they were.
Both groups stared at each other in tense silence for two heartbeats. Schaefer sprung into action after just one, diving behind a fallen chunk of masonry whilst shouting "Take cover!"
Jim, Vincent and Dan reacted accordingly, lunging head-first behind cover just as the first bullets pinged off the ground and whizzed through the air all too close for comfort.
Vincent landed uncomfortably onto his left arm a couple of feet short of the nearest pile of rubble, unable to roll properly due to the bulk of the fuel tank strapped to his back. A massive paw caught him by the front of his jacket and yanked him bodily into cover, the face of Dan -a savage grin on the Sergeant's face- looming above him.
"Cover your ears, Wildfire, things are about to get loud." Dan said, hefting then the massive gun over the edge of the rubble pile and pulling the trigger.
The roar of the gun was deafening and Vincent was forced to plant his paws onto his ears with his muzzle open to prevent his eardrums from popping.
Dan swept the gun in a slow arc, stitching a steady line of destruction across the street where the human's were hiding. One human was struck into the chest, blowing up a ragged hole the size of a basketball in a spray of gore and chips of bone. Another one's head was simply disintegrated by a direct hit, his decapitated corpse staggering around for a couple of steps before dropping down like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
The gun let out a massive click as the drum magazine ran dry and Dan was forced to duck back into cover to reload, an angry volley of counter-fire ripping through the spot his head had occupied just a moment ago.
Meanwhile, Schaefer sent a couple of burning bolts of plasma streaking over the edge of his hiding place. The shots went wide and Schaefer had to take cover again as his gun overheated and he was forced to keep it at an arm's length as it steamed and shook in his paw. For a strenuous few seconds Schaefer thought the gun was about to explode, but luckily it settled down.
"We can't afford to sit on our arses here, Colonel!" Jim shouted, blasting down a human who'd tried to sneak up on them despite all the gunfire, the point-blank shotgun blast sending the man sprawling on the ground with an agonized shriek.
"I'm well aware of that, Winters..." Schaefer growled back, racking his brain for options. The humans were dug-in in their way with more, apparently, coming to reinforce them. They would be overwhelmed soon enough unless...
"Longfang! Provide covering fire! Wildfire, Winters we'll be disengaging and heading back to the tunnel entrance we found. Hustle up!" The Colonel's orders were clear and the three others acknowledged with Dan opening fire once more with his heavy gun, forcing the humans to either duck for cover or have their noggin knocked off of their shoulders.
With Jim in the lead the others burst into a run, dashing about half of the distance before taking cover behind some more rubble and signaling for Dan to haul ass.
The massive wolf took one look at the bulky gun and, with some reluctance, ditched it and the spare ammo. He needed to run as fast as he could now, and the bulk of the gun would've just been in the way.
Bullets whined and zipped past Dan as he sprinted with his head down. He tried to keep as much cover between himself and the enemy as he could, but it was practically pointless with his bulk.
Dan felt a bullet scraping his thigh and another one thudding onto his shoulder, but the sharp, hot pain just drove him onwards. He saw Vincent and Jim waving him onwards ahead with Schaefer taking potshots with his plasma pistol to cover his retreat.
Dan easily jumped over the pile of junk behind which the others were and, along with them, sprinted down the road, eventually reaching the still-smoking hole in the ground. Without hesitation and with the enemy still hot on their heels they leapt down and ran into the tunnels, vanishing to the darkness.
The burst of energy hit the backside of the building housing the soldiers who kept the Hounds pinned down, igniting and incinerating everything within the building whilst minimizing the collateral damage on the frontside where the Hounds were.
Still, despite the surgical precision of the laser blast, the Hounds wee forced to hit the ground and cover themselves as best they could from the dry, hot blast of air and flying debris that followed.
For a moment there was only the sound of fire burning here and there, but that was broken by a growing, raucous laughter from Fletcher. The Lieutenant rolled onto his back and just laughed, causing some of the men close by to raise their heads to see if the Eltee had really finally snapped.
"They got the message! I don't know who it was, but we were heard, lads!" Fletcher shouted on the top of his lungs between fits of laughter. He had gambled pretty much everything on that one single message and it had paid off!
Gathering his posture a little bit, Fletcher tapped his comms-device and called in a status report. Everyone seemed to be fine except...
"It's the Preacher, Sir... I think he's injured pretty bad!" The voice of sergeant Frost wiped the smirk away from Fletcher's face instantly.
"What happened? Report, dammit!" Fletcher snarled into his headset.
For a moment there was silence and then the Doc's voice came out of the ear-bead "It would appear he looked at the energy blast a bit too long, sir. His eyes are all burnt-up. He's... He's blind, Eltee. Probably permanently, though I can't say for sure without a proper exam."
Fletcher swore under his breath before replying "Do what you can for him, Doc, we're taking him with us. As for the rest of you, get up and haul tail. We're hitting that plaza and then hunker down and wait for evac."
Already some scattered, sporadic fire was coming from the direction the Hounds had arrived from, the poorly aimed shots pinging off of the ground and walls, tossing up small rivulets of dust.
Sam, John and Rey remained as the rearguard, covering the others' retreat with their C-18 PARs.
John, a lit cig dangling in the corner of his muzzle, sighted through the scope of his rifle and squeezed the trigger every couple of seconds. His gun -whom he lovingly called "Marauder"- barked in the C-18's typical "K-DISHK" fashion every time the trigger was pulled, a black-clad human trooper falling with almost every shot he took.
Next to him, from their cover behind a wrecked flatbed, Sam fired away on semi-auto burst, squeezing off triple shots in rapid succession. Unlike John, he wasn't scoring nearly as many clean kills -or even hits for that matter- but the storm of fire he was laying down kept most of the enemy at bay.
They switched positions, falling back whilst Rey covered them up with his gun, dropping a human trooper who had gotten brave with a well-placed headshot.
Little by little the three of them gave ground to their enemy, switching positions in turns to always keep the enemy busy; a textbook technique and highly effective too.
Meanwhile the rest of the unit had reached the market plaza, taking cover on top of a pyramid-like rise in the middle of it with a wide, flat top surrounded by a thick waist-high stone wall. Four stairways led up to the top, so it was as good a place as any to make a stand, especially since their pickup could land right into the middle of it quite easily.
As Fletcher saw Sam, John and Rey sprinting down the road and onto the large market plaza, he immediately sent a message for an evac, checking one last time that they'd be able to hold off long enough for the message to be received and acted upon accordingly.
Right after the rearguard had made it's way on top of the rise, one of Dhamon's men -a black Newfoundland dog with a ragged scar across the snout- shouted "Contact!"
Fletcher saw the black-clad human troopers darting onto the plaza, taking what cover they could behind raised concrete-lined flowerbeds and statues. In moments a fierce shootout started up with both sides exchanging volleys of fire.
The lack of heavy firepower on both sides meant it would be a prolonged slaughter where both sides would slowly try to grind the other to the ground. All the Hounds could hope for now was for the evac to arrive in time to get them out of there. They dared not think the consequences should the humans manage to drive heavy armor onto the plaza...
The faint blue glow of emergency lights illuminated the winding path ahead as Schaefer's "posse" trudged onwards in the gloomy, echoing metal tunnel. Dirt and dust and discarded personal belongings littered the floor; a suitcase here, an empty soda can there.
The humans had tried to enter the tunnels after them, but a couple of quick bursts from the Gehenna's Tongue had driven them back, instead opting to bomb the entrance shut and trapping the four furs underground.
Now, however, Vincent was out of fuel and forced to discard the empty tank, though he refused to let go of the actual gun. He'd just have to get a new tank once they got out of the planet... IF they got out of there.
Vincent was holding the rear, checking over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure they weren't followed. Dan was in the lead with Schaefer right behind him, tapping the keys on his wrist-mounted computer.
"I thought you wiped the memory of that thing clear, Colonel?" Jim asked all of a sudden, breaking the silence that had rested upon them for the better part of fifteen minutes.
"I did, Winters, but do you really think a sly old dog like me would be walking around without a backup? I always carry a spare memory chip on me" Schaefer replied without lifting his gaze from the screen, the green glow of which cast an eerie light onto the German Shepherd's face.
Winters hesitated for a moment, gauging his words before responding "Well... No, Sir, I don't think you'd go without a backup. I can't help but wonder where you hid that chip since they did search us all for weapons and all that."
Schaefer turned to look at the Dalmatian over his shoulder with a conniving, almost smug little grin on his muzzle "Why, I hid it in the one place nobody ever figures out to look from. Let's leave it at that."
An expression of dawning realization spread onto Jim's face a moment later as he replied "Oh... Oh! I see. Very clever of you, Sir."
The Colonel waved dismissively with his paw as he turned back to his data unit "No need to kiss my arse, Winters, although I have to admit it's a bit of a pain to hide the spare chip... Can't afford to let my mind wander."
Jim chuckled softly and fell then in stride with Vincent.
"How you holding up, Vinnie?" Jim asked in his usual peppy, light hearted tone.
"I'm okay, I guess. Just a bit rattled by all that's been happening today." Vincent mumbled back, casting another glance over his shoulder before looking at Jim.
Vincent couldn't help but smile faintly. Jim was always so full of energy no matter what happened. How had someone so seemingly innocent and carefree ended up in the army in the first place, not to mention managed to keep his positive attitude?
"Say..." Vincent began slowly after remembering what he'd been meaning to ask for a long time now "Why does the Colonel keep referring to you by your last name, whilst using the nicknames for just about everyone else?"
Jim was thankful of the twilight as it hid his faint blush "He uhh... He doesn't use it because he thinks it's demeaning and not fit for me..."
"Really now? Huh... I guess it is a bit derogatory, objectifying you like that." Vincent said with a raised brow.
The lithe Dalmatian snickered quietly and patted Vincent onto the shoulder "Well aren't you being a real Prince Charming now? In all honesty I don't really mind the nickname. I'm not ashamed to admit that I am a boytoy for the Hounds." Jim held a small pause, looking down the corridor with a thoughtful, amused little smile on his face before continuing "Now I sound like a total slut, don't I?"
Vincent stuck his tongue jestingly out at Jim "A bit, yeah."
To this Jim responded by punching Vincent lightly on the shoulder, saying "Meanie!"
Schaefer finally interjected with a growled "Pipe it down, puppies... You're making so much noise it'll wake up the dead!"
Jim and Vincent saw no reason to disobey and Vincent even felt a shiver run down his spine. He found it astonishing how totally in control of his unit the Colonel was. Not just because of his rank and despite being about half-a-head shorter than everyone else, but because he had the strength of will and the character of an Alpha.
Schaefer stopped all of a sudden and nodded to the data unit in approval. The device had finished installing the program and it was fully operational again.
The Colonel went through the vitals of all members in the unit, noticing everyone barring the four of them underground had their heart rate above the norm.
"The others are fighting. No further casualties yet..." Schaefer mused more to himself than to the others, switching then the screen onto a map-mode.
For a moment the screen flashed "loading, stand by" before revealing a grainy map of the surrounding tunnels, disturbed by fits of occasional static. Apparently the geo positional sensors on the orbiting fleet were up and running and able to pierce through this much solid ground.
Schaefer studied the map keenly with his eyes narrowed, plotting a course with a finger until he was finally satisfied. One more tap of a button and they had a ready route to the market plaza; the most likely place for an evac since it was the only open enough an area near the site of the energy beam they'd witnessed earlier.
Schaefer took point and they started to sprint, following the Colonel through the winding maze of poorly-lit metal corridors, their footsteps echoing hollowly in the seemingly abandoned tunnel.
Ten minutes and twice as many junctions passed by them in silence until they reached a slightly larger room with three other exits from it.
Schaefer skidded to a halt with his fangs bared and a low growl rumbling from his throat. They were not alone, another group having arrived at the same time as they did, only these were humans!
There were about seventy of them, mostly unarmed civilians, but there was one Schaefer, Jim and Vincent recognized immediately: Rodigus!
The human Inquisitor swept a lock of black hair off of his face and smiled satisfiedly.
"So we meet again, Colonel. Truly, a pleasure to see you." The human's voice told Schaefer he was anything but pleased to see them alive.
"The feeling is anything but mutual, scumbag. You tried to make me betray the Federation and threatened my Pack... I'll have your head for that." Schaefer growled, drawing out his vibro sword and plasma pistol as he spoke.
Rodigus snorted and gestured towards the doorway to Schaefer's right "All of you, go on ahead. I'll deal with these vermin myself."
All but one of the humans -aside from Rodigus- burst into a run and vanished soon after. The four furs didn't even care about the civilians at that point. All they wanted to do was tear that fiend Rodigus apart.
The other human, a woman of indeterminable age, stood in the doorway through which they'd entered the room, her frame shrouded in a heavy all-concealing hooded blue cloak with fine, swirly gold embroidery on it.
Rodigus risked a quick glance over his shoulder before fixing his attention back at the four furs, his hand hovering just above the handle of his own sword.
"M'lady, it's dangerous here. Please, go with the others, I'll catch up soon enough I promise." Rodigus said, sounding genuinely concerned; something Schaefer had thought would be impossible.
The woman shook her head softly as she replied "No, Inquisitor. I'm far safer with you and you may need me in case they overpower you."
"Just stay back then, please, m'lady." Rodigus replied and unsheathed his sword slowly, holding it in front of his face in a fencing salutation, the blade activating with a press of a button, sheathing it in a glowing, crackling field of blue-white energy.
Jim racked his shotgun, Dan pulled out the massive two-handed sword and Vincent thumbed off the safety on his large-caliber pistol, but Schaefer turned to look at them over his shoulder, the cold, piercing eyes of the Colonel filled with barely contained fury, his voice naught but a growl as he told them "This one is mine..."
The three all took a half step backwards, struck by the fury seething from the German Shepherd. None of them, not even Dan, had ever seen the Colonel so angry.
Schaefer let out a roar and charged, firing his gun as he ran.
Rodigus, too, burst into a run, his arm moving like quicksilver as he swatted the roiling ball of plasma away, his sword not melting only due to the protective field around it.
The two of them collided in the center of the room, sparks flying as their blades connected.
Rodigus swatted aside Schaefer's hand as the Colonel tried to fire his pistol point-blank into the Inquisitor's face, the human then spinning around and trying to slice Schaefer's pistol hand off.
Schaefer reacted just fast enough to avoid losing his paw, though the energized blade did scrape a nasty wound onto the back of the paw, forcing Schaefer to drop the pistol. In response the Colonel brought his sword down in an arc over the shoulder, attempting to split the human in two, but Rodigus' arm moved with incredible speed to parry the blow.
Stuck in a deadlock, they both tried to overpower each other, Schaefer snarling and growling whilst Rodigus just grinned. A moment later Rodigus tried to kick Schaefer to the shin, forcing the colonel to jump back and thus break the deadlock.
The Inquisitor gave Schaefer no time to recover. He pressed on, his sword arm moving like a greased lightning as he rained blow after blow onto the Schaefer who only barely managed to dodge or parry them, forced to back away from the onslaught of slices and thrusts.
"How is he so damn fast?!" Schaefer found himself thinking as he weaved back and to the side to avoid a thrust at his face, forced to bring his sword up immediately afterwards to parry a decapitating slice.
"Colonel! We'll help you!" Schaefer heard Vincent shouting.
"Hold your fucking ground, Wildfire! I'll kill this son of a bitch or die trying!" The colonel shot back at the Hyena.
Rodigus laughed -a cruel, mocking laughter- as he spun around and thrust a kick into Schaefer's midriff, knocking the dog off his feet and winding him badly.
Rodigus leapt and turned his blade upside down, trying to impale Schaefer, but the German Shepherd managed to roll out of the way and back onto his feet, his breathing coming out in heavy, wheezing gasps.
Schaefer could feel himself tiring quickly, his sword arm starting to slowly feel like it was being filled with lead, whilst Rodigus looked fresh and energetic despite swinging his sword around like a madman.
The human charged again, striking in a quartet of slices that hammered Schaefer's defenses wide open, followed by a spinning kick to the chest that sent the Colonel crashing onto the ground, gasping for air.
Rodigus laughed once more, spinning his sword in a lazy figure eight as he slowly approached Schaefer, keeping one eye on the other three.
"This ends now you mangy sack of festering filth..." Rodigus whispered, bringing his sword down in a devastating arc.
Schaefer -his vision swimming and his entire body feeling like it was encased in lead- forced his arm to rise one more time to block the lethal strike, sending more sparks flying.
"Defiant to the end, hmm?" Rodigus mused as the sliced Schaefer's sword apart from just below the guard where the vibration of the blade no longer protected it, the blade spinning through the air before landing with a loud, ringing clatter onto the floor several feet away.
"Ahh... To hell with his stupid, stubborn orders!" Jim shouted and shouldered his shotgun "Eat lead asshole!"
Rodigus turned to look at the three other furs, his body tensing in preparation to leap to the side.
At that precise moment, just before Dan lunged at Rodigus and Jim and Vincent prepared to fill the human with lead, there was a loud bang like a thunderclap and a bright white light and all three of them were knocked off their feet, collapsing on the ground and twitching as small arcs of lightning danced over their bodies.
The air reeked of ozone and Schaefer turned his head wearily to look at the other human. She no longer had the cloak on, the garment lying discarded on the floor. Schaefer could now see her head was shaven with rows of tubes and plugs attached to her cranium, more wiring and tubing running on her arms and chest.
She stood there with her arms thrust forward, smoking, metal-lined lenses implanted into her palms. She was gasping for breath as if she'd just ran the marathon, her shaking legs giving way as she fell onto one knee and leaned against the doorway.
Rodigus threw a spiteful glance at Schaefer -who was still unable to move- and then ran to the woman, helping her stand up.
"M'lady, that wasn't necessary. Using the Aegis exhausts you and you know it!" Rodigus' tone was surprisingly soft; again quite uncharacteristic of the otherwise so snide and spiteful man.
The woman waved her hand dismissively "I'm alright, Rodigus... They would've killed you had I not intervened. Now finish the job and let us be on our way."
"With pleasure..." Rodigus replied, spinning his sword about once again as he started to approach Schaefer.
Just as he was about to plunge the sword into Schaefer's chest, a loud gunshot filled the room and Rodigus was thrown to the ground, his sword arm flying off in a shower of sparks, severed at the elbow.
Sprawled on the floor, Rodigus looked at the stump of his mechanical arm in dismay, his gaze wandering then to the Dalmatian kneeling on the ground with a smoking shotgun clutched in his paws.
The dog looked like he was about to collapse, though the growling and bared teeth told Rodigus he'd better make good his escape now before the Dalmatian managed to gather enough strength for another shot.
Hurriedly Rodigus stood up and ran to the other human, supporting her and taking then a hurried leave from the room.
"You got lucky this time, mutts!" The Inquisitor shouted from the doorway before ducking in and vanishing from sight.
Jim stared wearily at his trembling paws, letting the shotgun fall to the floor before slumping against the wall. His aim had been off a little bit as he'd tried to blow Rodigus' head off and apparently he'd accidentally chambered in slugshots instead of buckshots.
The biggest question on the Dalmatian's mind was, however, what kind of a weapon the woman had used against them? From what he understood, she'd employed some kind of lightning against them; strong enough to knock down even Dan, though that could've been because the massive wolf was already in such a battered condition.
With a groan Schaefer wrenched himself up and into a sitting position, also leaning against the closest wall for support.
"That... Was a nice shot, Winters." Schaefer managed to say between heavy gasps.
"What do you mean, Sir? I missed." Jim replied, looking at the Colonel with a faint, lopsided little smile.
Schaefer chuckled briefly, forced to stop because his bruised ribs ached, his eyes falling onto the severed mechanical arm of Rodigus still clutching the sword. Schaefer reached out for it and pried the arm off, powering the sword down in the process.
"So his arm was mechanical? No wonder he was able to move it so fast..." Schaefer mused idly, turning then to look at the groaning forms of Vincent and Dan gathering themselves off the floor "Good morning sunshines. Get your rears in gear, we're leaving as soon as everyone's able to walk."
Vincent felt like he'd been struck by a freight train as he slowly rose onto all fours, shaking his head slowly from side to side and blinking to clear out the white flash burned onto his eyes.
"What the hell was that witch using?" The Hyena asked slowly as he rose shakily onto his feet.
Schaefer was quiet for a moment before responding "I believe it to be some sort of a mechanical device implanted into the body that generates electricity. I don't know how, I don't know why, but I'm sure both Hi-Com and SpecOps are quite interested in this little tidbit."
The Colonel rose slowly onto his feet, nursing his bruised ribs with one hand whilst clutching Rodigus' sword -now his sword- in the other.
"Let's go... I'm sure the others are waiting." Schaefer said, limping then towards the doorway opposite of the one used by Rodigus and the other humans. Somehow Schaefer had the bad feeling that this wouldn't be the last time they saw the Inquisitor...
On orbit around the human colony, on the bridge of GFS Triumphant, captain Derringer stood with his paws clasped casually behind his back, looking at the tactical display suspended at the front of the bridge.
"Sir, High Admiral Taaran is hailing us once again. Do we ignore it once again or..?" one of the ensigns, a young fennec, told Derringer.
The white wolf sighed deep before replying "Patch him in. I guess I've eluded his wrath long enough."
"Yes, Sir. Patching now..." The ensign said and soon enough the angry face of a large Wolverine filled the screen.
"Captain Derringer!" The wolverine began shouting "I'll have you hanged for treason, damn you! Not only did you break the strict order of not firing onto the planet, you also moved your ship forward to do so, breaking the cordon we've established!"
Derringer didn't flinch, his face a stoic mask as he calmly replied "I received a priority call from the planetside requesting fire support. According to the dictates of Federate Navy Law I took action and acted accordingly."
"What could possibly be such a high-priority message that it overrides MY authority?" High Admiral Taaran shot back at Derringer, who still didn't flinch.
"Priority Alpha-plus, code NG115-Paladin. Go ahead and type it in, High Admiral, I'm sure your security rating is high enough to get the information." The wolf replied, grinning inwardly as the wolverine's angry face melted into one of utter disbelief.
"This... I can not believe it!" The high Admiral stammered.
"It is right there, plain as a day, for you to see High Admiral. Surely I need not remind you that this is not a secured line so you can't speak out loud what you're seeing on the screen?" Derringer said calmly.
"I... This... No, of course not, captain. But damn you! I'll make sure to file this incident in my report regardless! Taaran out!" The wolverine snarled and terminated the connection.
"Go right ahead and do that, High Admiral... That is your right." Derringer mumbled at the black screen, turning then his attention once again towards the tactical display.
"Sir! An unidentified vessel is approaching fast. It seems to have launched from the planet!" Another ensign, an otter, shouted.
Derringer's ears snapped up into attention, his eyes narrowing as he planted his paws onto the railing of the command stand "Pretty ballsy of the humans to try and fly through the blockade... Ready the main batteries, get me firing solutions and open fire on my command!"
The enemy ship was -apparently- about three to four times the size of The Saint's Rapier and much, much faster.
"Enemy ship launching torpedoes, Sir!"
"Evasive maneuvers!" Derringer barked and the Triumphant veered to the side. The torpedoes passed by them harmlessly, exploding some fifty kilometres behind them.
The meaning of the torpedoes came apparent only after the explosions, however, as the targeting computer went haywire, giving off completely erratic data. Worse, most of the fleet were suffering the same effects!
Meanwhile the human ship -a sleek black dart-shape- sped past Derringer's ship and zipped without much trouble through the sporadic, poorly-aimed fire of the rest of the fleet, passing easily through the gap left by the Triumphant in the cordon before engaging it's jump engines and vanishing.
Derringer stared at the tactical display with a grim expression. Clasping once again his paws behind his back as he said "Prepare for another angry call from the High Admiral, men. I'm sure he's not too pleased that one of the enemy slipped by us. Also, inform Master Sergeant Rowalski to get his ship ready. We need to get Schaefer and his boys off of that planet."
At the market plaza the battle raged on with neither side willing to give up. Almost all the Federate marines had small bruises or other minor injuries, though luckily there were only four casualties; two Hounds and two of Dhamon's men.
Ammo, however, was slowly starting to become an issue, and as such Fletcher had ordered everyone to use single fire only and to pick their targets carefully.
The humans had dug themselves in nice and proper all around the furs' position with reinforcements trickling in little by little.
A while later -Fletcher had no idea how long had passed since they'd dug in and sent a message for evac- the warning shout Fletcher and everyone else had been dreading for came: "Enemy armor!"
Fletcher felt his blood freezing in his veins as he moved to the side where the call had come from, seeing two heavy tanks rolling onto the plaza, their twin-barreled turret cannons swiveling slowly towards their position.
"Take cover!" was all Fletcher managed to shout as he dove down, the thunderous chain of four cannon blasts following a second later.
The furs hugged the ground, the shells of the tanks tearing massive gaps into the wall surrounding the top of the rise, sending several Marines flying through the air. Fletcher found himself being tossed around like a rag doll, landing uncomfortably onto his face.
The world spun in his eyes as he looked around, momentarily deafened by the explosions. His vision focused onto the two tanks, and in his mind's eye he could see the crew loading up for another volley.
"So this is how it ends? This is so fucked up..." Fletcher thought to himself as he lay there on the ground, just waiting for the killing blow.
The tanks never got to shoot again, however, as lines of massive tracer rounds pounded their armored shell, tearing them apart in a deadly display of brute force. Some lucky shots landed into their ammo storages and detonated the vehicles in a spectacular dual explosion.
"He's here! Rowalski's here!" Fletcher heard someone shout and he slowly rolled onto his back to see The saint's Rapier soaring down from the turbulent sky, the Hydra-class heavy gunship descending like a guardian angel with it's guns spitting fiery death and retribution.
A cheer rose from the remaining Marines, the humans on the market plaza below breaking into a run under the punishing storm of metal laid down by The Rapier.
The gunship landed with a heavy thump onto the rise, the hatches opening to let everyone scramble inside.
Fletcher saw Rowalski -the Malamute once again wearing his trademark white stetson- give him a thumbs-up from the cockpit window and the Lieutenant couldn't help but grin broadly as he hopped on board and headed for the cockpit.
Rowalski turned his seat around and flashed a grin at the dusty, dirty and beaten-looking Lieutenant "I see I made it in time. Where's the Colonel? I didn't see him in the crowd..."
Fletcher shook his head and sighed deep "We got separated. I don't know where he is or how long it'll take for him to get here or if he's alive at all."
Rowalski's grin died down slowly, the Malamute turning back to face the controls of the ship, his crew looking disheartened.
"I'm sure that old bastard is still alive. He's made of tough stuff, he won't die that easily. We'll be waiting for a while longer." Rowalski said, tossing then a glance at Fletcher "You should go see to your men. We brought some medical gear with us."
Fletcher just nodded even though Rowalski couldn't see it and then marched out of the cockpit.
"You'd damn well better be alive, Edward... I can't handle all the responsibility alone." Fletcher thought to himself.
At the edge of the market plaza, a group of four furs climbed wearily through a manhole, every one of them exhausted to the core as they slowly limped across the plaza.
"The Rapier is here! C'mon lads hustle up!" Schaefer shouted, starting to jog despite every muscle in his body complaining against his efforts.
Next thing he knew he was being lifted up and tossed over a broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Normally he would've complained that such treatment was not appropriate, that a proper officer would always carry their own weight, but he just couldn't find the energy for it.
Dan was also carrying Jim and Vincent with seemingly little effort, the wolf's brute strength and seemingly boundless endurance allowing him to run at a decent pace, hopping the stairs of the rise three at a time and grunting with the effort.
Dead tired on his feet, Dan lowered the three others on the ground to let them walk the rest of the way, their arrival greeted with thunderous howling and cheering, several pairs of helping hands pulling them on board.
Lastly, just as the doors were about to be shut, Ghost slipped in. He'd wrapped his head into black cloth with his eyes covered by a pair of round, green-lensed night-vision goggles, hiding his visage from the majority of the Marines.
"Sir! I'm glad to see you made it!" Fletcher shouted and threw a salute to Schaefer who was sitting heavily on one of the benches, strapping himself in with clumsy, tired hands.
"It's nice to be back, Lieutenant. Tell Rowalski to get us the hell out of here. I'm sick and tired of this Machala-forsaken cesspit." Schaefer replied, finally getting the harness strapped.
He looked around the passenger compartment of the gunship, noting with satisfaction the efficiency with which the Hounds were operating, helping each other get strapped in and ready for liftoff.
For the first time in what felt like ages Schaefer let his head fall back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to get some rest whilst they made the transit back to GFS Triumphant.
****
So there you have it. This wraps up the Sade Campaign, but fret not dear readers, for the Hounds' saga continues in the next (far yiffier) installment "Old Scars"!
Stay tuned, and don't forget to rate n' comment!
~Rhaz