Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The Fall of Kordat


The wind was hot and humid on Kosh’s face. Settling back down into the assault craft, he fastened his face plate back into position and looked down the crafts bay. His men were sitting, adjusting their Gravity Repulse straps and securing their gear as he would have expected. The optical read out from his visor listed their squad numbers and last names. A sudden buffeting jarred the craft and Kosh grabbed a hold of the nearby tie-downs to steady himself. The rest of the squad adjusted their weight and stood up to form a loose line, each checking the other from helmet to thigh holsters.

A thinner man in a grey jumpsuit and flight helmet worked his way down from the front of the craft. He approached Koshmarnaya and nodded, "We’re approaching the target drop zone. Five minutes until we’re ready to drop you, sir."

Kosh nodded and slid his fingers to the side of his helmet. He pressed a small series of buttons and his optics switched to interlink with the pilot’s satellite data. A thin transparent overlay was brought up in front of his eyes and displayed the assault craft’s position over the terrain. Its small icon streaked across a lush rainforest toward the outlines of a large city. Turning, Kosh stepped over to the rear of the craft. Finding the small panel next to the large vertical doors, he punched a large button and the doors hissed open. The dark warm night air flooded the bay and he knelt down to look out the rear of the plane, checking the approach with that of his overlay visor. He felt a gloved hand on his shoulder and turned his head. All of his men were in line behind him. Dark face plates devoid of distinguishing marks, they looked like twelve faceless harlequins, each an enigmatic and expressionless jester that only they themselves recognized.

Pressing his helmet’s command node once again, the overlay minimized and Kosh double checked his gear. A small timer counted down the few minutes they had until they were clear over the target. The dark moonless night was suddenly lit by a series of bright flashes from the dense ground cover. Scanning the ground, he could make out several large armored units exchanging fire. Mostly lacking in friend-or-foe identifiers, he could only count two remaining friendly units and each had initiated their overrun identifier. The crew chief that had spoken to him earlier had come to stand at the rear of the bay with them. Using a small rifle marker, he began tagging several of the green-gray armored tanks and spoke a few small words. The air above them was filled with four small streaks of light, each a fiery burst as the projectiles gained super velocity and slowed as they entered the atmosphere. A moment later, loud resounding cracks sounded and four large flashes left small craters where the defending tanks had once been. The craft rolled to the starboard as the city of Kordat came into view. Its lights dimmed as power was no doubt being diverted from the civic structures to power the large shield, occasionally arcing with power from a deflected shell or rail round.

Standing up, Kosh formed a three then a zero with his left hand. A sturdy tap on his right shoulder told him that his men were ready and the counter in his visor began the fast pace of clicks to zero. Anti-aircraft rounds shredded through the night around them. Obviously blind firing and unable to lock onto the craft’s signature, he made a mental note of where the points of origin were. He swept his left arm forward and stepped off the small ramp into the warm night.

The fall was fast as always, the gravimetric replusors kicking in a mere fifty feet above the canopy. It felt as if a large shell had hit him in the gut. The brief flash of energy that occurred when it activated was enough to show him he would come down safely and he braced for the landing that arrived a few moments later. Rolling on the ground, he unlatched the harness that kept the gravity device on. He then unfastened a small kit bag that held several pieces of equipment and a composite rifle, which he clipped onto a suit attached retractable sling. Looking around through the enhanced night air, he could see the other twelve members of his team nearby and merging on his position. Kneeling, he spoke, "Zero-four and zero-ten keep on our flank. The rest with me, it’s only three-hundred meters to the generator site. You are clear to engage any outlying sentries." A series of affirming responses clicking over the communication unit told him the order had been received. The rest of the team arrived on his position and he motioned them toward a small concealed building barely noticeable from the satellite feed.

Stepping silently forward, the group made its way the short distance until several men in combat fatigues could be seen talking near a tree roughly forty meters from their current position. The left most soldier lit a cigarette and took a long drag. A small rifle round perforated his throat, the heat from it cauterizing the wound. A small trail of cigarette smoke exiting the wound was the only tell tale sign that he had been hit. His partner turned to get a short glimpse of the attackers as his chest received the same swift fate. Rushing towards the structure, Kosh could see the rest of his men checking the surrounding walls to the tiny compound for any inbound patrols. A number of clears were given and his team formed behind him as they made their way to the main doors.

A pair of large carbide blast doors stood sealed to anyone lacking proper authorization. The soldier next to him, a man named Kayrik, rushed to the console and pulled a small device from his suit’s leg holster. It clicked and whined as he brought it to a few inches within the doors control panel, a series of red lights began flashing green and the doors slid open suddenly. A group of men in ad hoc combat gear turned, stunned at the sight of the eight man entry team storming the entryway. Their faces turned to horror as the lead man dropped his rifle and raised his hands in surrender, only to be put down with the same efficient lethality the perimeter had received.

Reaching a small T-intersection, Kosh unclipped two pulsating orbs from his suit and threw one in each direction. There was a blinding flash, and four men ran down each corridor. The seared and burned bodies of the people that had been down the corridors showed the effect that was invisible during the flash. Kosh reached the door that he had been looking for. It lay open, sparking from the electromagnetic pulse that accompanied the explosions. The control room before him was empty. The small hatch to the rear of the room had just been sealed, but through one of the blast windows he could make out a large number of civilians that had sealed themselves in the generator room of the complex. Disregarding them for a moment, he pulled one of the small devices from the kit bag out and set several icons on the device before attaching it to the main console that sat spewing out data and numbers to fast for him to comprehend. Once attached, it melted its way onto the console, fusing itself with the device as to make removal impossible.



Turning, he spoke again, "Target achieved. Withdraw to designated area and alert the craft for removal." Again a series of succinct affirmatives chattered back and he turned, heading out of the control room towards the hall. The sudden screams and profanities from behind the blast window garnered only a momentary glance from his obscured gaze before he stepped over the felled guards and made his hasty departure. Once outside, his team formed on him and they spread into the tree line. His visor showed that zero-two had already used the recall canister. Its small black figure emitted a pulse beacon that brought the deep thumping of the craft’s gravimetric engines. The sleek engines blasted the air around them with deep ripples of energy. The craft sat down amid the small clearing just outside the jungle line. He motioned for his team to board and he took up the rear, walking backwards as his feet hit the boarding ramp. He grabbed hold of a small hand rail on the inside of the bulkhead and interlinked with the craft once more, giving his all clear. The craft rapidly rose skyward, once again missing the barrage of tracer fire that sought to down his lifeline.

He watched the city get smaller as the craft sped away, a small blur formed where they had been. Just as quickly a dark sphere rose, only to implode the compound, leaving a small crater of debris. A blinding glare from the force field over Kordat cascaded in the night and illuminated the sleek hull of the craft for a brief moment, its sudden and glorious death scream sounding across the landscape above the trees. His visor automatically dimmed the bright light and he could see the sky alive with missiles from orbit. They arrived moments later, connecting with the city in vivid explosions and vociferous roars. He turned and entered the main bay, finding a small cargo net seat to sit in. He disconnected his face plate and sat back, running his fingers over the small embossed mark under his left eye. He smiled and fell gently asleep as the craft closed and pressurized to breach the darkness of space once more.

Ruthless Truths

You might ask why I implore those who work for me to feel sorrow for those things life demands of us, or, for that which we must do to survive. You might wonder why those who hold a true place within our organization are reluctant to step from the shadows and speak out when we have loyal supporters who would treasure their words. Perhaps the truth is simply that we have seen things that leave us changed. And while there are those within our organization who interpret such change as a mere excuse for our ruthless actions--actions that justify our attempts to live some semblance of sanity--I would tell you that we have seen beyond what most can fathom and we are guilty of wanting more--far more.

Sarito Ide - Domination, Counciler of Exploratory Projects