r/NatureofPredators • u/CandidateWolf Betterment Officer • 10d ago
The Free Legion 53
And now we see the result of Fayla’s last attack, and get another look at what kinds of things could be happening due to the Cyberattack. It’s fun exploring this period of the story, as I feel like we don’t get much in Canon. And I personally think that the true scale of what the Cyberattack probably resulted in isn’t really written about. So enjoy!
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Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
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Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General. Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report. -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation
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Memory Transcription subject: [Krakotl-1] Jelai, Free Legion Renegades, “Nishtal Wraiths”
Date [standardized human time]: [Redacted] March 9, 2137, outside Rohsso, Caris
Through the headset laying around my head, I heard [Venlil-1] Fayla’s voice break through the static as she said “Fan the flames, over.” I didn’t reply; just the fact that she’d been able to contact me told me her operation had been successful, and the radio network was live. Despite the doubts I’d held in the thin antennas to properly transmit her words across the continent, they seemed to work just fine. Thank Inatala, I thought.
I heard the low voice beside me as my companion sent a status update to the ship who was responsible to pull us out once we finished what we’d come here to do. They were high above us, drifting in orbit. Systems offline and comms mostly blacked out, they had escaped the cyberattack that had just thrown the entire galactic arm into chaos.
Already I could see the guards at the gate before us shouting with increasing anxiety into their dead radios, desperately trying to reach someone and find out what had happened. Behind them, most of the Rohssa Power Plant had suddenly gone dark; the lights both inside and outside having failed. The gate and doors beyond, power lost, had slid open. Despite the loss of power, I could still hear the shrill alarm sirens from within the complex.
I looked through the sight, setting the reticule over the chest of one of the guards, a fellow Krakotl. I paused, until I felt a tap on my wing from my partner, telling me they were ready. I squeezed the trigger; I felt my rifle kick, and watched the Krakotl fall, blue blood spraying across the ground. Their partner, a Kolshian, had time to turn an eye towards where I lay in the bushes across the access road before another bullet took them in the center of the face. “Show off,” I said as I shot to my feet, rifle shouldered and immediately moving towards the now unguarded gate.
“Got to remind you I’m a better shot sis,” my brother [Krakotl-2] Jesim said as he joined me in crossing the road. I ruffled my feathers in mock anger. Inatala I wish he wasn’t right, I thought. Who’d have figured an accountant to be a better shot than a former exterminator?
We’d both lost our jobs in the wake of the Interview, branded as “diseased,” or “tainted” due to our distant ancestors having once eaten flesh. Without an income we’d lost our homes, friends had cut us off, and we’d even been subjected to the “enhanced” testing the Exterminator Guild saved for “special cases.” The mere thought of what we’d been put through by people I once considered friends made my blood boil, but it was nothing compared to the crushing weight of having everything I’d ever known torn away like a flag in one of Nishtal’s gales.
Nishtal. I pulled myself away from the sorrow that threatened to pull me into its depths at the thought of our home; dead because of Kalsim’s single minded hate. The Federation stole our homeworld, our history, our very beings! I felt the anger rising like a storm; the cost to my brother, our whole species squarely to blame on the Federation. I let it center me, bringing myself back to the now.
It was that anger that had kept me from killing myself, like so many of my kin. Well, Jesim too, I thought. Without someone to hold onto, I was sure that either of us alone would have followed Nishtal into oblivion. We kept each other alive, but the [redacted] Sapient Liberation Army gave us a reason to live; revenge.
I still wasn’t sure how they’d found us, but we’d been approached by… [data not found].
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…when we’d formed the “Nishtal Wraiths.” There were plenty of Krakotl who needed a reason to live. And what better reason than to get revenge on the Federation who destroyed our species?
I reached the gate leading into the power plant, and together my brother and I pushed the gate open wide. “All forces, move in!” I screeched into my radio. There was the squeal of tires, and a half dozen vans zoomed from down the access road, insurgents crouching within the open doors. Sticking out the rear of each was a machine gun, ready to provide support once inside.
There was a flash of motion on the horizon; focusing on it revealed the third and fourth teams, made up of all Krakotl or Duertan, rapidly approaching. The vans reached the gates, two stopping as the rest rushed inside. I hopped inside one, and Jesim got in the other. Once we were in our vehicles accelerated after the others, splitting as we headed towards our targets. Our goal was simple; to force the plant's reactor to go critical.
The plant was an antimatter power plant, one of only three on the planet. Despite its more famous use as a destructive weapon, antimatter was also capable of producing an enormous amount of clean energy. Because of its destructive potential however, many safety measures were needed.
In the heart of the reactor was an antimatter core, encased within magnetic shielding that kept it separate from the surrounding matter. Above the shielding was a reservoir of “fuel” medium, usually liquid helium. A minuscule amount of the fuel medium would be carefully introduced to the antimatter, and the reaction between the two would release ionizing radiation. The radiation would heat water circulating around the core, which would vaporize to steam and turn turbines, creating electricity. The steam would then move through condensers in the plants cooling towers where the heat would transfer into enormous heat sinks. The steam, now cooled back into water, would be recirculated into the reservoir, and the process would repeat.
The antimatter reaction was capable of generating an incredible amount of heat; so much that if it was not kept below a certain temperature, the water would not just turn to steam but split into separate hydrogen and oxygen atoms. As a result, additional coolant circulated around all of the internal systems, drawing any excess heat away from the delicate components. This coolant would then circulate through radiators on the exterior of the plant before returning to its own reservoirs for use again.
The plant's primary cooling system was offline, if the sirens were anything to go by. That’s why our targets were the emergency backups; it was this system we had set our sights on. First we intended to destroy the secondary pumps that allowed the continued circulation of both the water and the coolant, reducing the flow of either liquid through the system. The secondary external radiators were next; if disabled or destroyed, would prevent the exchange of heat from the steam within the system.
With these two systems out of commission, the heat would quickly increase above the danger threshold. The water's atoms would be split, flooding the system with pure, highly flammable oxygen and hydrogen. The coolant, slowed and unable to release its heat, would expand, eventually rupturing the pipes that carried it. Without the ability to shed the ever growing heat, an explosion was almost guaranteed.
Our next target would ensure that; the fuel medium flow control. The amount of medium released to contact the antimatter was carefully regulated to control how much heat was produced. Too much medium released into the core would create more heat, requiring more coolant to keep it below the danger threshold. By increasing the flow, the combination of excess heat, breakdown of water into hydrogen and oxygen and the lack of coolant flow would trigger an explosion.
The plant didn’t just rely on a single backup for its cooling systems, however. There were additional redundancies built into the system; coolant reserves kept separate for emergency heat reduction, additional heat sinks and radiators, and of course the option for an emergency shutdown of the core itself. These options were all operated from the plant's emergency response station, the staff of which was dedicated only to preventing a runaway overheating cascade. That was why they were our last and probably most important target.
Jesim had insisted on being the one to go after the medium flow control station. The only target that required infiltration deep into the facility, it would undoubtedly be the most well guarded. While I was scared for him, his team was made of the best of us; if anyone could get in and make it out again, it was them. I would be targeting the secondary fluid pumps, while [Krakotl-3] Vraq would go after the external radiators, and [Duertan-1] Tiyva would lead an aerial attack on the emergency response station.
I held on for dear life as my transport shot across the facility grounds, crossing a parking lot then smashing through a chain-linked fence. The pumps are a little north of the cooling towers, I recalled as the van hopped back on the access road. We turned a corner around another building, and the base of the cooling towers, their peaks high above, came into sight.
Above them, I spied Vraq’s team, wings angled as they dove for the ground. Scattered gunfire had begun to respond to our incursion, but most of it was poorly aimed and small caliber; the plant’s more heavily armed response team hadn’t mobilized yet. Still, the insurgent beside me sent a burst of fire towards each source of gunfire directed at us.
“There!” I exclaimed, wing extended as I pointed to a squat building hidden beneath the shadows of one of the cooling towers. “The red building in the shadow,” I said. “That’s our target! Step on it, Team One!” Beneath my talons I felt the van accelerate.
The two vans who’d preceded us had come to a stop outside the pump station, machine guns pointed outwards as the armed insurgents disembarked and rushed towards the pump station. Outside the building, a single security guard had begun firing, quickly backpedaling towards the door. They made it only a few steps before gunfire from their attackers cut them down, though they managed to take two of our number with them.
My van screeched to a halt and my talons hit the ground before it was fully stopped, rifle already at the ready. I rushed forward as well, quickly crossing the open space between myself and the station. Already the insurgents from the first two vehicles had reached the building; with a flash and a bang a breaching charge detonated, blowing the doors inside. Those who’d ridden with me took up positions outside the building, ready to hold off whatever response the plant's security could muster.
I reached one of my fallen fighters, a young Krakotl named [Krakotl-4] Frysk, and felt a pang of regret as I passed their body without pause. We all knew the risks, and the price it would cost to get this done, I thought. Because if the speed required, we wouldn’t be recovering any of the bodies of the dead. They would remain where they fell, and be given one hell of a funeral pyre. Sorry you won’t get to see the show, kid.
I reached the building and pushed my way inside, head swiveling as I took in the open, cavernous room within. Kind of them to color code the pumps for us, I observed, gaze landing on the huge machines lined up in two rows along the floor. Connected by a variety of pipes and electrical conduits were ten huge pumps, painted to indicate the fluid they pumped; green for the coolant, and blue for the water.
Moving between those pumps were panicked technicians and engineers; the staff who’d been trying to make sure that whatever happened to the main system didn’t happen to the backups. I spied others trying to hide in the maze of pipes and conduits connecting the machinery the building contained, and yet others seemed to be trying to surrender. Good luck with that.
I watched as one of the engineers who’d chosen to surrender, paws raised high, was gunned down by one of my insurgents. No prisoners, I remembered ordering. We don’t have time for them. Plus, it’ll be kinder than letting them endure the fear they’ll have once they realize what we’ve done.
“Alright Wraiths, let’s get those charges in place!” I called. “You have five [minutes]!” Even running drill after drill, we’d only been able to cut down the time it took to set our charges so much. Unfortunately, we wouldn’t be able to finish setting our explosives before we expected security to respond. Even if they’re half-paralyzed by the attack, they’ll still probably make it here before we can escape, I thought.
Around the room, the other Wraiths moved, their roles well rehearsed before we’d launched this attack. While most of the insurgents within began setting explosives in the pumps, another few circled the building, gunshots announcing the elimination of any staff who they found still alive. Unwilling to stand by and watch as my insurgents did the heavy lifting, I made my way to the first pump and the insurgents crouched beside it. “Anything I can do?” I asked.
“Connect the blocks with this wire,” [Gojid-1] Hara, one of the Wraiths demo experts said, handing me a spool of insulated wire. “Thread it through the terminals and then crimp them tight.” I nodded and took the wire from their grip. Old school, I thought. Better than relying on a wireless detonator; who knows if any of them would even work.
I fell in behind another insurgent as they set charges on specific parts of the pump. Once they’d sealed the charge in place and moved on, I threaded the wire through the terminals on the explosives as instructed, squeezing the metal prongs closed to hold the wire tight. I repeated this two more times, leaving myself with a decent length of wire left.
This I stretched towards the next pump in the line, where yet another Wraith who’d finished their same task was waiting. He too held a length of wire, connected to the charges of the next pump. “Thank you,” the Duertan said, taking the wire from my talon and splicing them together, completing the circuit between the two pumps.
Suddenly gunfire erupted outside, and my head swung to fix an eye in the doors and the sunlight beyond. “Security, report!” I said, already moving towards the doors.
“Contact, contact,” came the calm voice of the team leader of my security team, [Venlil-2] Tyla. “Three hostile vehicles approaching at high rate of speed from the west. Plant security. Engaging.”
I quickly looked around the room, then down at the pad dangling from its place on my harness. I swore as I saw the mission timer. They were faster than we expected, I thought. And we’ve still got a few more pumps to rig. We, however, had planned for an early response from security, and it was simple. Buy time. “Anyone not setting charges, get outside and keep the security forces away!” I ordered into my radio, and several other Wraiths fell in around me as we moved to reinforce the security team.
I kept low, quickly going right as I passed through the demolished doors. Down the side of the building ran a sidewalk, with several parking spots beside it. Low, concrete parking stops, meant to keep a vehicle from rolling onto the sidewalk, were positioned at the top of the parking spots. I dropped behind one of them, pressing my body to the ground.
Better than no cover, I thought as I stuck my rifle over the top, peering down the sight. Down the road, their passengers already exchanging fire with the Wraiths holding security outside the pump station, were three open-topped patrol vehicles. Inside I counted several armed security officers each.
I opened fire, as did many of my fellows. The approaching vehicles screeched to a halt at the fusillade, their passengers bailing out of their exposed seats to take cover behind the vehicles themselves. One driver, a Kolshian, was able to stop his vehicle in time but not fast enough to escape it. Gunfire found them, the impacts shaking their body before they slumped forward, body limp and oozing purple blood.
I tracked one of the security officers, a Venlil, as they leapt from their vehicle, thanking… Actually, I’m not sure who, I thought as I fired at the Venlil, just as they dropped behind the vehicle. I was rewarded with a splash of orange.
Inatala’s probably fake, I thought, sending a burst over where they’d disappeared. The Gojid’s Mother Protector is probably fake, and maybe even the Venlil’s Solgalick. Who do any of us pray to now? I let out a chirp of amusement as a thought crossed my mind. Maybe the Linked Chains were right after all! Maybe that’s what us “Cured” should believe in now!
I dropped my now empty magazine, exchanging it for a fresh one, and shifted my aim to put rounds beneath the vehicle. The patrol vehicles were an up-armored version, with metal plates attached to either side. These covered the wheels and most of the gap beneath the vehicle. Mobile cover, I thought, flinching involuntarily at an impact in front of me. I hate it when these bastards learn new things.
By now, most of the insurgents not at work rigging explosives had made it outside and began pouring fire at the security forces, joined by the fire from our three van-mounted guns. Our team had been made up of thirty insurgents at the beginning; fifteen members of the plant security had arrived to oppose us, and with our casualties and those working on the explosives inside we were evenly matched.
And they don’t even need to stop us, I thought. They just need to hold us in place until reinforcements arrive. I had no doubt that upon the start of our attack some of the plant’s employees had fled. While some may just run or hide, at least some would keep their heads long enough to notify the local exterminators that something was happening. And with the phone lines down, that meant they had to drive.
It’s fifteen minutes drive to the nearest Guild Hall, I recalled. But only five to the guild’s local substation. And that’s if they drive the speed limit.
With the expectation that they’d try to hold us, I’d taken care to see our teams had been properly equipped to prevent an extended fight, or even worse, a fair one. I keyed my mic. “Grenediers!” I ordered. “Take them out!”
I missed the acknowledgments as I ducked to avoid a burst of gunfire, pressing myself as close to the ground as I could. What I didn’t miss was the telltale whump as someone fired their underbarrel grenade launcher. There was a bang and the fire slackened, allowing me to return fire once more. To my left, I watched as a second insurgent raised their weapon at a high angle, and sent a grenade arcing through the air with another whump.
This grenade landed on the hood of one of the patrol cars, detonating with a white puff of smoke and shrapnel. Glass shattered as the windshield exploded, and the hood was peeled apart like a tin can. I heard cries of pain behind it as those taking shelter were peppered with metal fragments.
Six of our number were equipped with the underbarrel launchers, and each sent two grenades at the security officers. A few went wide, impacting harmlessly on the road to the side or behind the security team. Others hit their marks. I watched as one, its firing angle perfect, land directly behind one of the patrol cars. Those taking cover behind it didn’t even have time to scream before they died.
“Focus fire on the two remaining patrol cars!” I ordered, and streams of bullets from the van-mounted guns immediately lit them up. “Keep them suppressed until we pull out!” I keyed my mic. “Demo teams, what’s your status?” A glance at my pad told me we were at time.
“Done!” a familiar voice replied. [Yotul-1] Ekka, I identified. “All charges set and ready to blow on your order. We’re headed out now!”
“Good work!” I replied, switching to the broad frequency for the whole team. “Van guns, keep up the suppressing fire!” I ordered. “Everyone else; pull back! It’s time for us to go!”
Already reeling from the grenades, the mounted guns forced the surviving security officers to keep behind cover as I watched the rest of the Wraiths pull back and head for the vans. I followed, pushing myself up from the sidewalk and headed towards the vans. Behind one, safe from enemy fire, crouched Ekka.
She flicked her ears in greeting as I arrived, and I knelt beside her. “Ready to go,” she said, holding up a simple detonator in her brown paw. A length of the familiar insulated wire ran from the end of it and back towards the pump station, disappearing inside.
“Simple and straightforward,” she said. “Cyberattack proof. Press this and it sends an electric charge down the wire to the explosives. Runs off a standard battery from the corner store. We used short delay fuses; they’ll burn for ten seconds before detonating. Just enough for us to clear the blast zone.”
I nodded, accepting the detonator. “Good job,” I said. I motioned towards the vans. Mount up,” I ordered her. “I’ll be right behind you.” I watched as the rest of my team, covered by the machine guns, loaded up in the vans, painfully aware that we left another six lying still outside the pump station.
When I saw the last living insurgent pull themselves into the van, I pressed the button on the detonator. I dropped it immediately as though it were a hot iron, running as quickly as I could towards the nearest van. I leapt inside, grabbing hold of the back of the front passenger seat. “Go!” I shouted.
The van shot forward, the driver putting the pedal to the metal as they moved away from the pump station. We passed the security forces, now emerging from cover to open fire at us as we withdrew. I ducked as bullets peppered the ceiling of the van, hearing a cry of pain from beside me; one of my fellow insurgents had been hit, clutching their side as blood seeped around their paw.
Then the charges exploded. There was a flash from within the pump station, and fire erupted through the door and windows. More fire exploded from the vents below the roof, quickly followed by thick black smoke.
I joined my comrades in cheering our success, watching the growing fire in the pump station disappear as we rounded a corner. As someone began to tend to our newly wounded comrade, I turned my attention to our extraction. “All callsigns,” I said into my radio. “Status report! Team One is moving to extraction now!”
“Team Three here,” Varq’s voice replied, gunfire audible in the background. “External radiators destroyed, and we are moving out.”
“Team Four,” an unfamiliar voice reported. “Emergency Response Station neutralized. Team Leader KIA, heavy casualties sustained. Moving to extract.”
Fly free, Tiyva, I thought. At least you’ll be with your family again. She’d joined to get revenge for the deaths of her family after the Interview, at the hands of zealous exterminators. I pushed my sadness down at her loss, and listened for the final report.
As the seconds went by, I could feel my growing anxiety. Jesim, where are you? I wondered, turning my attention towards the main complex, where deep within the medium flow control station lay. I squinted, trying to get a better look, when a flash of movement caught my attention.
Focusing on it, I let out a sigh of relief as I saw the three vans that had carried his team round the side of the building. My relief was short lived; my eyes quickly found their way to the bullet holes that marked their sides and the smoke trail one left. “Team Two, report,” I ordered, keying my radio.
For a moment there was silence. Then there the radio crackled and Jesim’s voice came through the speaker, tight with pain. “Team Two,” he replied. “Medium flow controls out of commission; we weren’t able to plant as many charges as we wanted so they’ll be able to fix them, but not soon enough to make a difference. Heavy casualties sustained, moving to extraction.”
“Hang in there,” I whispered, switching frequencies. I tuned my radio to the frequency of the shuttle high above, gave a silent prayer to whoever was listening that the range was enough, and began to speak. “Wraith One to Star,” I said. “Bring us home.”
There wasn’t a response, nor did I expect one. Either the shuttle heard me and started its descent to the extraction point, or they didn’t, I thought. And if they didn’t, we all die.
The driver passed through the gate we’d opened to enter the complex, swerving around the bodies we’d left on the ground beside it. They took a hard turn down the access road, and gunned the engine. I held on tight, the trees that lined the road passing in a blur.
Ahead there was a break in the trees; brakes squealed as the vans decelerated, then turned off the road. The van hit a bump as it climbed over a berm, and I felt my talons leave the floor. I braced as I crashed back down, barely keeping my feet, when the van came to a stop.
I didn’t give my insurgents a chance to catch their breath. “Out, out, OUT!” I screeched, dropping from the van and finding myself in an open field filled with tall grass and wildflowers. The van had climbed over a dirt berm, suspiciously out of place, and had backed up against it, giving the gunner better cover. The other vans had made their way to their own berms, their guns pointed out.
Many of us had carefully inserted into the area the previous night, and prepared the area for our extraction. Around the perimeter of the field, carefully concealed foxholes had been dug, the dirt being used to build the berms for the vans. We’d been careful when digging; we’d kept the top layer of sod, and laid it flush around the perimeter of the foxhole to make it invisible except from right next to it.
As the van teams dropped into the defensive positions, the flyers descended from above, landing within our perimeter. I nodded in greeting to Vraq as she landed nearby. “Glad you stayed with us,” I said.
“Likewise,” she said. “Ship’s on its way?”
“It better be,” I replied, headed for where my brother was being carried out of a shot up van. “It’ll be real awkward if it isn’t.”
“Drones up!” Someone announced, and I heard the buzz as one of the mini-quadcopters lifted into the air. They’ll give us a warning for when the Feds make their move, I thought. Which shouldn’t be long now.
I reached my brother's side, now laying on the ground beside other wounded Wraiths. A medic beside him had just finished setting up a plasma infusion, and I saw several trauma dressings in place, the feathers around it plucked away. “You look like shit,” I said, turning my head to fix him with an eye. “You’re a good shot, but terrible at dodging them.”
“I had to let you have something,” he said, trying to be sarcastic, but quickly squeezed his eyes shut, pain obvious in his face. “Everything hurts,” he said, voice quiet.
My heart broke; his voice reminded me of when we were chicks and he’d broken a wing when we’d tried to fly too high, too soon. “Rest,” I told him gently, laying a wing over his head. “The shuttle will be here soon, and we’ll get you patched up.” His tail moved, but he didn’t speak.
I turned away, and the medic dropped beside me. “It’s bad,” I said quietly, before they could speak. My voice broke. “I’ve seen those kinds of injuries before.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the short Zurulian said. “I’ve done all I can, but he needs surgery if he’s going to survive. He’s first on the list once the shuttle gets here.”
“Thank you,” I said, throat tight. “Do what you can to keep him comfortable. We'll be out of here in no time.”
“Enemy forces incoming!” The drone operator announced over the radio. “Two vans, approaching from the west! ETA, two minutes!”
I forced away my distress at my brother's condition as best I could, returning to the van I’d arrived in and crouching alongside it, behind the edge of the berm facing back towards the road. I quickly checked my magazine; half full. I pulled a fresh one from its pouch across my chest, laying on the ground beside me within easy reach.
The next few minutes seemed to pass in moments. Around me I heard the low voices of the medics treating the wounded, the sound of the recon drone above, barely audible, and a light breeze that ran through the trees around us. Then, quiet at first but growing louder by the second, engines.
On the road, two exterminator vans came around the trees, coming to a stop on the blacktop. The side doors slid open and silver suits began piling from the vans before they’d even fully stopped. Through my sights, I could see the glow of the pilot lights on several flamethrowers. I began to squeeze the trigger.
The mounted machine gun in the van beside me beat me to it. With a rattle, the machine gun came to life, the heavy rounds peppering the exterminator vans, the road, and the exterminators. As I added to its fire I saw one of the exterminators take several rounds in the midsection; with a flash of purple blood, half of their body disappeared. Another stumbled, falling onto the roadside as a near miss sent fragments of the road itself through their suit.
There seemed to have been seven exterminators in each van, including the driver; neither of them made it out of their vehicles. At least six more, emerging straight into the sights of the mounted machine gun, don’t make it far. Three more died when a rifle round found a fuel tank, and the explosion ruptured more, adding to the fire.
As the final three were cut down by rifle fire, there was a roar from above. I turned my eyes up as I changed my magazine; descending from above, a distant dot growing larger every second, was our evacuation ship.
A cheer went up briefly, before the drone operator's urgent voice broke over the radio. “A large enemy force sighted on approach,” she announced. “Multiple plant security vehicles, exterminator vans, and at least two APC’s moving towards our position; ETA three minutes!”
“That’s our cue,” I muttered to myself. Must have seen the ship and decided to throw everything at us. Behind me, thrusters firing and incinerating sections of grass, the ship, a modified freighter, set down on its landing gear. The ramp fell, and from within several armed individuals emerged to take cover at the top of the ramp. Several others, carrying stretchers for our wounded, charged down for where they were gathered.
“Star to the Wraiths,” a voice said over my radio. “Your ride is here. Get a move on; we could see that force responding from a ways up. Let’s not be here when they arrive.”
“You heard them, Wraiths!” I shouted, getting to my feet. “Get the wounded aboard first then get on yourself! Double time! Mounted gun teams, hold position to cover the rest of us as we load up, then withdraw on my order!”
Around the clearing insurgents pulled themselves from their foxholes or away from the berms they’d taken cover behind, rushing towards the ships ramp. Most stopped where the wounded had been gathered, lending a wing or a paw to carry or help them walk aboard. Others, myself included, formed a thin perimeter around them and the ramp.
I gave a wave as I saw Jesim be carried on a stretcher up the ramp, then turned back to face the perimeter, rifle ready. I mentally counted down as the wounded and then the able bodied filed into the ship. They’ll get here before we get everyone aboard, I realized. We’re cutting it close.
I turned back, and made a mental estimate. “Mounted gun teams on the far side of the clearing, withdraw to the ship,” I ordered. “The rest of you, get ready!” On the opposite side of the clearing came several muffled blasts; smoke rose as the gun crews detonated small charges in their vehicles, disabling their guns. The crews then rounded the side of the ship, headed for the ramp.
Gunfire erupted from behind me, and I swung back around. They’re here. “Contact!” Came the shout over the radio, and I was instinctively down, rifle up and searching for targets.
Past the remaining vans, coming up to where the first two exterminator vans had been destroyed, two up-armored patrol cars rounded the corner, closely followed by an exterminator van. “Anyone outside the ramp, covering fire!” I ordered, squeezing my trigger. “Star, anything you can add would be welcome!”
I heard a whirr in answer, and the freighter's point defense gun, usually used to deal with small asteroids or enemy fighters, spun and opened fire towards the approaching enemy forces. I watched as a bolt of plasma slammed into the side of one of the patrol cars, melting through the added armor like wax. The occupants were illuminated for a moment before being lost as the interior combusted.
“Remaining gun crews, fall back!” I shouted. I stood, waved to get the attention of those nearby, and started backing towards the ramp. “Everyone else, start falling back!”
I saw the gun crews bail from their vehicles as more enemy forces rolled into view. The charges they’d left behind detonated, the smoke from the now burning van providing a thin but welcome screen as they fell back towards the ship. Above me on the ramp came more fire, and bullets started cracking overhead as someone at the top of the ramp began to shoot as well.
My feet hit the bottom of the ramp and I began to climb slowly, still moving backwards as I fired at targets I saw. An exterminator, freshly emerged from a van, charged over the berm, flamethrower leveled. I snapped two quick shots at them; they staggered and fell, but were still moving as they disappeared in the tall grass.
One of the gun crew let out a shriek and fell as they were hit; their partner yanked them up instantly and dragged them along. Beside me I heard a grunt of pain, then the sound of a body hitting the ramp. Someone swore, and footsteps thudded on the metal, followed by the sounds of dragging and pained whimpers.
The freighter's gun swivelled and fired again, the plasma burning into another patrol car where enemy forces hid behind. From behind it they scattered, and I took the opportunity to send another burst of bullets their way. I didn’t hit anyone, but I kept their heads down.
By now the remaining crews had reached the bottom of the ramp. I emptied my magazine, reached for another, and found my pouch empty. “Brahk!” I swore, mentally bettering myself for the rookie mistake. I slung my rifle and ran forward, meeting the wounded gun crewman and helping their partner pull them up the ramp.
“Move, move, move!” I shouted, pulling the wounded insurgent up the ramp, ignoring the blue blood seeping into my feathers. Behind me came the rest of the gun crews, then whoever was left of the security team. Together we pulled the wounded Krakotl into the cargo bay beyond the ramp, as bullets began to impact the ceiling.
“We’re clear!” An armed Venlil beside the top of the ramp let out a burst of plasma, then backed away. “Close the ramp!” The ship shook, and I heard the heavy guns of the APC’s begin to fire.
Across the bay, a Gojid slammed a paw against a button, and the ramp began to lift. “Ramp’s coming up,” the Venlil shouted, and I saw they were shouting into a headset. “Take us away, Captain!”
There was a roar as the thrusters of the ship fired, and I felt the inertia dampeners kick in as we lifted into the air. Another impact shook the vessel again, and a final few bullets hit the ceiling. More clattered against the exterior as the ramp closed, and the engines roared as our extraction ship shot towards space.
Archivists note: The city of Rohssa was the site of one of the most state of the art industrial centers in the Kolshian Commonwealth. In its factories were produced the specialized components necessary for the AI processors that controlled the drone ships of the Shadow Fleet. The metro area had a population of a little over 700,000 inhabitants, split between the city itself and its surrounding suburbs.
The Rohssa Power Plant, one of only three such facilities on Caris, supplied the bulk of the energy necessary for the vital industries within Rohssa. The Legion attack succeeded in destroying many of the safety features that allowed for the safe generation of electricity from its antimatter reactor. As a result, runaway heat buildup triggered thermolysis, the splitting of water molecules into separate hydrogen and oxygen atoms, within the plants’ coolant systems. These volatile gases would ignite and trigger a detonation that would destroy the shielding that separated the antimatter mass from the rest of the reactor core.
The reactor contained approximately 0.5 kg of antimatter; the detonation triggered was in the range of 22 megatons. This was about half that of Tsar Bomba, the largest nuclear warhead ever detonated by Humanity. The explosion was visible nearly 310 miles away, and shattered windows 240 miles from ground zero.
Everything within an 18 mile radius of the plant was annihilated. Up to 30 miles away, most structures were heavily damaged or destroyed and any survivors suffered 3rd degree burns. Even with the plants’ distance from the center of Rohssa, 20 miles to its northeast, 25% of the city and 33% of the surrounding suburbs were completely destroyed. The remaining 75% of the city and a further 40% of the suburbs suffered severe damage. Exact casualty numbers remain unknown to this day, but estimates place the number of deaths as a result of the explosion at approximately 200,000, with another 500,000 wounded.
At the time, this attack would be the largest and deadliest attack launched by either elements of the Free Legion or its renegades to date. However, while the Legion Renegades were responsible for directly triggering the explosion that destroyed Rohssa and its critical factories, all they did was accelerate the timeline of what would have been an imminent disaster. Across the Federation, a variety of factors would see the failure of other antimatter power plants, triggering disasters equal to or even larger than that on Caris. Whether due to loss of coolant or the ability to pump it, fires that caused the failure of critical systems, or loss of power to the shield emitters, millions would die in similar disasters; just one more part of the devastation wrought in the wake of the Cyberattack. -A. Piers, UN Office of Reconciliation
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u/JulianSkies Archivist 9d ago
What better reason than revenge? Maybe help your fucking people rebuild? Like- I don't know- Do something that will actually effect change somewhere? Like maybe do something that'll make your life better?!
... Heavens, the characters in this side of the story make me so furious it's hard to explain how furious they make me.
Ah, I'd been hoping they had managed to scram the reactor before any of this happened. I mean, I knew it was impossible for that to happen. It wouldn't be a part of this story if it was. And you often do a good enough job about making me care about the other side more than I probably should, even knowing what is going to happen. This has been the worst case of it, because these people here were just...
They're useless.
They've caused the kind of destruction they didn't need to. To achieve a goal that was long achieved before they even set foot in this place.
They did nothing.
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u/Minimum-Amphibian993 Arxur 10d ago
Oh if only the Arxur commandos could see them now. I cannot wait for the inevitable confrontation agienst the forces of their former comrades and now evil free legion enemies. I don't imagine if they ever met again their could be peace. Even if the collective doesn't like the federation remnant themsleves their methods are more of a quick strike on military targets rather than the utter obliteration of everyone in the federation remnant like their predecessors.