Boundary - Low Orbital Warfare: REPORT 12

 

It was quiet on this side of the fence. Pressure sensors, especially those outside the secondary patrol perimeter, were sensitive enough to be triggered by the shifting tides of dust. And at this hour of the night on a new moon, the possibility of any human infiltration triggering the alarm was out of the question.

The leader of the patrol sighs as he stops at the far edge of the field, raising his hand up to signal for the rest of his three-man squad to approach. “انه واضح. إنذار كاذب مرة أخرى!”

Their relaxed figures jog over from their kneeling positions, the first speaking up with slight disappointment. “ مرة أخرى؟…”

“القيادة ما زالت متوترة بعد الشهر الماضي. من الذي سيأتي لا يهاجمنا الآن؟” The other man interrupts with a laugh, clapping their leader on the back. “أعني بجدية…”

Up here on the ridge line, the Patrol had a complete overview of the complex below. Floodlights illuminate dusty roads, buildings surrounding a rocket on the launch pad. A few military logistics trucks maneuver through serpentine paths, sending particulate into the chilly night air. Bunkers of concrete stand between all, constructed to last for generations. 

Surrounding the entire center; a huge twelve-foot-tall wall was topped with barbed wire fencing. Watchtowers built every twenty meters, surface to air missile launchers every fifty, the place looked more like a fortress than a site of supposed research.

Speaking into his radio, the Patrol Leader reports their findings. “CP ، كل شيء واضح. “

The reply is filled with uncharacteristic static, voice barely heard through interference. “نسخ ، يرجى التأكيد على الانفصال؟…”

Slapping his radio the man repeats himself. “CP يقول مرة أخرى”

“يتم إخ…. ا… ة غير م….عروفة” The radio barely spits out before jamming shut, the entire patrol exchanging concerned glances.

Behind them a noise of metal smashing against rock echoes from an incline ten meters away, perking well trained ears. Rifles at the ready, they whip around to face the unseen threat, the expanding darkness around them revealing nothing but black.

The Patrol Lead raises a closed fist to his squad, the pair of men behind him scanning the source of the noise with rifle mounted flashlights.

Like a deer in fast approaching headlights they immediately fixate on its source: a figure clad in plates of ceramic armor, black assault rifle in his chest carrier, and a comically overstuffed backpack on his frame splayed out onto the dusty Earth.

An awkward second arrives as gazes meet, minds crashing in utter surprise.

Eyes widen, voices raise in warning, silenced weapons fire cutting the Patrol down in an instant. 

“Hostile down.” Blue Three reports as her form materializes from darkness.

“Clear.” Blue One confirms, turning to their conspirator with a low, quiet growl. “操, Keys you are too loud!”

“I’m carrying fifty fucking pounds of gear Ling!” The man bites with a hush, carefully getting back up. “Fuck! I didn’t even see this ledge!”

One of the guards moans as life leaves his body, Blue Three filling the frame with two more rounds from her silenced sidearm. “So are we going to hide the corpses…”

“It would not have a point.” Master Sergeant Ling sighs as he helps his fallen comrade back onto his feet. “The force will arrive soon, and when they do the Facility will know we are here anyway.”

“Well, ‘the force’ was supposed to be here five minutes ago.” Lieutenant Keys whispers. 

“They were?” Both other squad members reply in unison.

“It's 0407.” The man reports as he hunches down. “This thing’s supposed to start at 0400 dead and we’re meeting them here at 0405.”

They take a moment to mull it over.

“Maybe they were delayed.” Ling offers.

“A SEAL Team delayed?” The Lieutenant pauses, reality striking him. “Oh god what if they burned us?!”

“Burned us?”

“No show, left us here. I mean… the U.S. and U.N. aren’t always on the best of relations right? I mean, the Peacekeeping Corps just had a blue-on-blue firefight with some marines last week in South America. What if this is their way of getting us back?!”

The Master Sergeant narrows his eyes. “Your lack of confidence in your own home country is… concerning.”

“I don’t know dude I’m not used to this waiting!” Lieutenant Keys bites. “I can’t…” 

Corporal Mercier hushes the pair from behind, and the two immediately lower their voices.

“You are extremely stupid, and you need to calm down.” Ling quietly whispers. “All we need to do is wait, they will come meet us here.”

“But what if they don’t?” The Lieutenant begins. “I mean I…”

A spotlight from one of the watchtowers glances over them, stopping dead as it fixates on the squad. Night vision dims, the combat software automatically compensating as the presumed hostile in the tower a quarter mile away is marked.

“Oh fuck.” Blue Two vocalizes.

“Oh no.” Blue One follows. “Get down!”

Blue Three twirls on her heels, rifle in hand as she crumples into a shooting position. In a blink crosshairs align, breath held as her dark eyes confirm the target.

Grabbing the radio from his stand the watchman begins to yell out a warning in panic, voice cut as the nine-millimeter rifle round evaporates the man’s upper torso.

Blue Three blinks as she cycles the bolt action on her suppressed rifle, watching as the body slumps behind the wall. Her second round, aimed squarely on the tower’s spotlight, plunges the squad into darkness again.

“Holy shit nice shot…” Blue Two begins.

“We can no longer hide the bodies.” Blue Three cuts him off, standing as she turns to the squad leader. “They will know we are coming if the check-in is not returned. If we are to abort, then we do it now.”

“The only path out is by the Helicopter from special forces.” Blue One thinks out loud. “If they do not come we are dead anyway in the desert.”

“Fuck.” Blue Two grits his teeth as he turns back to the facility. “This is not going to plan alright?! The moment Admiral Tucker put us up to this I KNEW…”

There is no prelude.

From the black of night the high pitched scream of a supersonic cruise missile shatters a universe in half. The entire squad instinctively dives for cover as the monster passes over them, explosive impact following with a shockwave that nearly buries them in dust. Audio limiters within helmets automatically deafen the soldiers, raw noise overwhelmingly dangerous to unprotected ears.

Three more missiles follow in quick succession, the opening symphony to Operation Shooting Star marked with absolute carnage and overwhelming force projection.

A full minute passes before Blue Squad is able to get off the dirt, adrenaline and pure shock slowly awakening bodies.

“Everyone OK?!” Master Sergeant Ling yells over the communication line.

“WHAT?!” Keys screams back as his helmet’s audio limiters feed white hot sound into his ears. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU?!”

Corporal Mercier blinks in awe struck silence. “T-that was cool…”

Fires burn within the facility, confused guards wandering in total shell shock as an air-raid siren begins to blare through the night before being silenced by power failure. Opportunity opened, the scheduled attack nowhere to be seen.

Behind the three marines a breeze picks up, slowly escalating to a beating blast of air as they spot the shape approach.

Painted pure black, angular in its frame; the tandem rotor helicopter is barely audible as it comes in for a landing. Noise suppression system on, the ten-ton war machine lets out a mere whisper as it settles onto the dusty earth.

From the rear ramp twelve heavily armed soldiers clad in dark camouflage emerge, rifles at the ready as the leader of the squad raises a shut fist. Voice filtered through her sealed combat helmet; the accent is distinctly American. “Uniform Sierra.”

“Blue Nike.” Blue One quickly answers with the countersign.

Lowering her hand the squad behind her keeps their weapons raised, sweeping the surrounding environment. “I’m Major Jacqueline Carter of SEAL Team Five. I assume you’re Blue Team?”

“Correct, we are Blue Team.” Blue One replies as he tries to emulate a North American accent, words slightly bumbled in delivery. “You are late.”

Without pause the woman makes a circular motion with an open palm, the squad fanning out into darkness as they clear the landing site. “My Squad’s Engineer will plug you into our tactical network.” She points to the thin figure behind her, the soldier rushing forward with a diagnostic tablet in hand. “Our orders are to escort you into Building Site Four and secure that location. After that we’ll be proceeding to our Secondary Objective in Building Nine. Your extraction point will be added by our system automatically.”

Network authorization granted; the Squad’s collective HUDs identifies the figure in front of them with a friendly blue.

“Thank you Major.” Blue One tries to compliment.

The woman remains still, her form staring down the squad in front of her. “Don’t get in our way like the usual Peacekeeper lot. I can’t afford to baby sit people like you.”

The three exchange glances through armored helmets, the response burdened upon Blue One. “What is the problem?”

“I know you Peacekeepers are trigger happy fucks. Do not shoot any of my men, is that clear?”

Blue Three announces aloud with a straight tone. “She is an asshole.”

“Yeah she is.” Blue Two agrees.

Through the thick helmet plating the pair detect a thin scowl, interrupted by a member of the landing team.

“Perimeter clear!” One of the SEALs yells.

“Alright get the M.U.L.E. out and we’ll get moving!!!” The Squad Leader barks to the crew within the helicopter.

Eyes wide, mouths salivating. Jealousy burns in spoiled hearts as the six-legged walking war machine marches off the cargo ramp. Painted in desert camouflage and its top turret equipped with a matched pair of minigun and anti-armor cannon, the M.U.L.E. Unit was as intimidating as was incredibly, “Awesome…” Lieutenant Keys lets out with a whimper. “M70A5, urban warfare upgrade package.”

Sensors activate, the tactical link within suits expanding outward as data is gathered, processed, and disseminated by the machine. Distant hostiles are marked, and the wireframe model of two more approaching friendly transport helicopters are discovered.

“We’re clear!” The Squad Leader confirms. “Clear for dust-off!!!”

Rotors raise as their idle purr turns to a low roar, the barely visible shape of the heavy lift helicopter slowly ascending back into a cloudless night sky. “Good luck down there Alpha Team.”

“Full copy and thank you.” The Squad Leader replies, switching her coms to the inter-command channel, Master Sergeant Ling now tapped in with his squad leader rank. “Bravo, Charlie Team be advised we are boots on the ground and have made contact with Blue Team, how copy?”

Direct eastward of their position a pair of blue squares are marked, the secondary landing site of the operation barely visible over massive distance 

The reply comes with a distinct North Asian accent. “Alpha Lead this is Bravo Lead. We are on the ground now.”

“Ready here as well.” Charlie Squad’s leader replies.

Alpha Lead nods to herself. “Advised Checkmate, all teams at ready. On your mark.”

The Operation Commander speaks the words, voice booming in execution. “All units this is Checkmate, Operation Shooting Star is green.” 

“Try to keep up.” Alpha Lead scoffs to the three-man fire team, motioning for her squad to regroup. “OP is green, let’s get moving!”

“I do not like her.” Corporal Mercier comments to her squad.

“Good thing we don’t have to deal with her for too long then.” Lieutenant Keys charges his weapon handle as he turns to the squad lead. “So, we going or not?”

Master Sergeant Ling frowns to himself, looking outward as he watches the facility burn. “Ok, let us go.”

Scanners push forward, software acquiring the point of entry to the launch facility as a handful of red forms are identified.

Within the front gate guardhouse, a few figures scramble against an unknown attack. Stunned from carnage, their forms arm themselves with an array of handheld sidearms and rifles.

Information dumps to minds within heads up displays, tactical analysis and visual indicators crawling as Alpha and Blue Team hit the hillside dirt.

TARGET//HOSTILE

WEAPON//M6-AR

RANGE//477 METERS

CLEARANCE//ENGAGE

Rifle fire erupts as a barrage of suppression fire covers the force’s approach, half of Alpha squad moving in a trained diamond formation towards the enemy position.

Magazines emptied, the advance team stops and take up firing positions. Tracers ignite, Alpha’s machine gunner now laying down a steady stream of rounds atop the hostile position.

“Holy fuck they’re good.” Lieutenant Keys ducks down as a few return rounds from the guard post snap overhead. “Admiral Tucker wasn’t messing around with these people.”

Master Sergeant Ling nods as best he can from his prone position. “The Admiral does not mess around with things like this.”

From their own position the silenced crack of Corporal Mercier’s rifle swings out an aimed salvo, her engagement range ballooning outward as targeting data from the M.U.L.E. is fed directly into her suit’s fire-control software.

A single facility guard peaks from one of the post’s windows, rifle igniting as they attempt to suppress the open positions of the approaching force. Behind him the wall is suddenly painted in gore, Blue Two cycling a fresh round into the chamber as the frame dissolves back into cover.

“Hostile down.” The marksman informs, adjusting her rifle as another target is spotted.

A guard sprints between the paired buildings as they attempt to reposition, the figure plastered onto dusty earth by a single, unseen shot.

“Hostile down.” The marksman repeats.

Behind Blue Team the M.U.L.E. marches past with machine precision. From its turret, the high-pitched whirring of spinning barrels a harbinger of violence.

“M.U.L.E. engaging.” Alpha Team’s engineer announces. “Keep your heads down.”

The roar of the rotary autocannon envelops the battlefield completely, bright red tracers bridging the hillside and target building as the automated system saturates the area with 20mm rounds.

Master Sergeant Ling turns to Lieutenant Keys as the thing marches past, yelling over the scream of gunfire. “Do they make those for orbital combat?!”

“If they do, we need one.” Keys agrees.

Stopping in its tracks the turret adjusts its angle, the targeted building scanned and processed; weak points in construction identified. 

Behind Blue Team the voice of Alpha Squad’s Engineer speaks up. “You guys might want to cover your ears for this one.” 

The coaxial anti-armor cannon booms forth five rounds of high explosive in quick succession, each shot evaporating reinforced concrete on contact. Within the guard post bodies and equipment are eviscerated, blood and bone scattered along with stone and metal.

For a moment the three-story building tilts, slowly faltering as the groan of destroyed structure rips through the night air.

Perfectly calculated, destruction is wrought within a controlled space. Collapsing onto itself like a house of cards, the entire structure’s footprint is contained within the rubble of the building’s first story.

Efficient, clean.

“Thank you God for demolitions algorithms.” The Engineer chuckles, yelling to the rest of his team. “We’re clear!”

Half a mile to the north a huge explosion rings out, the roar of an incoming missile sounding milliseconds later. Dirty and uncontrolled, debris is kicked up into an expanding cloud of concrete dust and metal shrapnel as the outer wall of the facility is demolished.

“Looks like Bravo and Charlie are havin’ a good time.” One of Alpha Squad notes.

“What the hell was that?!” Blue Two yells.

The man turns to the Lieutenant. “The other guys brought an air-to-ground drone with ‘em. Got enough firepower to level this place three times over.”

Eyes scanning the sky, the IFF system automatically marks the airborne drone’s location with a green, supporting role square. Slowly orbiting the area of operations at altitude, the actual shape was a mere dot against a massive starfield.

“Breaking out the big guns…” Blue Two murmurs. “I should’ve joined the Marines… You guys got so much cool shit to work with.”

Moving next to him Master Sergeant Ling speaks up. “Bad time to be questioning your loyalty Keys. “

Blue Two gives a sarcastic expression. “Listen man if we could get our hands on some more epic hardware I’d be happy. Fuck actually, I’m putting that in as a Christmas gift.”

The rest of Blue Team ignores him as they stand, sprinting over to join the rest of the force.

Helmets sealed, the smoke and heat of the fires are barely noticeable. Focus put squarely on the running urban firefight; Alpha Squad anchors the integrated spear head.

“Cover me!” The squad’s machine gunner orders as her weapon funnels its final rounds on target.

Removing the empty box magazine the marine carefully grabs a spare from her pack, slamming a fresh belt into the chamber. A hundred fifty rounds of caseless cartridges are loaded, the chattering of suppressive fire returning as the Marines push forward on the primary launch control center.

Twenty meters ahead, the bogged down advance is spearheaded by the M.U.L.E. unit. The roar of the autocannon sprays down defender strongholds, hostile cover shredded as Alpha Squad clears the flanks. Nestled behind a half destroyed administrative office Blue Team takes stock.

“So…” Lieutenant Keys begins. “Any thoughts on recruiting the final squad member?”

“I did not have much time to look over the list.” Ling admits as a burst of incoming fire snaps past the wall.

“Me neither.” Mercier adds.

“Oh come on.” The Lieutenant frowns with disappointment. “You know Admiral Tucker slaved over that list right? It literally has every single medic that’s currently serving in Orbit. Least we could do is give it a serious look.”

“I will do that after this.” Ling waves. “And you said every medic?”

The Lieutenant nods. “Down to the retirees, he even included Grandma fucking Yao from back in the N.C.I.S. days.”

Master Sergeant Ling narrows his eyes as a member of Alpha Team sprints past them. “No way we can recruit her. Too old.” 

“Her twin sister though… she might be on board for something like this.”

“她妹妹 is not a medic…” Ling groans. “And she is so old too.”

“But she was the badass in orbit before you came along.” Keys lightly taps the man’s shoulder as he peaks around the corner.

 Corporal Mercier speaks up. “I also heard she is an asshole.”

“That too.” Lieutenant Keys agrees as he pulls back. “I met her once during O.C.S. She’s a real fucking bitch.”

Ling stops the conversation with a raised finger. “Sergeant O’Riley could be a good member for a medic.”

“Fuck that guy.” Keys immediately shoots down as he remembers the bright-eyed face of the man. “No way. I’ve performed surgery better than him.”

“I agree, he is also an asshole.” Mercier adds.

Over the night air an explosion rocks the facility, the other half of the operation calling down support fire on their advance.

Lieutenant Keys waits a moment for the noise to subsite. “Alright so we gotta get a medic who's not only a good medic but also not an ass?”

“That is impossible.” Ling concludes. “Unless we want to try and poach nationals?” 

“Bad idea dude.” Keys grasps. “Last time someone tried to do that they got Corporal Mercier… no offense.”

“It is, a good point.” The woman agrees. “I am an ‘asshole.’”

 Lieutenant Keys shimmers back. “You said that Corporal, not me.”

The communication line opens up, a member of Alpha Team yelling into the channel. “GRENADE OUT!”

Lobbed between buildings, the fragmentation grenade detonates a short two seconds later.

“You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a good medic who wasn’t just a straight up dick.” Keys concludes. “I guess that much pressure breaks people.”

Master Sergeant Ling mulls over his own memory. “Then we are stuck. No medic in a good mind would actually want to join us in the first place, we do too much 坏事.”

“Alright so then we need a medic who’s competent, isn’t an asshole, and crazy enough to join up with a suicidal Task Force.” Lieutenant Keys frowns. “Admiral Tucker could probably name like three dudes who fit that batch.”

They’re interrupted by the form of Alpha Leader sprinting towards their line of cover, the crunch of dirt on approach growing louder as she slides behind the wall. “Hey you assholes want to actually help us out?!”

“This is your job.” Blue One curiously replies. “Why would we need to help?”

There’s a pause as the M.U.L.E. thunders out a burst of two rounds, adjusting its turret as the minigun roars out a line of tracers against fleeing targets.

Blue Two speaks up after a few seconds of deafness. “Yeah you guys brought along a walking tank. It’s not like we can do anything more than what you’re already doing.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Blue Squad exchange curious glances between each other before they all answer simultaneously. “Nope.”

Gunfire ebbs, Alpha Team holding their position as the final remnants of hostile troops move to reinforce their hold out.

“They’re fortifying up the Launch Control Center.” One of Alpha Squad notes as they point towards a tower of concrete. “We’re gonna have to breach and clear the place.”

“Useless pieces of shit.” Alpha Leader takes a moment to scowl at the three before returning to her own squad. “Copy that Alpha Ten. Squad, have the M.U.L.E. cover our approach and we’ll push in standard form. I want Five to take point on the assault. Two and Nine take up our rear. We gotta keep up the tempo here!”

The silent acknowledgements arrive on heads up displays, the Squad Lead turning back to dead weight. “Would you like to join us?”

There’s a short silence as Blue Squad stares at her. “Sure.”

It was a bad place to fortify.

The control center offered no sightlines against the approaching force from its rear flank. Concrete structure too thick to shoot through and architecture too poorly maintained to defend from. Uncontested, the two squads move in.

Both Lieutenant Keys and Alpha Team’s Engineer stop a few meters away from the brutalist construct, taking pause as they simultaneously execute combat software.

Construction data flows through displays, both of them watching as the structure is scanned and possible layouts identified. Three floors, with the third equipped with a wide glass observation deck facing to the central launch site. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Keys asks carefully to the man next to him.

“Third floor breach?” Alpha’s Engineer responds. “The observation glass should be vulnerable to a standard breaching charge.”

“Fucking seriously? You’d actually try and enter through an angled observation deck?” Lieutenant Keys changes the communication channel to his own squad. “Ling, I think we could breach from the third-floor in. We could take ‘em by surprise if we come from both directions.”

A light bout of fear comes before the reply. “Ok Keys, I will relay to Alpha Leader.”

There’s a short pause, the voice of the woman broadcast to them in response.

“We didn’t bring any rappelling gear Blue Two.” Alpha Leader stops them. “Scrap that plan, nobody’s going to be climbing that sheer fucking face.”

Lieutenant Keys scoffs as he sets his overloaded pack onto the dusty ground. “You guys are really fucking unprepared, aren’t you? Jesus Christ I’d expect a S.E.A.L. Team of all people to bring that sort of shit on a raid like this.”

Removing a spool of thin, black string the Combat Engineer brings alongside it a wooden stick topped with a singular wad of material wrapped in a thin coating of bio plastic.

Alpha Team watches in morbid curiosity as the Combat Engineer begins unwrapping the device from its container. “What the fuck…”

“Ling you think you can throw this thing into the third story roof?” Keys motions over to his squad lead.

There’s a slight pause as the man jogs over, calculating the ballistics in his head as he looks up at the tower. “Maybe.”

“Is that a Master Sergeant Ling ‘maybe’ or a Chinese ‘maybe?’”

“Maybe.” The man replies, motioning for the device.

Around a single kilo in weight, the thing was shaped more like a world war era stick grenade than a modern engineering tool. With its plastic coating removed, the wad of material catches the firelight against the colored sheen of night vision. Master Sergeant Ling reaches a curious finger out, Lieutenant Keys stopping him with an armored hand.

“Careful dude that’s enough STRE-TEX glue to hold a destroyer together. You touch that you’re not getting it off for a month.”

“Oh…”  Ling blinks. “That makes sense.”

Carefully wrapping a spool of the string around the adhesive, Lieutenant Keys stands back as his squad leader readies himself.

“He’s going to try and throw that thing up there?” A member of Alpha Team asks Corporal Mercier.

Without pause she turns to face them, deadpan voice answering with a bored tone. “Oui.”

“That’s forty fucking feet. How the…”

The constrictive ceramic armor, fatigue from a rolling firefight, and lack of visual clarity from digital night vision is nothing more than an inconvenience. Master Sergeant Ling ramps up like an Olympic thrower, taking three long strides before letting loose the adhesive grenade like a rocket.

Disappearing into the night sky, the spool of wire whirls behind it, an impact sounding a few seconds later.

“Did it make it?” The Master Sergeant rolls his shoulder in slight discomfort.

“You did.” Corporal Mercier nods as she jogs over to her squad.

The Combat Engineer produces out an auto ascender pulley from within his bag, clamping the thing onto the line of string. “As the lightest you’re going up first Corporal. Toss it back down the wire once you’re done.”

“Yes sir.” The woman nods as she grips the handle, leaning back to test her relatively lightweight frame against the wire.

Carbon fiber woven into a solid strand; the black strip of cable was as sleek as it was comically thin.

“That doesn’t look like a climbing rope!” Alpha Leader observes.

“That’s cause it ain’t a climbing rope.” Keys replies. “It’s what we used to string up the Armstrong Lunar Elevator.”

An electrical whir sounds as the motors activate, Corporal Mercier shooting upwards along the slack wire.

From below they watch as she scrambles over the ledge, power ascender tool dropped back towards them as it swings down from the wire.

“You should go next.” Master Sergeant Ling insists. “If adhesive fails, I can always throw it back up.”

“I swear if this is an excuse…” 

“It is not.” The man assures.

Lieutenant Keys nods as he grabs the ascender, his weighted form rising up the sheer concrete wall.

The final man left catches the device as it’s sent down, strapping the rifle to his chest carrier as he readies himself with a nervous breath.

Looking up, he yells out to the rest of his squad. “Are you sure this will work?!” 

“Oh come on Ling!” Lieutenant Keys screams back. “It’s only three fucking stories dude!”

Corporal Mercier blinks from her prone position on the roof. “Is there a problem?”

“Ling’s afraid of heights, if you didn’t know.” Keys sighs, yelling out into the communication line with uncharacteristic authority. “MASTER SERGEANT, GET UP HERE!”

Glancing around the man tests the wire again. “Keys are you…”

“This normally works.” The Combat Engineer whispers to the Corporal, turning back as he leans over the edge. “Master Sergeant Ling Shu, as a Lieutenant of the Solar System Defense Force under Task Force Thirty-One, I am hereby issuing you a field demotion until you get your fucking ass up here!”

Memories return; a child falling from a heighted branch, the doctors and pain. His sisters surrounding him, staring down with pity and shock at the sight of blood.

Taking a gulp the man depresses the trigger, his form lunging upward as he ascends the wire. Hands held in a death grip; he flops himself onto the smooth concrete roof of the launch control building.

“Congratulations on your promotion Master Sergeant.” Lieutenant Keys quips as he drags the man from the ledge. “Seriously dude you gotta see a therapist about this heights thing.”

“I will find time.” Ling replies with a calming breath. “I will find time.”

A distant roar of an air-ground missile echoes through the operation area, explosive force sending up another flash of light along with a plume of dust and debris.

“Bravo and Charlie Team are encountering heavy resistance.” Corporal Mercier reports through the scope of her rifle. “Approximately, thirty hostiles are converging on their position from west.” A short pause echoes as the marksman adjusts her position on the roof. “Report: spot fifteen unknowns on approach to current position from westward, degree heading; zero-six-six. Range: five hundred meters.”

Optical lenses mounted within combat helmets focus as both Lieutenant and Master Sergeant squint, human vision augmented by applied technology.

Blue Leader relays on the command channel. “Advised Alpha Team this is Blue One, incoming force from west, bearing zero-six-six. Fifteen hostiles.”

“Copy that Blue Lead.” Alpha Leader replies. 

“Looks like the garrison’s comin’ in.” Keys observes from his perch. “Think we pissed them off enough?”

The snap of metal sounds as Corporal Mercier unfolds her weapon’s bipod, virtual spotter crunching telemetry data as the marksman identifies the high value target.

Screaming to his men the form is barely distinguishable against the emergency lighting, faceless like any other soldier around him.

“I have hostile squad lead.” Blue Three informs.

TARGET//UNKNOWN

WEAPON//GSW-AMR

RANGE//533 METERS

CLEARANCE//NEGATIVE

Ignoring the authorization, Blue Two blinks. “Engaging.”

A breath is taken; aim stabilized as the ballistic vector folds outward. Crosshairs aligned, trajectories finalized, a finger pulls upon crisp metal.

The blast of the rifle sends a cloud of dust flying, tracer in flight as Blue Team counts down the half second to impact.

A single nine-millimeter round decapitates the hostile squad, the form of its leader broken mid sprint as the body crumples onto darkened earth.

Manually rechambered, the next round is aimed with instinctual precision. 

“مسعف!!!” One of the squad members screams.

Rushing over, their medic is hit center mass by the follow-up shot, Blue Three watching as the rest plant themselves behind cover.

“Hostiles suppressed.” The marksman reports.

“Keep’em pinned for another two minutes please.” Lieutenant Keys requests.

“Understood.” Mercier replies.

Two paint cans are removed from within the Engineer’s backpack, the Lieutenant uncapping one as he pours forth a thick paste of rusted metal slime onto the roof of the building. 

“Alpha Team be advised, two minutes to breach.” Blue Lead reports.

“Copy that Blue Team be advised we’re moving to engage incoming hostiles. Hold for breach.”

“Fucking hell.” Keys answers crudely to his squad. “Every second we spend up here the more intel we lose down there.”

“Then we breach now.” Ling solves as he grips his rifle. “Do it Keys.”

Corporal Mercier stops. “A breach into building with only three of us?!”

The Lieutenant scoffs. “Oh we got this, Ling’s seen worse.” 

Capping up the first can the second one is deployed. Scooping forth a layer of clear gel the Engineer slathers a thin coat on top of the now drying paste.

“Do not tell me that you actually brought thermite here.” Master Sergeant Ling groans. 

“It’s like a basic fundamental pillar of modern combat engineering.” The Combat Engineer informs through a labored breath. “Thermite can burn through literally anything with the correct amount of application.”

“And you really need to use high explosive for this?” Ling points with a slight bit of disappointment.

“Of course.” Holding the brick of C4 the Combat Engineer tilts his helmeted head. “Can you guess what’s another pillar of combat engineering?”

“I have never known you to not carry high explosives. 那是你的一部分.”

Lacking objection, the Lieutenant finishes his work, stepping back as he admires his two-meter-wide circle of thermite paste.

“Breach ready.” The man informs.

Behind them a firefight erupts, Alpha Team engaging the oncoming counter assault. Rifle fire mixes with the roar of heavy cannon rounds, the squad on the roof ducking slightly as a few stray rounds pass overhead. 

Master Sergeant Ling turns to his compatriot as he takes a generous stride away from the circle of thermite. “Please do not blow us up.”

Snapping the brick of plastic explosives in half, the Engineer chuckles. “Trust me Ling, I know what I’m doing.”

Magnesium match lit; the Lieutenant takes a pause as the flame catches. “Actually, we might want to take a few steps back for this.”

Like a new sun the patch of thermite burns with enough light to dim the helmet’s optical sensors. The heat however, is barely felt.

“It’s thermal gel.” Lieutenant Keys explains as he instinctively covers his armored faceplate. “Keeps all the energy focused on a surface for cutting power. Helps shipbreakers salvage old spaceships in orbit.”

An awkward silence permeates as the squad of three watch the deconstruction in silence, the scent of burning metallics matched with the distant drone of automatic weapons fire. 

The view of the combat area from their perch up on the launch control tower was incredible. Information gathered within the context of modern warfare was presented to a state of overload. IFF systems integrated with combat directional software, mapping programs written in sync with targeting identifiers, combined with hundreds of other systems the chaos of combat was derived into the simple forms of command and control.

“I do not think I could ever do this.” Master Sergeant Ling murmurs to the Lieutenant. “Too much action, too much running.”

“Squad Lead of Kaiju Squad says this is too much action.” Keys scoffs. “But yeah I’d much rather be in orbit doing this than ground pounding. This has so much more bullshit than it should have.”

Beneath them the structure falters, an entire circle of concrete roof collapsing into the main control center. Dust and debris mix with the screams of crushed men, the Combat Engineer casually tossing in a half brick of plastic explosive.

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!” The man announces over the general channel as he clacks the detonator.

Concussive force blasts out the observation windows, debris and shrapnel cleaving themselves into concrete walls.

Blue One is the point man, leaping the three meters onto the heated surface as he rolls into position. Following closely behind him Blue Three clears his flank with a sidearm, Blue Two the last in the building.

The room was completely obliterated, the few unlucky personnel within barely identifiable from shattered organic components. Stations at waist height break up the debris, the launch control computers broken irreparably.

“Room clear.” Blue One reports as he moves towards the staircase, weapon readied.

Leading downwards, the first defender climbing up for a counter assault is gunned down without hesitation.

“Hostiles on staircase.” The man reports.

Firing in full automatic, the spray of rifle rounds is enough to drain the magazine in less than three seconds, the Marine taking a knee behind a broken console. “Reloading!”

The gap in fire is exploited, voices down the stairway reacting as the march of footsteps approaches their position.

“Give me ten seconds!” Blue Two yells as he fiddles with a shaped half-brick of plastic explosive. 

Bracing her anti-material rifle against an overturned table, Blue Three aims right at the staircase entrance, taking a deep breath as the shadowed forms reach the apex of their climb.  

The roar of high caliber rounds is enough to trigger the safety dampeners within combat helmets, white hot noise compounded tenfold through the confined space. Concrete cover is shredded, dust and debris exploding from impact as the counterattack is repelled from pure intimidation.

Cycling the weapon’s bolt Blue Two adjusts her angle downward, the next round sent through the wall echoing screams and the brutal sound of tearing bone.

“Fire your weapon in burst.” Corporal Mercier advises the Master Sergeant.

“Ok!” The man replies as he charges a fresh magazine into the rifle.

Putting an armored glove on his back the Combat Engineer motions forward. “You still remember how to do this?!”

“I think.” The Orbital Marine nods. 

Training takes over, instincts of ground warfare perpetuated by fresh trainees returning fast through racing minds. Advancing under covering fire the pair moves in.

A hostile form peaks around the corner, Blue Two sending a four round burst that carves through the unarmored man.

“Fire in the hole!” Blue Two bites as he slides behind the entry point.

A tiny ball of plastic explosives wrapped with detonator cord is chucked down the hall, the Combat Engineer waiting for panicked voices before activating the device.

Force not enough to outright kill, but brutal enough that the entire room reels back from raw power, ears bleeding and eyes blinded.

“BREACH!” Blue One orders as he slides down the staircase alone.

Eight hostile forms are identified in the room direct right of the stairs, six at immediate front. Blue One’s rifle roars as the barely controlled spray annihilates four, the two remaining targets shortly spared as the weapon coughs out its final round.

One of the soldiers barely has time to react as the bulky form of Blue One sprints at him full speed, the Marine sliding underneath the Defender’s assault rifle as an armored hand shatters the man’s windpipe.

A sheathed handgun is spotted on the crumpling figure’s waist, Blue One grabbing the weapon as he turns to his next target.

Rifle raised the defender’s burst of fire is aimed directly at the Marine, rounds catching air as the shape rolls beneath the stream of lead. Slapping aside the rifle Blue One jams the handgun directly beneath his target’s jaw, a single shot executing the man.

Behind Blue One both the Combat Engineer and Marksman set down suppressing fire on the staircase, the entry point locked with a flurry of rounds.

“Contacts, on the stairs.” Blue Three reports.

Without pause Blue One joins them, diving down the slick, blood-soaked steps as his squad mates kneel to reload.

A defender peaks around the corner, his sub machine gun ripped from his grasp by armored hands as the Marine sends five rounds directly into center mass. A clenched fist to the unhelmeted head takes the man down, the newly acquired weapon turning against hostile force.

On the first floor a close quarters firefight erupts, Blue One sliding past the visual range of his squad mates as he slides into the room.

Lieutenant Keys groans. “Fuck not again…” 

Slipping down the stairs the pair make haste, the screams of men and the chattering of gunfire echoing through cold concrete halls.

It takes fifteen seconds for them to clamber their way through, the heavy weight of Keys’ pack along with the clumsy rifle of Mercier demands grave care on steps littered with bodies and debris.

Weapons raised in arrival, the two stop at the scene.

Painted with carnage, the forms of a dozen neutralized hostiles cover the ground. Knocked over tables repurposed for cover are broken with explosive force, the surrounding walls riddled with bullet holes and blood. Unidentifiable bodies were splayed in different states of death, a chaotic mixture of stab and gunshot wounds raked across the scattered remains.

At the far end of the administration room Blue One rips his knife out of the final defender’s neck, shoving the limp body onto the floor. For a moment the Marine reacts to the incoming pair, blade at the ready before relaxing at familiar uniforms.

“Clear.” Blue One reports with a strained voice.

Below him the figure gurgles out muddled words, life ended as the Marine caves in the man’s head with a single stomp.

“You two…” Catching his breath, Master Sergeant Ling tries to find the correct word. “智慧聚会...”

“Secure intel.” Keys crudely translates as he notes the server infrastructure at the far end of the room. “Got it.”

 Corporal Mercier blinks in shock at the sight. “Putain merde…”

“Don’t worry you’ll get used to this sort of thing with Ling around.” Keys taps her shoulder as he jogs over towards a server rack. “Where’d you get the knife by the way?”

“Him.” The Man points at the body snapped over a table as he doubles over. “操... 我需要多锻炼.”

Transceiver removed from his pocket the man finds an input slot, plugging in the device as he reports on the command channel. “Checkmate this is Blue Two, confirm electronic entry.”

“Copy that Blue Two, beginning download sequence.” Checkmate replies hastily, his voice fading through interference. “Advi….ed… con…, peat…  cau…”

“Say again Checkmate.” Blue Two requests to static. “Say again.”

The response is blanketed by noise, the Combat Engineer gritting his teeth. “Fuck.”

“What is the problem?” Master Sergeant Ling asks as he begins picking through hostile remains.

Lieutenant Keys slaps his helmet as the connection drops again. “Negative contact with Checkmate. FUCK.”

“What does it mean?” Corporal Mercier follows up. 

“Means we got no way to get intel out.” Keys informs. “Which means we’re fucked unless we want to do a direct transfer to a hard drive.”

“You brought a hard drive?”

“I always bring a hard drive.” The Combat Engineer pauses. “But doing a direct server transfer’s going to take time we don’t have, and someone’s going to need to babysit this fucking thing while it’s at it.”

The Master Sergeant activates his radio. “Alpha Leader this is Blue One, we have completed breach and need assistance in building.”

Tactical link severed; the squad is completely cut from the rest of the operation.

“NOW of ALL times!” Keys yells through his helmet.

“Any unit, please copy.” Blue One transmits to the black.

In echoing silence the Corporal speaks up. “This is bad.”

“Very bad.” Lieutenant Keys adds. 

“I would disagree actually.” Within the squad channel a new voice arrives, smooth with a near artificial undertone, familiar to one. “Given the clandestine nature of this intelligence gathering operation, I took the liberty of keeping specific, sensitive data out of the hands of your compatriots.”

“T.A.C.?!” Lieutenant Keys answers with surprise.

A confused glance is given between squad members, the Master Sergeant replying. “Who is this?!”

“Good to know that your memory is still functional Lieutenant.” T.A.C. replies with a hint of sarcasm. “To the rest of you, my name is T.A.C., it is a pleasure to finally meet all of you. Admiral Tucker has assigned me to your Operation as its electronic warfare specialist and intelligence officer.”

“This was not in our briefing.” Master Sergeant Ling immediately notes.

“I wouldn’t put it up to the Admiral to openly admit the inclusion of a non-combatant entity within what could be classified as a ‘black operation.’” T.A.C. explains with a bored note.

“This was his ‘surprise.’” Keys realizes with disappointment. “So what the fuck were you doing this whole time T.A.C.?!”

“Standard digital infiltration of national defense systems. I estimate three more hours before coalition forces are able to mount a sizable counterattack to this current raid.” T.A.C. shrugs within the communication line. “But at current I am in the process of downloading all available digital data stored within the central server at this facility, via your transmission vector of course. Transfer time will take thirty minutes.”

“That is fast.” Corporal Mercier notes.

“Data compression is a technology that is currently seeing great improvement with the advent of interplanetary communications. Note: this transfer is reaping the benefits of a new source encoding theory published in the University of California Los Angeles.” T.A.C. informs. “However, there is still physical data within this facility that needs to be recovered. I recommend you attempt to secure paper intelligence located within bunker room four.”

“What the fuck’s Bunker Room Four?” Keys glances to his squad.

“To the north east corner of your current location is a one point seven two-meter-wide storage unit disguising an entrance to a network of bunkers beneath this launch complex.” T.A.C. instructs. “These were built during the early 1990s and expanded further in the late 2020s when this location was still the central facility for ballistic missile development. According to architectural plans, this system is now used as a network of fallout shelters in case of an attack. It doubles as a location to store sensitive documentation.”

“Can we trust him Keys?” Master Sergeant Ling asks his squad mate.

“This is the guy who turned off my suit’s life support system to get a hack done.” Keys replies.

T.A.C. sighs. “It was a necessary procedure to accomplish mission objectives. Amendment: Lieutenant Keys’ risk of suffocation was extraordinarily low due to having nearby deployed squad mates to assist in the case of an asphyxiation event. Such an act was an acceptable alternative to the preemptive detonation of the satellite weapon.”

Lieutenant Keys takes a minute to unravel the words. “Still.”

“Admiral Tucker has given me authorization to intervene within this operation, and despite your previous dispositions Lieutenant I am currently your optimal avenue for mission completion.”

There’s a long pause, Keys sighing as he laces his reply with sarcasm. “Fucking electronic warfare officers.” 

“T.A.C. is an asshole.” Mercier adds.

“If that is your initial impression of me Corporal, I will take that into consideration.” The voice replies. “Either way, I have marked the bunker entrance on your heads-up display.”

A red form highlights, eyes drawn towards the solid hunk of metal.

Carefully approaching the dull steel cabinet, Lieutenant Keys stops as he notices the padlock. “It’s locked.”

The Master Sergeant strolls over, the butt of his rifle aimed against the small device.

T.A.C. interrupts unceremoniously. “The code is one-one-one-two.”

Ling hesitates as he watches the Lieutenant input the code. “Really?”

With a click the lock opens.

“Fucking classic.” Keys steps back as he opens the door, rifle at the ready as he peers down into the entrance.

Ancient lights hang from the walls as they illuminate downwards, the tight stairs leading towards a distant hallway.

Blue One pauses. “This is a bad place to get into a firefight.”

Blue Three nods. “I agree.”

“There are currently two hostiles in this sector of the bunker system.” T.A.C. reports. “Located within Bunker Room Four.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have gained access to this facility’s internal security system with the applied passcode of one-one-one-three. All hardware is interlinked, and therefore a single vulnerability within one terminal allows for root access from any location. Interesting methodology of system security design, really.” 

Blue Two coughs, reorienting the squad. “Well, we better hurry, those two are probably gonna to burn every last piece of paper on the site if we don’t stop them.”

The overwhelming scent of natural petroleum fills the halls, figures ripping through files and pouring gasoline as suddenly three Marines step through the open door.

//CAUTION: FLAMMABLE ENVIRONMENT

Blue One sprints towards the first soldier, diving down as he throws the man’s legs from under him. Continuing forth to the second man the Marine carves his newly acquired blade straight through the target’s neck.

Behind him the fallen form scrambles up, an armored boot from Blue Three catching his face as the force knocks him back onto the ground. Blue Two follows up with the butt of his rifle, both of the marines beating the disarmed soldier like bullies in a school yard.

Blue One returns a second later, jamming his knife into the base of the man’s skull.

Lieutenant Keys takes a moment to catch his breath, his suit’s systems filtering out the fumes from within the enclosed space. “Alright T.A.C. what am I looking for?”

File cabinets make rows that cover walls, the entire room filled to the brim with thousands upon thousands of physical documents.

“As much intact data as possible.” The thing answers.

“Thanks, very specific answer there.” 

“It is recommended that you sample at least all cabinets once.” T.A.C. extrapolates.

“Like a Spain restaurants.” Ling notes.

“Ok so sample intel like we’re at a restaurant now?” Lieutenant Keys jabs as he sets his pack onto a filing cabinet. “Corporal Mercier you’re French what’s your sampling technique?”

“That is racist.” Mercier notes.

The Lieutenant doesn’t even pause as he composes a reply. “What did the Euro Chairman say about Americans again?”

Mercier blinks. “He is not being reelected next term.”

“Fair enough.”

The Engineer fishes out the machine from the very bottom of his pack, folding it outward onto the flat surface. A paper feeder assembly leads directly into the central scanner, the output tray removed for compactness. A digital scanner from another era, custom ordered for operations in arcane environments.

“I need both of you to start handing me as much fucking paper as possible.” Lieutenant Keys orders.

“Mercier, cover the door.” The Master Sergeant points, watching as the Corporal moves towards the entrance. “Keys how much is too much paper?”

Lieutenant Keys scoffs. “This is a Houthor Dynamics Mark 33 multi-range scanner with anti-jam technology, it does four hundred pages a minute and comes with a Google Cloud subscription. This thing will scan anything up to four-gauge paper no problem.” 

“Where did you get this?”

“I borrowed it from Task Force Seven’s Office.” Keys pauses. “Well…  it’s not exactly going back up so I guess I did technically steal it.”

T.A.C. speaks up as they take stock in the device. “Interestingly, it is also Bluetooth compatible. Expect communications downtime, I will be focusing bandwidth on uploading the outputted scans.”

“How’s your connection?” Keys asks. “I have a radio relay system; in case our signal down here isn't good enough for an upload.”

“Do not be concerned, I am piggybacking the Launch Complex’s internal wireless system via a satellite connection. If you are within the connection range of a router, I will be able to maintain communication.” T.A.C. eases, then stops.

Lieutenant Keys produces a carbon fiber wrapped crowbar from seemingly nowhere, jamming the closest file cabinet open with a brutal sound of ripping metal. “Alright come on Ling help me out with this.”

“You are lucky that I like paperwork.” The man grumbles. 

Paper stacks are removed and straightened, the machine loudly tearing through content as pages are scattered on the floor. Hundreds turn to thousands, sheets sorted and photographed with machine precision and raw rage.

“Return to cabinet designed Beta-4.” T.A.C. requests as they process the incoming scan data. “I require all intact intelligence within that location.”

“Find something interesting?” Keys dumps an entire stack of folders onto the floor, mopping up the half-spilled petroleum with technical documentation.

“Very. And Blue Two, please retrieve data from cabinet Foxtrot-2.”

“On it.” The Master Sergeant replies.

“Jesus Christ it’s 2075 who the fuck uses paper to do this shit?!” Lieutenant Keys complains as he dumps his pile into the feeder tray. “Half of this stuff is just communications text and logistics reports.”

“Any report you find can be helpful.” T.A.C. informs. “Most of the data is used to prevent any force from finding substantial tactical intelligence.”

“Fucking needle in a haystack.” The Engineer follows. 

“An accurate analogy.”

Through the communication channel an operation wide alert sounds, T.A.C. feeding the announcement through to the isolated squad. Speaking with authority, the Squad Leader’s tone is gripped with a cold report. “All units this is Charlie Team, we have green November. Repeat, green november.”

Keys takes a pause. “Guess they were right about the nuke.”

“Confirmed, it is a thirty-kiloton nuclear device.” T.A.C. extrapolates. “Possession of one is a direct violation of the U.N. Nuclear Disarmament Act, of which this country is a signee.”

Ling stops. “If someone sets that off, 我们完蛋了...”

“Not if we’re in here we’re not.” Keys snaps his fingers. “This place could probably eat an ICBM no problem.”

“Blue Two is correct.” T.A.C. agrees. “This facility wa…” There is a long silence as T.A.C. processes new information, a single point within folding away. “Advised: A member of the Vacuum Exiles division of the Orbital Security Company is currently held within the facility.”

“WHAT?!”

“A survivor of their attempted raid four weeks ago.” T.A.C. explains further. “I believe that information would be of great interest to you.”

“Hold on what?!” Lieutenant Keys drops the entire stack of files in his hands.

“Where is he located?” Master Sergeant Ling pressures.

“Two hundred meters north of this position, near the eastern quadrant of the bunker complex. The individual is Operator Nikolai Chernyshevsky… Secondary Orbital Security Group ranked as Senior Contractor. Served in the Solar System Defense Force from April 29th, 2063 to November 14th, 2070 as part of Task Force 11’s Gaea Team. He was the Team’s medic.” 

Silent words are exchanged between the squad, Corporal Mercier vocalizing their thoughts. “How is he still alive?”

“Some of the communications files indicate that they were intended to use him as leverage against the Orbital Security Company. Under United States Law the O.S.C. is not allowed to engage in combat actions within the confines of Earth’s atmospheric gravity well. If this information is leaked, it may result in the Company’s dissolution.”

Ling immediately reacts. “操 I have stocks in Orbital Security Company!”

“Investing in a dying Corporation that’s been on the decline for twenty years, doesn't sound like something Perez would let you do.” Keys notes.

“No it is…”  Ling attempts to translate. “Bet against growth… 买入期权.”

“A call option.” T.A.C. translates directly.

“Now that sounds a bit more accurate.” Keys corrects himself. “T.A.C. how much time do we have until starfall?”

“Thirty-four minutes.” T.A.C. answers.

“Other Operational Forces can’t get to him?” Keys asks.

“Operational Forces are currently attempting to disarm the nuclear device and are currently unavailable.” T.A.C. informs. “I would highly recommend continuing data collection. It is likely that diverting objectives to achieve a rescue would result in a failure to complete primary mission parameters.” 

“It’s the data here or the guy.” Lieutenant Keys derives. “Mr. Squad Lead it’s your call.”

Master Sergeant Shu Ling takes stock in the plan, the wisdom of warfare collecting in folding plans of combat objectives.

“I will not ask any of you to do this. It will be very dangerous and you may get hurt or die.”

Keys scoffs. “Count me in.”

“Corporal?”

“If you go, I will follow.”

Taking a deep breath, the man nods. “We go to rescue him then. He may know why the Company is here in the first place.”

Papers in hands are dumped onto the floor as weapons are grabbed, a pause as Corporal Mercier clears the hallway, giving a thumbs up to the waiting two behind her.

 T.A.C. speaks up. “Be advised: the containment area is currently under heavy guard due to its proximity to the central fallout bunker. Many hostile personnel are converging on that position.”

“Then it is going to be a rolling firefight.” Ling predicts with a grim smile. “Get ready, it is… ‘not going to be pretty.’”