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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/LaughingTarget on 2024-12-27 19:29:23+00:00.
Lieutenant Dekragg yanked a terrified diplomat behind a metal crate as a blue plasma bolt crackled through the air centimeters from his head. Of all the missions he had been on over his career, this was only the second craziest. Nothing quite matched up to riding in the wreckage of an intentionally destroyed freighter to hide drop pods. Though, Dekragg thought, hijacking a Gulsak Pact VIP shuttle to infiltrate a prison mining outpost was coming close.
“I said get moving!” Dekragg shouted at the diplomat, trying to overcome the alarms blaring in the concrete hall. He, along with two dozen others, were arrested when the Gulsak Pact declared war on the Confederacy. What the Confederacy didn’t know was the now defunct Ji’Kaw People’s Republic was a vassal state of Gulsak. The Pact had been using the Ji’Kaw as a secret smuggling route to obtain Confederate technology. To say the Pact was furious when the Confederacy conquered the Ji’Kaw worlds and are showing excellent progress converting them into an actual democratic society would be an understatement.
The mission was classified as near suicide. Because of the long simmering cold conflict between the Pact and the Confederacy, few, if any, of the member races were present in each other’s territory. The moment Dekragg’s team exited the shuttle, it would be obvious they weren’t from around here.
The moment they left the VIP shuttle on the private rooftop pad of the prison, the team was in constant enemy contact. The only advantage Dekragg had was the prison guards were not equipped, trained or prepared to engage with a Confederacy Special Operations Command (CSOC) special forces raid. The team was equipped with the latest in Confederate anti-plasma armor and top of the line weaponry.
It didn’t mean it would be a simple task against a force of prison guards armed with force throwers and only a small armory designed to quell riots. Five highly trained CSOC soldiers would still have a difficult and dangerous battle going against thousands of enemies.
The raid initially went well. The guards were surprised and poorly organized. The team was able to navigate the prison barracks and extract the dignitaries. They were segregated from the general population and kept in conditions barely considered livable. They were held for ransom, not as guests.
Getting out again was proving to be the bigger challenge. The VIP shuttle was not only too small for extraction, it would either be disabled or heavily guarded. The only briefing Dekragg had was his extraction would be on the freight landing pads and it would be marked with the Human number 3. The whole operation smelled like a Confederacy Intelligence Services op. He hated it when CIS got involved since they always kept crucial information close to the vest.
“They’re coming from the other direction,” Specialist Saponas shouted. He was a member of the felid Verru race. His grey and white striped ears were exposed when he lost his helmet to a stray plasma bolt. Dekragg was happy with the team’s newest member. Saponas was a fresh graduate of the training program and this was his first mission. There weren’t any easy missions to get a new CSOC soldier prepared for the realities of the command. New recruits were walking patrols in predictable engagements one day and thrown into crazy nonsense like this the next. The only way you know if you had what it takes was if you got home alive.
“We can only hope Sergeant Fusili and the others were successful,” Dekragg shouted back as he blind fired his plasma rifle around the corner. A scream from behind the metal crate was the only indication his attack hit a guard.
Of all the various critical moments in the rescue operation, this was one of them. Dekragg and Saponas were flanking 25 frightened diplomats in front of a large metal doorway. The doors were currently locked shut and the only cover the group had was a pile of metal shipping containers recently delivered to the warehouse. Beyond the door was the freight pad where the expected extract was waiting.
“Is it normal to take this long?” Saponas yelled back over the diplomats as he took shots around his corner of the containers.
Dekragg shrugged. “No idea. Just trust in your team. That’s all we can do in this business.” Dekragg wished Lieutenant Gore still around and in command. The unflappable Human, had he not sacrificed himself to complete the mission to crack open Ji’Kaw’s planetary defense encirclement, would know what to do here. Dekragg felt like he was stumbling around in the dark when he got promoted to the officer ranks. He had a newfound respect for the officers he previously ridiculed as a Sergeant. Their job was not easy.
Dekragg became worried as time passed. More bolts sizzled by and impacted the thick metal doors with a splash. He had to throw back a pair of grenades tossed his direction. It would only be a matter of time before he and Saponas were overwhelmed.
After a few more shots buzzed by Dekragg, the squealing of metal pierced the air as the massive gears of the warehouse door began to move. The door started to crack open. Dekragg prayed it was Fusili and the others. If it was another guard patrol, then this would be the end of the line.
“Come on!” a feminine voice shouted over the scraping metal.
Dekragg allowed his head crest to flutter with happiness at the sound. Sergeant Fusili had come through and managed to get the door open.
While Fusili ushered the diplomats through the door, Dekragg and Saponas began their firing withdrawal. “Get that door closed,” Dekragg ordered after everyone exited the warehouse.
“Can’t,” Specialist Rohili replied. He was training his plasma rifle to one side and only allowed a nod in the direction of what he was speaking about. Dekragg’s eyes followed the direction his purple beak gestured toward and saw the control panel blasted out. “A stray shot hit it and I had to mess with the wiring to open the bay,” Rohili explained as he fired his plasma rifle at a guard’s head peeking out from behind a shuttle.
“Please tell me the other mission is a success,” Dekragg said.
“We got it done,” Specialist Dahili replied. She held a small tube with a button on the end in her lithe blue hand and pressed it. Heavy thuds impacted the air in the distance as a series of blue explosions lit up the base of a tall tower. The tower, the flight communication center, toppled over and crashed into a row of waiting freight ships.
“I really hope our ride wasn’t over there,” Dekragg grumbled as he snapped off another shot past the still screaming warehouse door.
“Already checked, LT,” Fusili replied back. “Best we can figure is its on this side of the tarmac.
“Come on then,” Dekragg said as he backed away from the warehouse. Dekragg knew FusRohDah, a name the late Lt. Gore gave the trio, would be diligent in their duties. “We need to find our ride and get off this rock.”
Dekragg wasn’t looking forward to finding the marking indicating their extract ship. The tarmac had dozens of rows of large ore freighters, each looking identical. It could take precious minutes, or even upwards of an hour, to find the marking.
“Found it!” Saponas pointed to a ship nestled in a line with a few others.
Dekragg was surprised Saponas identified the ship so quickly. That is, until he spied the marking. Instead of a subtle, small number on a landing gear, the ship had a towering Human number 3 painted onto the dark grey hull. The number was slanted to the left and was painted on in a brilliant white paint. A thin bright orange border ringed the number, adding to the visible contrast on the hull paint.
The team made their way across the open tarmac, providing covering fire to ensure the prison guards were suppressed behind their cover. As they did, the freighter pilot opened the front facing bay under the cockpit. A few stray incoming plasma bolts impacted on the shield the pilot had activated to cover the retreat. Dekragg briefly noticed the shield looked unusually weak, even for a bulk freighter.
Dekragg was the last up the opening ramp as he kept his weapon firing. While the ship’s shields would keep them safe, it wouldn’t stop the guards from storming inside the protective bubble and overwhelming the now trapped escapees. Only when the ramp started to close did Dekragg pull back and allow himself to review the interior.
The freighter had a cavernous interior. Bolted to the floor along the vessel’s center line were dozens of seats with straps. The walls had exposed wiring and pipes where the normal steel coverings had been removed. Dekragg couldn’t comprehend what the unusual array of wires and piping was for. The vessel had clearly been heavily modified.
“Lieutenant Dekragg,” a voice with a drawl that reminded Dekragg of Lt. Gore sounded over the ship’s speakers. “I’ll need your team to ensure everyone is strapped down and I’ll need you up here in the cockpit.”
Dekragg, impressed the Human aboard properly pronounced his full name, nodded to his perplexed team. “You heard the man,” Dekragg barked. Despite his order, he was equally confused by the statement.
Dekragg left his team to secure the frightened diplomats and took a small elevator up to the cockpit deck and entered the room.
Seated in the pilot’s seat was a Human. He turned his seat and Dekragg examined the man. He had cut brown hair on top of a face with sharp, angul...
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