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Vanguard Word Update
🕑 Added 2025-06-15 06:42:19 +0000 UTC2696 words
***
“I’ve got him,” Hunter replied, Cadell searching the room. He was a little further back then the others, the design of his coilgun suited for longer ranges, the man flipping up the magnified sights. He took his moment, firing off a single shot, one that flew straight through the groove on the ballistic shield’s top, the gunner falling on his back with a hole in his helmet.
“Let’s move!” Cadell yelled, raising his hand to signal to the squad. “Sam, Kaz, keep pushing forward. Flush out the rest of them!”
The Balokarids anchored to the flanks of the room, drawing fire from the Confederates, their hard light shields absorbing hundreds of rounds as they concentrated on them. Cadell sent out a burst of rounds as he rushed to stay behind Samiha’s protective barrier, his rounds putting smoking holes in the chest of one of the Confederate soldiers, the velocity of the coilgun platform making it so that his armour mattered little.
He formed a line with Kurtis, the two following Samiha up the room in a line, taking turns as they moved from cover to cover. They had cleared four of the eight rows of consoles, about half the length of the control room, the dwindling Confederate numbers pulling back to the further sections as Kazlu and Hunter gained ground on the opposite side.
Cadell took up position behind one of the terminals, motioning for Kurtis to run. He braced his coilgun atop the desk, firing off a burst as Kurtis dashed past him, his bulky coilgun swinging from side to side.
The initial surprise of the presence of aliens was waning, and the Confederates concentrated their fire on them, Kazlu diving behind a nearby desk as her shield collapsed into its sheath. She shouted into her helmet as a round pinged off her shoulder plate, but her grip on her submachine gun held steady, the alien leaning out to send out a retaliatory burst.
Hunter scurried out from his place by the door, moving up the aisle as he dropped the spend magazine from his coilgun, slotting in a fresh one. Cadell was now the furthest away from the front, so he leapt into action, running along in a kneeling position so he wouldn’t draw attention.
As he rushed past the next row of consoles, he felt something pierce into the side of his suit, the sensation quickly followed by a hard force. He found himself falling to the floor with a heavy weight on his left, his coilgun falling form his gloves to hang from the sling tied to his vest.
There was a confederate soldier pinning him down, his bulky armour catching on the plates of Cadell’s own pressure suit. One of his gloves was pressing into Cadell’s helmet, while the other was driving into his ribs with a distinctly twisting motion. There was a glint of a knife blade down there, and the incision halted by the segmented plates tucked beneath the outer lining.
Cadell reach up and decked the soldier across the face. Splitting pain translated up from his hand, but the blow was enough to daze the Confederate for a moment, Cadell following up with a strike from his elbow. He reached for his rifle, intending to drive the bayonet through the man, but the Confederate was back on him, smashing his reflective visor against Cadell’s face in a brutal headbutt.
The blow caused both of them to stagger, but the Confederate recovered faster, pulling his knife free and driving it right back in again, aiming for a different section of the suit. The Confederate must have run out of ammo if he was resorting to his knife. Cadell’s training kicked in, and he pushed the knife arm down from above, seizing the man’s wrist and twisted, applying as much pressure as he could summon.
The knife dropped, Cadell pushing the Confederate off him. He got to his knees, taking the soldier’s helmet in his hands and slamming it against the console. His own, ragged breathing filled his helmet as he threw all his weight into another slam, his gloves slipping against the smooth design of the Confederate’s visor.
Before Cadell could react, the Confederate reached up to pick up a paperweight that had fallen nearby, and dashed it across his face. Cadell’s head rattled inside the hard lining of his helmet, dazing him. In an instant he felt an arm around his neck, and he was turned around, the elbow tucking into his neck and squeezing.
He was rolled to the ground, the Confederate lying beneath him as he held him in a savage headlock, Cadell flailing as he tried to strike out at his opponent. He caught movement as the Confederate picked up his knife from nearby, Cadell just able to grab his forearm and stop him from plunging it into his ribs.
The sharp point glinted as it poised inches from his suit, the baled wobbling as Cadell pulled back while the Confederate pushed forward. Cadell’s legs moved impotently as he tried to break free, but he couldn’t find purchase on the floor, and his free arm couldn’t reach up high enough to deter the soldier.
He could feel the strength in his arm fading, the pressure on his neck making him shorter of breath. He tried to call for help, but all that came out was a strained wheeze, and the microphone probably didn’t pick it up.
The Confederate had more leverage, and the knife pieces the suit, the soldier must know where the gaps in the late were, and why wouldn’t he? They were using very similar equipment, the only difference being the coilguns. This realisation gave him an idea, Cadell ignoring the growing slash the blade was making and fumbling for his rifle, which was still knotted to his sling.
He couldn’t angle it around to shoot the Confederate, not in this position. Instead, he ejected the magazine using the latch, then pushed it against the Confederate’s leg, which was beneath Cadell’s spine. The heat sinks along the barrel were white-hot after the sustained fire, and they melted through the padding like bricks of magma. If his helmet had been off, the stench of burning fabric would have filled his nose.
He could hear the Confederate snarl inside his helmet, the sound very faint, but there. Cadell pushed the sinks mercilessly deeper, feeling the weapon burn through the suit and touch the fleshy resistance of skin, only stopping until he felt a harder push back that could only be the femur.
The arm holding the knife relaxed, Cadell breaking free of the grip. He turned on a knee, fumbling for his sidearm as he watched the man writhe on the ground, two holes the size of fists burned through the padding on his thigh, each one trailing smoke. The white of bone was visible inside them. The man was howling beneath his visor, no longer faint but distinct, the sound making Cadell’s blood run cold.
Cadell levelled his pistol, and shot the man three times in the chest, the man’s agony subsiding after a sudden wrench of limbs. Gunfire was happening all around him, but Cadell took a second to compose himself, the last thirty seconds registering all at once.
“Kith’sla?” he heard in his ear, Samiha’s voice registering. “Cadell, where are you? Are you alright?”
“Y-Yeah,” he said, rubbing his neck as he replaced the ammo on his coilgun. “Yeah,” he repeated. “I’m here, I’m good. Let’s clear this room.”
The team had picked off the Confederates during his fight, only a few soldiers remaining. They were retreating up the steps leading to the upper level, one taking a shot to the leg as Kurtis aimed up at them from below, another Confederate soldier reaching over to grab his companion and haul him out of sight.
A few potshots were taken from the higher ground, but the railing didn’t provide a lot of concealment, the gunfire slowing to a halt as a soldier peaking out was shot through the chest, crumpling over the balcony with his arms dangling in the air. Cadell rallied the others by the base of the steps, his companions clustering around, their weapons turned upwards.
“Okay,” Cadell said, swallowing a lump in his throat. “There can’t be much more of em’ left. Anyone get a headcount?”
“Five retreated up there,” Kazlu informed him. Her tone was distinctly choral, as if she was speaking through a filter on top of the radio. Her drugs must be still keeping her alert. “But I hear more.”
“Alright,” he said, trusting her superior senses. “Kazlu, Samiha, you go up first, Hunter and I’ll follow, like we always practiced. Kurtis, you cover the door from here, make sure no reinforcements surprise us.”
“Got it, boss,” Kurtis said, replacing his drum magazine with a fresh one. He took a knee behind a console, training his weapon on the door.
“Let’s do it,” Cadell said, tapping Samiha on the side. She look down at him without turning her head, noticing his breathlessness, but she knew as well as he did this wasn’t the time for talking.
She and Kazlu mounted the steps, letting their shields recharge for a moment before reactivating them, their glow lighting the nearby area in shades of flickering teal. The grating steps buckled and clacked as the four of them climbed up the short flight, Hunter and Cadell taking up positions behind the aliens, leaning around the sides as they prepared to open fire.
“Not another goddamn step!” a voice shouted, Cadell giving the order to hold. From around Samiha’s flank, a number of consoles were lined up against a glass window, an astounding view of the shipyard spread before a canvas of stars. Before this vista stood a group of Confederate soldiers, some of them sporting wounds, but one among their number stood out. A taller man wearing an officer’s uniform and matching cap stood in their middle, and clutched in his gloved hand was a revolver, but it wasn’t aimed their way.
He was pressing the giant barrel into the temple of a woman, who he was stood behind, concealing as much of himself behind her as possible. She was gagged, her hands bound by a zip tie, her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail. She had bruises on her cheeks and a cut on her lip, the bags under her eyes giving her a desperate appearance. She wore a set of fatigues that suggested she was a technician or maybe a mechanic.
The woman wasn’t the only hostage. Three of the Confederate troopers were holding guns to the heads of other technicians, two men and another woman, their wounds suggesting the Confederates had been rough with them.
“Stay the fuck back!” the Confederate officer barked. “You aliens take another step on that floor, she dies!”
“Drop the fucking guns!” Cadell shouted, switching to his external speakers, his voice coming out filtered, a little robotic. He took aim, his companions following suit.
“We’ll kill every last one of them before that happens!” the officer yelled, thumbing the hammer on his handgun. The woman winced away, pleading into her gag as she squeezed her eyes shut.
“It’ll be alright, ma’am,” Cadell said, addressing her directly. “I’ll get you out of this.” They’d all been trained on how to deal with hostages, but Cadell wasn’t exactly an expert, and way she looked back at him suggested she didn’t believe a word.
“Will you now?” the officer scoffed. “’Cause those aliens aren’t very good listeners. Reign them in or I put a bullet in her skull.”
“Hold positions,” Cadell ordered, noting that Kazlu was trying to inch closer without making it obvious. She spared him a glance, but did as he said, holding her shield an inch above the deck.
“That’s better,” the officer said. “Seems even terrorists can show a bit of discipline, which is more than can be said for your Captain. I warned him, and now your people are going to start dying whether you start dealing with me or not.”
“It’s over, Sir,” Cadell said, noting the man’s badge identified him as a Seargent. We’ve got teams all over the station, but you probably knew that already. You’ve got no ships, and any escape pod that launches will be picked up instantly. Call your men off, enough people have died already.”
“Who the hell are you to lecture me about death, boy?” the officer snapped. “You think this uprising from the Outer Reaches has saved more lives than it’s taken? The Confederacy aims to uphold order in this Galaxy. We are not the dealers of death, you are.”
“Tell that to all my people who died on Dur’shala,” Samiha grumbled. “Your ‘peacekeeping’ Confederacy razed an entire colony to the ground.”
The officer glared up at the alien, his reaction to her presence a mix of anger and disgust. Cadell thought it interesting that had never seen that kind of response to an alien’s presence yet.
“You taught them to speak like us?” the officer asked. “Do you take orders from them too? If it’s referring to the planet I think it is, tell it that the planet was rightfully claimed by my coworker’s months prior to the discovery of its species. If anything, it was our colony that was invaded.”
Samiha braced her weapon, squaring her sights over his head. The officer ducked away, the woman he was holding yelping into her gag.
“Samiha, back off!” Cadell ordered, switching to the shared channel. “He’s tryin’ to goad you in, don’t let him.”
He grabbed at her arm, and she pulled away, keeping to her combat stance. She didn’t start shooting, but he could tell it was taking all her effort.
“What’s going on up there, boss?” Kurtis asked. “Need help?”
“No, stay out of sight, these people are on edge as it is. Call for backup. Now.”
Cadell returned his attention to the Confederates, his mind racing. Help wouldn’t get here for at least a couple minutes, and there was a chance bullets would start flying well before that happened.
“I need suggestions, guys,” Cadell said, still using the radio so he couldn’t be overheard. “Hunter you got a shot on him?”
“Yeah, but it’s a tough angle,” Hunter said. “He’s real close to that lady, if he pulls her the wrong way… it’s risky.”
“Kazlu? Samiha?”
“Five and a half meters between us and them,” Samiha said. “We might be able to rush them before they can react.”
“Might?” Cadell echoed.
“The alternative is to open fire, coordinate our targets. We have shields, we will be fine, but the hostages do not. One of them is going to get caught at the very least.”
“I can take a shot at the window behind them,” Hunter suggested. “Coilgun will rip through it no problem, the distraction could buy us a bit of time.”
“But those people aren’t wearing pressure suits!” Kazlu argued. “What if the whole thing comes down? They’ll all be sucked out into space, us included. We have to try something else. Kith’sla?”
Cadell wracked his brain for ideas, but nothing came up. He didn’t have enough time to consider alternatives, pausing a moment to collect himself.
“Samiha,” he began. “You said wanted to rush them? Explain.”
“Close in, cover the hostages with a shield each. Kazlu and I get in their ranks, confuse them, give you two a shot.”
“Think you’re fast enough?”
“You’ve seen us run. You tell me.”
“There’s only two shields, and four hostages,” Kazlu added. “Two of them will be exposed.”
“I don’t think we can do better than that,” Cadell said, the words making him feel disgusted at himself, but what choice did he have but to choose an option?
The officer was looking between them, and he pressed his weapon harder into the woman’s head. “I know that you’re talking to each other,” he growled. “your thinking of way to get at us, but you’re wasting your time. Even if you killed all of us, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got contingencies in place, so you better listen up or-”
