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Vanguard Word Update
🕑 Added 2025-06-01 05:06:01 +0000 UTC2k
***
“A shower sounds nice. Any room for me?” Cadell asked, Samiha smirking at him.
“Tempting, but I don’t think we’d have enough time. There’s so much of me, and you’re only so small…”
“If you two are quite done,” Kurtis interrupted. “We’re on a schedule here, and we were warned to bring only what we needed. Let’s go, I’ll help you pack.”
-xXx-
Cadell marched along the torus with Kurtis on his left, Hunter on his right, with Samiha and Kazlu on the flanks, the five of them matching steps as they proceeded in formation. Around nine other squads stretched ahead of them, the company marching in a column along one edge of the torus, civilians crowding along the sides to get a look at the troopers. Confederate propaganda was quick to call the Alliance a ragtag band of outlaws and criminals, but the parade was worthy of a march down the ancient streets of Earth.
Cadell took one last pensive look at the bustling lights of the Hub, a knot tying his chest together. This could be the last time he’d see this place, at least for a while. The Hub was untouched by war, as was Cadell in a way, but after today that would all change.
He kept his nerves in check, of course. As team leader, he would be under the most scrutiny in the days to come, and their mission against the Confederates wouldn’t even proceed for some time yet.
The column turned off at a right angle towards the towering wall of the torus, a pair of sliding doors opening into the hull. The way led into a cramped corridor that was just barely able to accommodate three people standing side by side, the sound of marching boots echoing up the dingy tunnel. These access shafts led up to the offices and living units positioned deeper into the station, staircases and elevators spaced along the walls, but they also led towards the hangar decks and boarding airlocks, Cadell hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia, remembering the last time he’d been here, walking the other way.
They didn’t go towards the airlocks, however, the company proceeding down a left turn. After a while, they moved up to a pair of reinforced doors that would look more at home on an ancient castle, tall enough that even the Balokarids could walk through unhindered. They opened up like vault doors into a vast space, Cadell unable to get a look until it was finally his squad’s turn to move inside.
As they passed through the archway, Cadell couldn’t help but stare. He’d thought they would be going towards a hangar deck to take a shuttle out to the Endeavour, and while he’d been technically right, the deck was far different to what he’d expected.
Most hangar decks were half open floorspace, with airlocks taking up one side to allow ships access to space, but this wasn’t case. Here, the hangar deck was completely vaulted, at least a hundred meters across and half as deep, the floor littered with fat fuel pipes and automated carts filled with missile racks and cargo, ferrying from left to right as engineers scattered about. There were starships lined up furthest along the hangar, transports and gunships, and a few corvettes as well, each painted over in the blue, military colours of the Alliance.
A giant square of blue provided a backdrop to the vista, and through its flickering surface, Cadell could see the stars and gas clouds of the void. It wasn’t a window, that much he could tell, a fear gripping him as his spacewalk training reminded him he wasn’t wearing a pressure suit, a couple of the other troopers pointing and murmuring in surprise.
“No need for alarm, troopers,” one of the escorting officers called out. “That’s Balokarid shielding technology at its finest. You’re not gonna get vented into space, ‘less you get too close…”
“Hey, you ladies never told us your shields could do that,” Hunter muttered, gazing up at the hangar’s protective layer. Cadell thought he could see movement way out there, maybe a group of ships, but the dark backdrop made it too hard to be sure.
“That’s because they didn’t,” Kazlu explained. “Heard there was some research into making hardlight strong enough to hold an atmosphere, but weak enough to allow physical objects to pass through, but nobody found a way to make it work. That appears to have changed.”
“This wasn’t here when we first came aboard,” Kurtis pointed out. “Must have been a big project.”
“Our artisans work fast,” Samiha replied. “During the fight in the Nebula, we had to replace dozens of ships within a matter of days.
“So what happens if someone trips over while next to it?” Cadell asked.
“Pop goes the weasel,” Kurtis answered, Hunter giving him a worried look. “What? It’s true. I’d prefer the safety of an airlock, but I can see how a barrier like that’d be convenient for passing ships.”
As if in demonstration, one of the shapes framed by the stars bloomed, the profile of a dropship distinguishing. It wasn’t too unfamiliar from a close-air support gunship, with a bloated crew compartment at the back to house maybe two squads, and a thick cockpit on the nose with a pair of glass canopies for the pilots. A pair of wings were folded against its sloped roof, which could be extended to allow the starship to fly in an atmosphere if needed.
It glided up to the barrier at a cruising speed, the autocannons mounted on its chin piercing the electronic veil like it was a vertical layer of water. The hole it created in the hardlight bloomed around the profile of the transport, the barrier flickering in a way that disturbed Cadell, as if the light was about to break under strain and vent everyone in the hanger. That didn’t happen, the transport passing its entire bulk through without issue, its loud engines reverberating through the vaulted space.
Landing skids extended from the belly, the starship entering VTOL mode and landing with a steady bounce, positioning itself upon a pad between two other transports of the same design.
A landing ramp extended from the back, and a group of people walked out, two soldiers and an officer, judging by the white cap they wore. Cadell’s attention was drawn back to the company as officers began relaying orders, assigning certain squads to certain transports, the teams lugging their gear as they were ordered forward.
“Check it out, everyone,” Cadell said as his team waited to be called. “Looks like the military ain’t the only ones hirin’ Balokarids.”
He pointed across the hangar, where a group of engineers were clustered around one of the transports. Four of them were humans, while the other was a Balokarid. The female was opening up a panel on the side of the ship, gesturing inside it was the humans crowded around to look. The men looked like trainees, but it wasn’t surprising to see that it was the alien who seemed more familiar with the ship’s parts.
“Looks like we’re all becoming one big happy, interspecies family,” Hunter commented.
“Some more than others,” Kazlu chuckled, smirking over at Samiha. Either she’d been told or had figured out what Cadell and Samiha had been up to.
“Just need the Suvelians to step in and we’d be set,” Kurtis added. “Three species against one, and we’d win for sure.”
“The who?” Samiha asked. “Ah, you mean that alien race the UEC antogonised?”
“That’s one way of puttin’ it,” Cadell said. “Ever since they severed all contact, nobodies seen head or tail of them since, and that was, what, a hundred and fifty years ago? Who knows that they’re doin’ nowadays”
It was there turn to board the transport, one of the officers directing them towards the craft that had just landed. The officer with the cap intercepted them, Cadell glancing at the insignia on his prim uniform. He was a captain, Cadell ordering the others to snap to attention as he followed suit.
“At ease,” the officer said, waving his arm. He was a touch on the older side, his face creased with wrinkles here and there, giving him a weathered but experience appearance. His two guards hung back as he came forward, scrutinising them with a pair of bright green eyes. “My name is Captain Vonstock, and I’ve been looking forward to meeting you all. Your reputation as the first mixed-species squad proceeds you.”
He studied each of them in turn, holding a silence that teetered on becoming awkward. When his eyes turned to Cadell, he spoke up again.
“You must be Private Cadell, yes?”
“Yes, Sir,” Cadell said, straightening.
“I’ve heard about your exploits during your training. The good… and the bad. The same goes for all of you,” he added, glancing up at the aliens. “Not a lot of people had confidence in this program, myself included, especially when word got out that I would be taking you onto my ship for this operation. You might have passed the simulation, but you still failed it, and you’ve yet to be seasoned in actual battle. It need not be said that I am still sceptical of all of you.”
Cadell fought the urge to bite his lip. Was the Captain going to sideline them, maybe even go so far as to not let them board the transport?
“However,” Vonstock added. “Marek speaks very highly of you, and I’ve seen the technological expertise of the Balokarids firsthand, and the results were admirable. I trust that your combat prowess will be equally worthwhile?”
“It will, Sir,” Samiha replied, Kazlu echoing the statement.
“Good. Leave whatever dramas you might have at the door, there’s no space for it on my ship. Respect the chain of command, follow my orders to the letter, and maybe you’ll earn your place in my retinue. That sound like a fair deal to you?”
They agreed in unwavering unison, the Captain nodding his approval.
“One last thing. Private Cadell,” Vonstock added. “You are the squad lead of these four, are you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you’ll need the recognition that your position deserves. I am hereby promoting you to the rank of Corporal, and place the safety and responsibility of your squadmates officially under your care. The paperwork will have to come later, but for now, these are yours.”
The Captain came forward, pressing a pair of badges in Cadell’s hand. They were Corporal insignias, the chevron painted in a silver that reflected the light of the hangar. He blinked in shock, thanking the Captain as he replaced his current pins with the new ones.
“Let’s get ready to depart,” Vonstock said, turning and waving them forward. His tow guards followed suit, Cadell’s team hurrying after as they moved out onto the landing pads, Hunter giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder and congratulating him.
They followed the Captain to the back of the transport, the party mounting the landing ramp, the noises of machinery and engines tuning out as they filed into the crew compartment. Reinforced seats lined the left and right sides of the aisle, a portal leading up to the cockpit capping the far end.
The Captina and his guards buckled into the seats on the right, Cadell’s squad taking the ones on the left. Just like the bunks in the crew quarters, there were two seats that were oversized, more like couches then seats, complete with harnesses that looked like they could keep a bear tied down. They were obviously meant for the Balokairds, Cadell wondering if perhaps the Captain had Balokiard engineers of his own.
Cadell reached up to pull down his harness, stowing his gear and rifle in a slot to the left of his seat. Once all their gear was secured down, the Captain thumped the door of the cockpit.
“All set,” he called. “Take us out.”
