The Kebechet was dispatched for a routine system patrol of Omicron Mu along the edges of the Orillion Ice Field, mostly to monitor outgoing traffic in to Minor in case of a 'no return' scenario, and prepare a casualty list of potential crew members of vessels that depart with the risk of never coming home. It's a very gloomy and depressing job, but it's what we have to face.
Though this became more than a standard patrol, as a Tokugawa had found its way past our rear defense and was attempting to plow its way through the Ice for Minor. As we moved to interdict, we picked up scans of bio-materials on board. Nomadic in nature. When the vessel was stopped, we demanded its Captain turn over those materials immediately. It refused, as we were by Andre Garcia in a bomber. Combat ensued.
I should've seen it coming.
Part way through the fight, Garcia turned his guns on to us and began to fire while we were engaged with the Tokugawa. I should've seen this situation coming sooner, especially with my recent associates. A vain attempt to make our deaths look like we fell during duty. The Tokugawa managed to escape, but Garcia was taken down. Once that annoyance was out of the way, we engaged in pursuit, all the way to Tohoku.
No surprise, we ran in to the Auxesians and Artificial Intelligence. A Cruiser, an Inquisitor. We began to pick up significant tachyon readings. So, we fired the EM-Disruptor.
Big surprise - They have an Osiris.
They call it the Andraste. CV-1, recent build. I didn't inquire as to where or how they got it, but I'm acting on the assumption it's a restored one from the Omicrons. I guess the reports weren't kidding about how dangerous and resourceful these people can be. Thankfully, it seems I've made an impression, and they didn't fire on us due to neutral standing.
Thankfully, I was on the bridge and not De.
That situation could've played out differently if he was there. The important part is we keep it secret until it can't be kept anymore. We're already under a spotlight, a little more dirt won't kill us.
As the AI pried me for answers, the Auxesians spotted a Nomad structure in the distance. So, we moved to investigate and encountered a Kusarian Komainu. I don't think it was a coincidence that a Tokugawa had gone through here if a Battlecruiser wasn't far off. After mopping up the installation, we inquired as to what the vessel was doing here. Seems since their little operation in the Independent worlds, infected traffic has picked up three-fold and isn't being opposed. What a waste.
As I told that Captain, I won't condemn someone who fights these damn things. The more guns, the better, but he noted Kusari's interest in the remains may be due to another attempt at reviving their research projects in to the K'Hara. If that's the case, then infected traffic is going to pick up even more, because those people didn't learn from the first time.
...
I don't think I have much time left before this all falls in on me. Just a few more days, right?
After today's events, we've decided to make an early departure on our Recon trip to the Omegas by piggybacking out with a Zoner transport in case of another attempt. The Order might claim to be able to make the hard decisions, but they wouldn't hit us in the presence of civilians.
We began our trip to the Omegas, system by system, eventually breaking off from the Zoner entirely and moving independently in to the Northern Omegas. During the journey, Engineering reported an unusual fluctuation in our navigational system and a modification to our star charts. This seemed unusual at first, but had been dismissed as an update for our trip.
We were wrong.
Moving through Omega-41, the intense radiation of the Neutron Star seemed to mask the tampering of our Jump Sequence system. Our vector was modified and main engine drive dropped to zero as we approached the Omega-47 anomaly. The presence of the pulsar seemed to be obstructing our own internal readouts, otherwise we would've noticed sooner.
Prior to our approach I had ordered an investigation of the Navigational Computer to note the changes. It seemed as though nothing was added, but something was removed. Inquiring further I had uncovered that the removed system was ordered by an individual who had locked the topic and encrypted it with six layers of security that even our Chief Engineer was having trouble breaching. Considering the system that was removed was well out of our way, we didn't bother.
This was our second mistake.
Mid-jump when systems began to drop, we found ourselves dragged out in to a thick anti-matter nebula near an unstable anomaly. Speculation from Navigation suggested a cross in the spatial continuation of both anomalies, but given the tampering, I had no doubt that it was sabotage. No surprise to myself - we were in an uncharted section of the Sector, at least by our records.
As we tracked some Tachyon Emissions through the anti-matter storm, we successfully found a break.
But we weren't where we should be.
Unknown territory with no chart to navigate, we were treading lightly. Our ECMs were powered up to make us appear as just a blip of Electromagnetic interference on sensors as we began moving on impulse throughout the unidentified sector. Remarkably, there were little signs of traffic but several signs of colonization, however we weren't risking the potential of the distant installations being controlled by hostiles, so we began to move for the largest solar object in view.
A gas giant.
Sensors began to pick up motion on approach and signs of an installation flying foreign signatures and scrambled IFF readings. Keeping our ECM online and movement to a minimal, we drifted to the rear of the planet out of view and made use of its volatile nature to keep off scanners. I called a break so we could figure out just where the hell we were and send probes in to the anti-matter storm to look for an alternative exit.
While we discussed speculation and examined past star charts, the probes relayed distorted data of wreckage and a Neutron Star deep within the Anti-matter storm. Given the position and composition of both, as well as the old Star chart we recovered from our databanks, the only logical conclusion was that we had somehow ended up dragged through the unstable anomaly in to Omega-58. Alien territory.
Thank god for ECMs.
Despite the distorted readings we were receiving, we managed to trace a point of origin of some tachyon emissions to another anomaly outside of the storm. With our fuel supply dwindling, we'd need to make the trip now or become stranded.
So I made a call.
Needing to drop our ECM to hit cruise speed, we did so and made a bee line for that anomaly. Pursuit began when we picked up some unknown contacts in civilian craft closing on our rear. We made the jump through the anomaly and found ourselves only slightly off course by several dozen kilometers. We had made it back to Omega-47 and pursuit had broken off. Our journey continued on towards Omega-49, but we remained on Yellow Alert in case of additional contact.
We aren't out of the woods yet.
I was right.
Damn it I wish I wasn't, but I was right.
We found our way to our destination and approached orbit of Canaria where Tachyon Emissions had increased six-fold. Cloaks. We weren't sure how many or why, but we had no other alternative but to follow procedure. So... We fired the EM Disruptor.
An Oder-Class Gunboat was located, flying a scrambled IFF.
Its Captain began to make threats and attempt to call us out for trespassing in Omega-58, but we kept up the guise of never knowing it existed. Despite this, the vessel moved in to engage. Given the No-Fire Zone of the system and the defense platforms of Nichols, the Oder retreated, and we were left with some mild and inappropriate-talking company. At the end, I had voiced my opinion of the Order enough, and given the circumstances of our support turning on us today, I'm sure more of the crew has agreed that what has to be done is right in order for us all to survive.
Humanity included.
So now as we sit anchored to a docking platform, I need to get a message out.
We've spent the past six hours drifting through the various Barrier Nebula outcroppings within Omega-49, conducting additional Tachyon sweeps for the Oder gunboat that had pursued us after we were waylayed by a saboteur. Talks among the crew about our current predicament, the attack made by our support and the saboteur in general have become prevalent in even the most common conversations.
Because of the rise in differing opinions and gravity of our isolated scenario, I've ordered that the armory be put on lock down and firearms be restricted to Senior staff. However there has been a significant shift in residential. It seems people are beginning to relocate to opposite quarters to surround themselves with people they trust or agree with.
They're picking sides.
Examining the conversations being had has revealed a growing wedge between the crew due to differing ideals about the recent attack made on our vessel and sabotage. Some believe what happened, and that the Order are attempting to remove a danger to their system of control, while the others believe this is a means of tricking them in to believing The Order is false. Subversion.
I wish it were something that simple.
Thankfully the smuggled caches were removed before we departed. All firearms are locked and secured by the senior staff. If any side gets any ideas, they won't have the tools to try it, but it's only a matter of time before they turn on us too. We're standing between them and their belief that their view of the scenario is right. Loyalists and The Betrayed, I've taken to calling them. I won't have a god damn firefight breaking out on my ship either way.
Commander's log, October the Fifteenth, supplemental.
An altercation broke out in the port side of the ship between seven individuals who have taken up occupancy on the starboard residential against three who had relocated to the opposite after a heated discussion developed in to physical assault on the lesser numbered supporters of The Betrayed. Two of them were sent to sick bay along with one from the Loyalists for minor injuries, as myself, De and Keamy split up the altercation with firearms.
Because of this, the bulk of the open Loyalist and Betrayed supporters are confined to their quarters, and communications are being locked down to Senior Staff until we can get our bearings and figure a way out of this scenario.
In addition, due to the decreasing stability on board, we have moved away from civilian traffic lanes and anchored ourselves on an Ice crystal in the Northern outcropping of the Barrier Nebula.
With this, I'm beginning to consider instituting Martial Law on board the ship, but with oppression comes resistance, and while my people might control the guns, we can't avoid sympathizers and we can't overcome numbers. I'd rather not start firing blindly in to crowds of my own people on narrow hallways, but if it comes down to it then we'll have no choice.
Curtis has voiced concerns about a potential attack occurring in our current scenario, and if that happens it'll be total anarchy on board. Despite being shot by our own people and nearly dying, he suggested we turn ourselves in on the pretenses that cooperation might lessen the sentence. Probably not, and with our fuel reserves nearing half, we wouldn't make the trip if we tried.
With the communications on lockdown, it'll be tough for our saboteur to keep contact with whomever is giving him the orders, but until then we remain vigilant.
I'll be dead before I see this ship lost to the people who built her.
Several days have gotten us to this point. I've violated regulations more times than I can count just over the last twenty-four hours. Myself and some associates have taken it upon ourselves to halt the progress of Saris' plan. Friend or not, treason means disloyalty, and if he can betray what we fight for then he can betray me as well.
Who is to say that we won't all end up as Prisoners of War? Who is to say they won't just use this as an opportunity to blast another ship? Christ, it's bad enough he trusts them, but even worse now that some of the others on board are taking to his idea. I've tried passively to convince him to go back and explain himself. I haven't even submitted a formal report yet, but given the fact comms are locked to senior staff means it's now or never. The passive approach just isn't working anymore. When I ordered the sabotage of the NaviCom, I did it in the hopes it'd convince him to turn back.
I wish he wasn't so damn stubborn.
Now I'm stuck handing out small arms under the table from the armory to the remaining people who support me. So far, six rifles and nine handguns have been distributed to the Loyalists. In a few days, if my message isn't heard, we're going to take the ship by force and arrest these traitorous bastards, bring them home for trial and all get medals for outstanding service, even in the face of insurmountable odds.
But I can't rely on one plan. No...
I have a final contingency installed. The remaining munitions I uncovered on board from the attempted smuggling run by those we had thrown off the ship were relocated to the engineering maintenance shaft, and given that our engines aren't running, they won't be found. I've wired them to a detonator. If... Our plan doesn't work, I'll destroy the Kebechet.
The starboard side residential deck of the Kebechet was undergoing some significant modifications as men and women alike began to move furniture in to the halls to erect makeshift cover and barriers, establishing a command post. Several of them were armored with basic equipment smuggled out of the armory, including rifles and handguns brandished at the ready.
On the opposite side in the port residential, the opposition were erecting similar defenses and brandishing makeshift weapons such as wrenches, pipes, spare parts and broken pieces of furniture, as well as kitchen cutlery. None of them were armed or armored, yet each were just as determined to survive as the next. The silence could only be described as the calm before the storm.
And that storm was going to be the deciding point.
Curtis De'Rosario had armed himself with a sidearm and slipped off the bridge away from the Senior staff to the starboard residential section, where he was greeted by two armed crewmen. They saluted as he passed in to the makeshift command center.
"We're running out of time." Curtis said to the other Loyalists as he walked through the halls. "Every minute we waste is another minute they gain, and now that the Order know whats happened, they'll know who to blame if we fail." Curtis stopped and spun to look at his loyal followers. "But we will not fail. We will show them no quarter. We will show them that treason is not tolerated, as they are not just betraying the Eye, but our species entirely."
Several of the crew members nodded and vocally agreed with the speech.
"We have done everything in our power to keep us alive and stop them from making the biggest mistake they could make. The Order does not forgive or forget those who cross it, and they not only intend to cross it but cross over with us in tow like baggage, but we won't lay down. We won't falter and we will not surrender our stance."
The agreements became louder.
"You've been given what I could provide to take back our home and continue our service to the Eye. We will march in to Ops and arrest the Commander by force. Monitoring the opposing side, they've begun to build defenses and create weapons from ordinary objects. They vastly outnumber us, but we've got the edge of guns and armor. We've got the support of the security staff and a momentary break in observation."
Curtis displayed a holographic projection of the Kebechet's floor plan from his datapad as his supporters gathered around.
"I will return to the bridge armed. Your objectives are to keep the traitors occupied in the port residential and prevent them from reaching the bridge. Robin, Elwood and Taiyamara will take their weapons to the bridge along the starboard path. Once they arrive, they will force Saris in to submission, in which I will draw my firearm and cordially place him under arrest. We will then take control of the vessel and enter Coalition space to refuel, and return the traitors to the Protectorate for trial, but do not hesitate to attack if they try. They aren't your comrades anymore."
Curtis lowered his datapad and disabled the display.
"We've got twelve hours before we move. Hopefully by then they'd have given up. If... The worst happens, I will set off the explosives in engineering and prevent the Kebechet from being able to move. The result will depressurize and potentially destroy the ship, but we will have died heroes. So let's get out there, and take back what's ours!"
The Loyalists cheered and raised their weapons, beginning to bustle about and make the final preparations for the impending battle.
Some might say the last twelve hours went by quicker than anyone could've anticipated. Others would say it was the longest twelve hours of their lives as the calm before the storm came to an end.
Everyone can agree that what proceeded the silent build up and consolidation of both factions was something no one could take back.
As instructed, the Loyalists made their move and crossed the threshold to the Port Side Residential section, armed up and ready. The makeshift barriers obstructing many of the halls consisted of turned over tables, stacked footlockers, torn panels and other pieces of furniture from mess halls and personal quarters alike. Some of the Betrayed had begun stripping metal from their rooms to make makeshift body armor for the impending attack, but they were caught off guard.
Like an organized light show at a concert, the Loyalists breached a barrier towards the rear of the Kebechet as a myriad of laser and ballistic fire erupted from their weapons in to the narrow corridors behind the blockade. Three people were caught in their line of fire and dropped like rocks. The others scattered for their makeshift cover positions, brandishing shields torn from the plated walls. Two men formed a wall with those panels and began to advance towards the gunfire, as three more people joined in behind them to close the hap on their well equipped attackers.
The fire continued for some time, eventually ceasing momentarily to allow a reload and cooldown time. These people weren't ready for extended combat, and didn't come as prepared as they thought. In those seconds, the shield wall closed the gap as a man leaped over, brandishing a metal pole. He struck one of the gunman across the face with a hefty thud. The woman on the left of the gunman raised her pistol and fired, putting down the man before he could follow up his assault with another blow.
The gunfire picked up again as the firing line moved back to build up a gap. The narrow halls of the Kebechet had become a battlefield of makeshift weapons and firearms alike. In the heat of it all, some were having difficulty recognizing friend from foe, and many instances of the term 'blue on blue' were called. Friendly fire. Injured people were rushed back to their respected makeshift command posts to be treated.
Shouts, smashing, gunfire, and alarms occupied the halls.
On the bridge, Commander Saris had ordered the ship be placed on Red Alert. His people were dying, and with the few supporters he had, he armed them and secured his position, slowly beginning to supply the Betrayed with small arms and armor so they could defend themselves, but the distance between the bridge to the armory, as well as the armory to the Port Side of the ship was long, and the Loyalists took every opportunity they had to arm themselves further. The internal feud aboard the Kebechet was devolving faster than they could defend themselves. Without the coordination of the Security staff, Saris and the Betrayed were relying on defensive strategy. Their opponents were better trained for this sort of combat. In any other circumstances, normal engineers and cargo workers wouldn't stand a chance.
But these weren't normal circumstances.
Seeing the battle losing ground, Saris took his pistol and joined a supply run in to the Port side. As they reached the armory and noted the bodies which surrounded it, they collected two crates of arms and armor and begun the process of moving them in to the battlefield to supply what supporters they had left. Saris swung his arm around every possible corner, expecting an ambush at any given moment. As they neared the barricade, the Helmsman tapped firmly against the metal table to signal they had arrived. The table folded inwards like a door as a woman pulled it back. "Get in!" She shouted, tugging the Commander through.
The scene was horrifying.
Men and women alike armed with makeshift blunt weaponry and kitchen utilities rushed to the crates to pick up firearms and dawn body armor for the next wave. Several people with gunshot wounds lined the floors, some of which were limp. They were goners. Casualties of their decisions.
Several rounds flew in to the crowd, impacting the walls and some body armor. Saris lowered his head and raised his pistol, returning fire. Hearing the shouts of the Loyalists recognizing gunfire and calling to retreat, Saris grunted and turned to leave with the Helmsman.
As the barricade closed behind them, they retraced their steps through the flashing and dark halls of the Kebechet, clearing corners. A man jumped from a maintenance closet with a blade and began to swing it frantically in the direction of Saris. The Helmsman dove on the man and attempted to wrestle him. A quick swing sent the Helmsman down, clutching his neck as Saris brought up his firearm and eliminated the attacker. The seasoned officer dropped to his knees and began to put pressure on the Helmsman's neck in a vain attempt to cease the bleeding. The Helmsman's eyes flickered as his life slowly came to an end.
Saris sighed exasperatedly. "God damn it." He shouted. He lowered his deceased comrade to the ground and carried on. As he reached the bridge, hands drenched in blood, he passed by the guards he had assembled to defend the most important part of the vessel. Curtis eyed the Commander as he walked in with a hint of disdain in his glare. The Commander shook his head, indicating that the Helmsman was gone.
Saris approached the console and began to send out messages, activating the distress beacon and monitoring vital systems. A loud explosion rocked the vessel as one of the antenna arrays dislodged its self. Alarms began to blare about a depressurizing room in the Port side of the vessel, that had been sealed to prevent further damage.
People were making use of grenades.
As Saris attempted to boost the transmission, he realized a grave problem with what just occurred. The explosion had taken their long range transmitter offline entirely.
"Sir, I sent out the general beacon." De'Rosario said.
Saris swiveled on the spot to face his comrade, giving him an agitated glare. "You what?" He said. "God damn it. It isn't calibrated. Now anyone and their grandmothers will know where we are!" Saris shouted. He turned back to the command console.
The halls had become skirmish points between the two rival factions of crew members on board. The current battle zone was the general mess hall, where men and women alike, now armed with guns from the armory and makeshift shields hid behind turned over tables, communicating in established codes amongst themselves. They shouted orders to one another, as one man would pop up from behind the kitchen counters and fire his rifle to draw the attention of the Loyalists away from an injured man, allowing time for his comrades to collect him. They dragged the man from the mess and back in to the halls.
The walls were scorched and tattered with blast marks and bullet holes from a variety of weapons. Occasionally a spot of blood could be found, sometimes accompanied by the body it originated from. Others were dragged back to their respected outposts. In the hours that had proceeded the initial fighting, The Betrayed had begun to push in to the middle of the ship to collect more objects for use as cover. Some would come out with crates of supplies, others with furniture and ammunition.
Another explosion rocked the vessel as another grenade was set off. This time - The starboard side. A small team of The Betrayed pushed in to Loyalist territory in a vain attempt to push them out. As the barricade was blown by the thrown explosive, so was another room, and with it - the long range sensors. The antenna dislodged its self from the hull of the Kebechet and drifted away as the door to the room sealed to prevent the halls from depressurizing. A woman peeped around the corner, firing a pistol wildly in to the Starboard residential, hoping she would hit something, and hit something she did.
The wall.
With her ammunition exhausted, the Loyalists moved up to the woman who was searching her comrades for additional rounds, as they had fallen in the fighting. Her breathing was heavy and erratic. Adrenaline rushed through her system like bullet trains on their way across the tracks. As the footsteps approached, she turned and gasped, crawling backwards. The three Loyalists began to beat her senselessly with their weapons, eventually silencing her with a single shot from a rifle. As the skirmish came to a close, both sides began to check on casualties.
In the port side residential, a communicator beeped on in the hands of the Chief Engineer.
"Status." Saris stated boldly.
The Engineer huffed and puffed, trying to catch his breath. "We got... We got some supplies from the storage and some tables from the mess halls. We lost four who chased the bastards back in to the starboard side. One wounded, and the doc' doesn't have his tools, so there ain't much he can do." He said.
Saris sighed. "Damn it... Keep me posted. Have key personnel fall back to the Bridge along with the wounded who can't be fixed but can live. I'm going to put up the hallway forcefields and lock 'em out."
"Aye aye, Commander." The Engineer said, ending the transmission.
Saris sat back in the command chair and sighed once again. "Can't believe its come to this. Damage reports?" He asked.
"Everyone is too busy fighting each other to submit them, but our sensors aren't responding anymore." Curtis noted from the Operations station. "Wait a minute - We've got a response. Pinging it with the pre-recorded message." He added.
"Which channel?" Saris asked.
"Your personal one, sir." Curtis answered.
The fighting continued for hours and hours as the message came in and distress beacon went off. One by one, members of the engineering and science staff worked their way in to the bridge carrying severely wounded members of The Betrayed. Curtis eyed each and every one of them with a hint of disdain. As they had entered, Saris typed in to his console. Outside the doors, Molecular shielding activated to prevent entry to both doors.
The men and women who had joined the Senior Staff on the bridge took up stations to monitor systems. Others took up guard positions and nursing positions of the injured. Saris walked around and examined the burden he had taken in to his safe haven, examining the wounded for any who might be too far gone to save later. As he made his rounds, the short range sensors began to flare up.
"Status?" Saris said, returning to his command chair.
"Sir, we've picked up a vessel on approach, CV-1 Classification. Osiris. We can't get a fix on its IFF, but its weapon signatures match that of The Order. It's one of ours!" The sensors operator said with some excitement.
"Visual on my monitor." Saris said.
The display fluttered as a transmission came in.
"Sorry sir, visuals aren't functional. We'll need to wait for it to be with in eye-viewing range." The sensors officer noted.
A transmission pinged the ship. "Order Recon Cruiser Kebechet, this is Tantalus of the ACV-Andraste... radioing in... are you there?" The man asked.
Saris smiled. "That's not the Order." He opened the relay. "This is Saris on the Kebechet. We read you Andraste. Proceed to our aft mooring collar." He replied, but the nature of the communications array had disrupted most of the message.
"We will move to your Aft Mooring Collar, hold tight and we'll get men in there." Tantalus noted over the comm.
An accordion bridge extended from the Kebechet out in to space, awaiting the arrival of the Osiris.
The Andraste had moved in to position and connected its docking collar to the bridge with a burst of bass echoing between the two vessels. Three squadrons under the command of Templar Keen awaited on the CV-1 as the narrow corridor between the vessels pressurized. Each armed with a myriad of Order and APM technology, as well as some specialized weapons developed by engineers of unknown origin. Each one tapped on their helmets to signify they were ready to cross as the airlock opened.
In pairs, the team crossed over the bridge in to the damaged and dying hull of the Kebechet, to be met with the scorched and battle-worn halls that flashed red as alarms blared.
"Crossover complete. Hoplite's one and two clear." One of the marines spoke in to his radio, as the Purple Crest shined on his right arm.
They began to scan the corridors for signs of life or movement. As one, they all began to push forward towards the bridge. An occasional body filled the hall that they stepped over, keeping their weapons brandished and at the ready. It was eerily silent.
Suddenly, an array of laser fire came from the side corridors. One of the Marines stepped back, taking a shot to his arm plating and shaking it off, stating it stung. The marines put their backs to the corners of each corridor, aiming down the opposite sides. They dispatched the ambush attempt with several rounds. The surviving Loyalists fled from the area.
The team continued to push forward out of the engineering section.
"I've got heat signatures in the maintenance pipes. Conduits are overheating." One of the marines noted, scanning the walls with his visor.
They pressed on in to the staircase, ascending along the port side of the vessel. Reaching the midden deck, they were met with more gunfire between The Loyalists and Betrayed. Keen gestured forward, signaling for the team to move in and support The Betrayed. The marines slowly entered the area, only they were seconds too late. The Betrayed who were fighting had fallen, and the Loyalists were gaining ground.
The marines dropped behind cover and began to fire, engaging the Loyalists with precision. A grenade rolled down the hall between two Auxesians. One of which dived back behind the wall. As it detonated and his comrade fell, the Auxesian rounded the corner and dispatched the approaching Loyalists with two shots, killing both. The remainder of his squadron moved in and examined their fallen comrade. With a hand gesture across the neck, he was identified as Killed in Action.
From there, the Marines pressed on further in to the civil war on board the Kebechet, determined to cross the expanse of No Man's Land and survive the onslaught. They were severely outnumbered and outgunned, but the advantage of tactical superiority, armor and training was prevalent in their efforts. However, one thing they didn't account for was a leak in their contact with the bridge.
Curtis De'Rosario was feeding the Loyalists their movement information and readying what was left of his supporters for an assault on the bridge, determined to stop this madness with one final attempt.
The Auxesians spent several hours working their way through the narrow halls of the Kebechet towards the bridge, helping resistance where they found it, only to end up backtracked to help one of their own. The situation was dire, as the Loyalists knew their every move. The marines split in to two groups. One moved to fortify the Port side with the remaining twenty members of the Betrayed, while the others attempted a push in to Loyalist territory to buy the injured some time.
The sights of so many who had fallen over a simple disagreement was rather disheartening to the marines, who stemmed from a society where equality was necessary for survival. As they gazed upon the fallen men and women of the Kebechet's crew, a sense of dread seemed to overcome the lead officer. They finally reached the entrance to the Starboard Side Residential. No surprise - the entrance was barricaded with tables and crates, which had a series of impact sites from gunfire. Keen pushed the table aside as the marines readied their weapons.
They didn't expect what came next.
The Loyalists, or what was left of them, were mostly injured, dying, or had moved somewhere else. Men and women lined the floors of several bedrooms, some of whom had succumbed to their injuries. Templar Keen ordered a sweep of the remaining rooms, and the marines obeyed, moving slowly through the narrow hall to examine their surroundings for danger. Templar Keen approached one of the injured men and examined him closely. The man wasn't moving, eyeing the hostile soldier who was staring down at him, expecting the worse outcome. The Templar examined the man's equipment closely for any suspicious items that might elaborate on how their movement is being tracked.
He found nothing.
The Templar stood and walked back in to the halls, signaling for his people to ready up and move. One of the marines, further down the hall, was examining one of the dead Loyalists.
"Found something." The marine said.
Templar Keen approached slowly. "Communicator?" The Templar shouted down the hall.
"No, it looks like a wir-"
The Marine tugged on the wire he had found, As he spoke, an explosion went off from beneath the corpse he was searching. The marine was tossed back against the wall as shrapnel erupted from the explosive.
A grenade trap.
The Templar rushed over with the others to examine the situation. Their comrade was dead. The Templar noted it to the others and began to press on.
Further ahead in the halls, The Loyalists were making their move. Forty men and women, having taken what they could from their comrades and their enemies, had pushed to the entrance of the bridge and were engaging the guards outside the shield that obstructed entrance to Saris' bastion of safety. Saris was unable to get a message out, The gunfire was heavy, and he knew the guards outside were outnumbered and no match for the remaining attackers. The remainder of the Senior staff had taken up arms and were ready.
Except for Curtis.
Curtis stood awkwardly by the Operations console, armed with a pistol, occasionally typing under the guise of 'keeping tabs on the shield' as he fed information to the Loyalists about strategic positions and placement of people inside the room. As the minutes drove on, the gunfire came to a stop. The guards outside had fallen, but the shield remained active.
"This is it, people. Hold our ground, and we can get out of this." Saris said to the others.
The marines continued to push up through the halls, past bodies and combat zones that had died down. Many who were wounded were left where they had fallen in the final hours of the fighting. The sight was sad, to see so many abandoned by their friends when they needed them the most. Despite this, the marines pressed on and upwards through the floors of the Kebechet.
Hearing an abrupt cease of gunfire ahead, the team lowered themselves and began to press on cautiously, weapons at the ready. They passed some recent scorch marks and fallen people all throughout the halls. They came to a stop behind a large gathering of well armed people, two corridors from the bridge entrance. Talks could be heard about tactical positioning in the bridge, as well as a few people tampering with the shield conduits in the walls, but to no avail. The bridge remained out of their reach due to the lack of engineering expertise on the Loyalists' side, but there remained a significant obstacle between them and the bridge. The marines were outnumbered two to one, and on closer inspection of their enemy, many of them were fully equipped, as they had successfully taken the armory.
The marines waited, and waited for a break or change in the odds. The minutes drifted on slowly, and each passing one moving slower than the last. Suddenly, the shield of the bridge dropped. Deactivated. They had succeeded in breaching the defense. The Loyalists moved in and pried the door open, to be met with concentrated gunfire from within.
The bridge crew were making their final stand.
Minutes prior, within the bridge, Saris had organized firing lines at each entrance to prevent entry. Three rifles at one door, four at another, the rest scattered in cover locations around the bridge. They waited with dread as the minutes ticked on. Curtis, on the other hand, eyed the makeshift defense, smirking slightly as he typed one last message in. It was time to put on the act. Curtis quietly disabled the shields to the doors.
"Sir, they're through the shielding. Conduit shut down." He said with some false concern.
This was the moment. Curtis clenched his pistol and kept his other hand primed on the detonator in his sleeve. If things went badly, plan B remained his final contingency.
As the doors were pushed open and the guns began to fire, Templar Keen gestured to the others. Three had prepared their grenades and pulled the pins. They tossed them overhead in to the crowd of Loyalists and ducked behind the walls.
Amidst the fighting, a shout could be heard.
"Grenade!" One of the Loyalists yelled.
The shout, as well as several others, were silenced with deafening explosions. The panels on the wall started to buckle as alarm lights shattered. In the fray of it all, Templar Keen stood and barked orders to his comrades. The marines began to pop around the corner and fire in to the crowd, hitting them from behind where they least expected it. The crowd panicked and fell in to disarray as gunfire was surrounding them, but they pressed on. Several Loyalists charged in to the bridge and fell, as a few more followed and killed two of the defenders. This pattern continued several times, leaving Curtis, Saris, and two others alive, not including the wounded.
In the halls, the marines continued to cut through the Loyalists, chipping away at their numbers as the bulk of their force was incapacitated or killed by the grenades they had made use of. They pressed on, passing a junction, and another. They were so close to their goal.
Seeing his efforts fall apart, Curtis raised his gun and fired, killing the Communications officer. He turned and fired again, injuring the other officer who had remained alive before he or Saris could react. Saris drew his gun on Curtis and Curtis vice versa. They stared each other down silently as the Loyalists were pushed in to the bridge.
Only six remained, and two of the marines had fallen to make it so.
Curtis eyed his former friend. "By the authority of the Protectorate and my right as First Officer of this vessel, you are hereby relieved of duty and are to be placed under arrest for High Treason."
Saris was silent. "I should've listened to my gut when we first had a saboteur on board."
Curtis smirked. "Yeah. You really should have."
Saris sighed. "All these years, side by side through thick and thin, and this is how you decided to end it. For a cause tha-"
"Don't you dare speak ill of what we've fought for. You were about to throw it all away." Curtis interrupted. "So much for old time's sake, huh? Now I'm the one calling the shots. I'm in charge."
They kept silent, staring at one another as emotions rushed through them and memories.
"What's wrong, Curt? Having second thoughts?" Saris kept his gun up. "Do it already. Even if I kill you, they'll kill me." He said.
"J-just... Shut up. I didn't ask for any of this. Why couldn't you just do what you're told?!" Curtis shouted.
The marines moved closer and closer to the opening. The Loyalists were executing the wounded as two kept an eye on Saris, and another watched the door from out of sight. Templar Keen sat back and thought. He had come this far, and was dealing with a hostage scenario. Passive termination was necessary, thus he devised a plan. He prepped concussion grenades and divided the marines in to two groups.
The first team tossed their two grenades in to the bridge, which erupted in a flash, blinding their assailants. They peeped in and fired, removing one of the Loyalists, but were met with gunfire from the hidden man. One of the marines wasn't quick enough, and collapsed as a round pierced his helmet.
The second wave of grenades went in. Curtis became distracted by the scenario, and Saris made his move. Saris turned and fired on the Loyalists as he charged Curtis. The blinding flash occurred and had affected them both. With neither able to see, the marines rushed in and began to eradicate the Loyalists. Two gunshots filled the blinding flash that Saris and Curtis had experienced.
As the smoke cleared, Saris crumpled over to the floor as blood poured from his mouth. Curtis leaned on the console to catch his breath, staring down at his dying friend. As Saris dropped on to his back, he looked up at the man he had once said he'd die for, and thought of the predicament he was in. He couldn't help but smile for how those words fit the scenario.
Curtis raised his gun and prepared to finish the job, when the marines met him with rifles. They demanded he drop his gun and step back. Curtis furled his lip. So close, yet so far. His mind was conflicted, as he wished to live, but he didn't want to lose.
"Shut up." He said.
A single shot was fired from his pistol in to Saris' chest, as Curtis simoultaneously triggered the detonator. The marines all fired in to Curtis' torso. Curtis De'Rosario dropped to his knees with a smile on his face, and toppled to the side, dead.
Saris, on the other hand, was gasping for air. The marines rushed over to ensure he was okay. Templar Keen knelt down to examine him. Saris, in pain and in shock, blinked up at the Auxesians. He attempted to speak, but did so in gurgles.
Seconds after, an explosion rocked the entirety of the ship. The marines toppled over to the floor. The explosion was followed by another, and another. A chain reaction occurred. Unable to stand or see if they were under attack, they braced themselves for the worst outcome.
In those seconds, as the ship rocked and Saris lay staring at the ceiling, he thought back on his journey, and with all negative thoughts dispelled from his mind, he smiled and accepted his fate.
Garth Saris closed his eyes and succumbed to the gunshot injuries he had received as the Kebechet's engines erupted in a flurry of explosions of all kinds, disabling the vessel.
IThe bridge rocked violently as De'Rosario's final contingency wreaked its havoc on the engineering section of the Kebechet. Plasma conduits and fuel lines erupted and began to burn wildly as the bulk of the aft end of the cruiser depressurized and shattered. The marines scattered around on the ground as their environment around them fell apart in one sudden and lethal boom. When the smoke cleared, they stood and looked around.
It was over.
Garth Saris died on the floor of his bridge, as did his First Officer and best friend, Curtis De'Rosario. It was a long and hard-fought journey, from humble beginnings in their careers to an incident of differing views. Both officers died to gunshot wounds, one of which had shot the other. Their crew, or a majority of it, lay dead. By each others hands, or by the hands of the enemy that neither side could fully predict or understand, but one side trusted them.
The trust wasn't mutual.
The Auxesians were met with many obstacles as they rounded up survivors. Two people were dying, while the rest surrendered. Nine prisoners of a war that some of them didn't want to fight. Their choice to avoid the inevitable conflict ended in a war within their own ranks, and that war was their undoing. With lowered heads, the nine were marched off the burning hull of the Kebechet, defeated. Fire control drones scuttled across the exterior of the mooring bridge on to the hull of the vessel and began to suppress and extinguish the flames they could find on the twisted remains of the primary engine.
Other drones begun to move in to the vessel and seal off depressurized areas of the ship, cutting off access to the Port side residential and entire aft end of the ship. The bulk of the drones scuttled their way through the halls, extinguishing fires and scanning the vessel. Others began to clear barricades and debris from the halls, including the bodies of the crew who had fallen in the fighting. Most of them were scanned, ID'd, and searched, before being deposited in a pile for later transport.
Some drones entered maintenance shafts and began to access the Kebechet's systems for diagnostic purposes, but were met with the swift resistance of the main computer's security firewalls. It begun to scramble useless code and delete access to restricted files. The drones attempted to correct and prevent it, but to no success. Eventually, they halted the process and begun to download relevant data and analyze systems as they went along.
They transmitted their data back over to the Andraste as the general maintenance to sustain the vessel in its current state began.
The Kebechet had fallen. The battle was over, but its journey has only just begun.