Holding position at the designated co-ordinates, a trio of Storm Class Gunboats lurked in the dark. Predators, the elite Coalition strike wing had turned back the Reaper's of Sirius, the Bounty Hunter Guild, and served the Premier faithfully in the civil war. Now they stood ready to do one more service for the True Ikon, the Coalition's Autarch, Premier Katz.
Thomas sat at the controls, sipping from a thermos mug of Tim Horton's coffee, watching the silence of Falkland's base, the Outcasts kept the place locked down tighter than a drum, with good reason, the Colonial Remnant were about.
Not that they mattered, all three of the Storms mounted cloaking devices taken from the CPW-Kerimov when she had been delivered to the Coalition by the Order... back in the days of the Alliance. A little prewar know-how, salvaged from the Resurgency mission, and they were ahead of the curve. An element of surprise the Coalition Captain wasn't prepared to squander.
The heavily armoured Coalition shock trooper moved to the hatch behind him, "Captain, we are in position, the men are ready to receive, awaiting your orders."
"So be it," the Captain said, turning back to his controls. "Now we wait for the confirmation that Commissar Mendel's offer has been accepted."
"I don't like it sir, dealing with... them..." the trooper's red lensed helmet nodding to the window.
"Ours is not the reason why, Corporal, the Order are a priority target at the moment, and this prisoner is worth his weight in gold to us."
Thomas sipped his coffee. "Finally, we can pay back the thieves that stabbed the Coalition in the back and set off the Civil War."
Major Otto Wolfe had just finished reviewing the mission parameters.
"Listen up!" he addressed his marines.
"You all know your mission, ensure your suit is properly sealed, and your weapons ready to fire at a moments notice."
Unlike his predecessor, Commissar-Colonel Rhade, Major Wolfe preferred to organize and command from the back, rather then be the first one into action. Wolfe found it a more effective way to lead, since it allowed him to command with a full range of information, rather then a limited personal point of view. If need be, however, he wasn't afraid to suit up if it was absolutely necessary.
The Coalition Peoples Warship "Totenkopf" lay in wait along with two other Storm gunboats. He took the time to admire just how effective, yet simple his Storm Gunboat was. Almost fresh off the production line, it had the absolute latest the Coalition had to offer, as well as a few non-standard additions, such as a cloaking device. While the Order had proven to be traitorous dogs, their technology had allowed for great leaps in Coalition technology that would not of otherwise been possible.
"Wait for the signal, then prepare to enact Operation: Tea Party."
"By your command, Comrade Major." Section Commander, Trooper EV0-027 reported through the radio mic in his helmet.
He locked and loaded his weapon, checking the chamber of the XK-14 assault rifle, and checking the status of his men. They were prepared, the latest Coalition battle armour, the Elite troops, and the newest weaponry. They were prepared for any treachery.
With the Oathkeeper gone, Rika safely out of the way, and Xion did her thing. They had a carrier and thier trump card. Ellie paced, Aqua rattling off their forces onboard the Missing Ache.
"Ten Sekhmets, twelve Bastet, fifteen Nephthys."
Ellie sat down.
"Xion?"
A hologram of a girl a few years her junior but an exact duplicate appeared.
"In position. Namine is also here. Call us when its time."
The hologram disappeared. Ellie rubbed her arms. She looked to Aqua.
"Location of Scout Team Alpha?"
"Their at,the Freeport. The Reflective Armor unhindered."
Ellie didn't care. All she needed was the way to Alpha and the Verminaror cleared.
----------------------------
Jeremy sat in his cell, seemingly asleep. No, he was alert. And he was ready. Hopefully.
The Verminator approached the RV, Tau 37. Death Runner had Jeremy by his side, a chunk of his hair missing. Every time a crew member saw this, they couldn't help but laugh. But 'twas not just the now awkward looking order captain, but the happiness the crew felt from the 600 million credits they had just received. More credits for the boss, more credits for them. The Sarissa parked beside the three SCRA gunboats.
"Haha! A splendid sight! I had thought the day that i see the SCRA in front of me would be the day I die!"
The crew looked around at each other, confused.
"Eh never mind that.. Well then! I have your little boy here!"
The captain turned towards his side and pointed at one of the guards holding Jeremy.
"You there. Take a squad of your best and proceed with the orders."
The screen went blank for a moment, then quickly returned to It's normal state. Death Runner turned back towards the terminal and screen.
"Ah sorry about that, a bit of a malfunction.. Damn machinery. Heh.. Right well! He is being sent over as I speak."
A small transport soon departed the Sarissa, and began heading towards the gunboats. Jeremy was constantly mocked and even smacked a couple times by the ruthless guards of an evil captain. Upon arrival, the respective SCRA officials stood there at the airlock, arms folded and awaiting their prisoner. The guards had Jeremy in thick chains, some even seemed to have been misplaced and 'accidently' hooked onto his skin.
Jeremy winced at every step. Damn chains. And it was gonna be murder to fix his hair. Jeremy stood, his eyes glaring defiance. He looked at the Coalition. Great. Woulda been happier with the Hackers. Hell, Nomads might have been better.
Stepping forward, upon orders from his superior, EV0-027 hooked his heavy gloved hand into the collar of the young man, pulling him back aboard the Storm. A nod to one of the other soldiers and the briefcase palm scanner was brought forward. 600 million credits flashing as a direct transfer. Waiting for the palm print to confirm where it was going.
Once the transaction was completed, the hatch cycled closed, and Hunter was surrounded by Coalition Shock Troopers.
The Storm disengaged from the transport, pivoting in space as it activated its cloaking device, streaking in tight formation with the other Storms away from the Rendezvous, the weaving patterns of the Storms were like the cups over the Bean, shifting patterns so rapidly it would be difficult for any to track, near impossible considering the Cloaking devices.
At the last moment, unseen by prying eyes, two of the Storms docked, and Hunter was rapidly transferred.
At the prearranged moment, the Storms broke formation, each heading down a different tangent bursting through the Tau-23 jump hole, and scattering into the night.
On board the Social Credit, Captain Thomas nodded to his guest, lifting a key and unlatching the cuffs.
"I would give you the standard spiel about escape... but this is a Coalition Storm, and an old one. There are no computers on this ship, and piloting one takes several months of expert training. So even if you did kill me, I am afraid you're going no where... You might as well enjoy your stay though."
Thomas led the youth forward to a berth, just behind the radio room, motioning to a seat at a battered wooden table, opposite a bunk.
"You will be permitted to transmit a message to your family and friends indicating you are being well treated. The messages will all be relayed by Freeport 6, I am afraid our destination is a little further off the beaten path than that, however I think you would appreciate that we are not monsters, and have no desire to keep you our prisoner, however we are not going to tell you our course, nor our destination yet, and since there are no computers here, and no windows except in the cockpit, I find it unlikely you will be able to relay our position."
Thomas fetched a lunchbox down from a storage locker, "eat, it isn't much some Stroganoff and some hot tea, should sort you out though. Bed is over there... shower back there." he motioned. "I have a change of clothes for you there... not an Order uniform, but some cover alls. They should fit you... don't mind the troopers either... best you don't head back to the Engineering section, they get... touchey about that."
"Yeah...you going to execute me? Just tell me now, so I know whether I need to say goodbye. You say not as a prisoner? Context."
Jeremy tore into the food.
"Gime a knife. And don't give me that, you all have guns."
Jeremy paused.
"I do not think you are monsters, only angry. I know you are human. I don't know why the alliance broke, and don't ask me anything important, I'm blacklisted. As for revealing your position...meh..."
Jeremy took a sip of tea.
"Oh don't happen to have a sewing kit? Those coveralls can,help repair these." He motioned to his destroyed ensemble. "Im kind of attached to these particular clothing."
He looked at his jailer.
"And out of the way? Don't happen to be going to Zvezdney Gorodok or Volgograd, do you? Christmas party."
Jeremy drained half the tea and waited for the man to answer. He would toy with his necklace once in awhile, messing with his hair to cover the place where there was a missing chunk.
"A knife?" the Captain chuckled. "Nice try. A rather burly Order trooper taught me a thing or two about knives while we were still allies... seems you lot have some... skill that makes placing a knife in your hands especially dangerous."
He settled back into his seat, "This is a Storm, there's a sewing kit in that box there, we repair everything on this ship. Part of the tradition. As for Christmas... I remember you from then. This used to be Enrico Alvarez's ship. Seems he was partial to you. So for his sake, consider yourself our guest, rest, recuperate... we will be arriving at our destination soon."
He noted the flicker of surprise, "No, it isn't Omega-52... and no you aren't going to be executed on this trip. We don't care about the alliance, nor about revenge. Information we already have, technology... well you can see we already know all the Order secrets. No Jerry, you have no value to us at all."
Jeremy began to repair his tattered ensemble by using strips of coverall he tore off with difficulty. He worked quickly and effeciently on his clothes.
"For his sake, I won't be as much of a pain. And..."
He rubbed the back of his head.
"If I'm no use to you...then who's the poor bastards you're giving me to?"
Jeremy finished his shorts.
"Show me the comm terminal...might as well give a damn good speech to my friends, family, and especially the guy sending cow eyes at my twin sister and the nimrod I helped drag into Order Intel."
Jeremy finished the food off.
"Please tell me there's more at the destination, and is there a medkit? Jackasses didn't pay attention."
Jeremy had been wincing, a gash on his arm from the chains 'attached' to his skin earlier.
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