From Darkness

[Manticore]

LAMBERT

James Lambert glided, ghost-like, through the tomb-silent corridors of Altona Station. The lights flickered in long, irregular intervals as the station’s power core struggled to keep up with the abuse being heaped upon it. The sounds of distant fighting were beginning to drift to his helmet-enhanced ears, and he moved towards them in a fast crouch, pistol drawn, sticking to shadows whenever he could. This was a major thoroughfare in the station, but it remained dead and empty. Eerily so.

He stepped up to a major crossroads, and with practiced footwork pivoted to check the lines of sight crossways.

Clear, clear… wait.

Movement down the corridor to his left. He ducked back around the corner as the unmistakable sound of boots clanking on the metal deck reached his ears. His suit’s short-range sensors would’ve been able to pick up the contacts and identify them using IFF protocols, but he’d disabled them to be certain he could remain electronically invisible. His ears were still perfectly functional, and he picked out two separate sets of footfalls accompanied by some low-voiced chatter in Rheinlander. Mentally, he translated a piece of their conversation.

“They have us wandering behind the lines while the commandos get to finish the Libertonians.”

“We will have our chance, Flieger.”

“Perhaps. But perhaps none will be left by the time they call us in.”

The footfalls grew louder, and Lambert quickly decided on his plan of attack. With deliberate care, he silently slid a compact combat knife from a sheath attached to his shoulder, holding it in his right hand and the pistol in his left. He pressed himself into a thin layer of shadows along the wall as the pair of soldiers walked past him. Neither spared a glance in his direction, focused completely on their argument. They wore standard equipment for Rheinland garrison marines - light tactical armor and a compact, open-faced helmet.

As they continued past Lambert, he acted.

He leapt forward at the closest man. The active sound damping system on his armor masked his presence until it was too late, and his target had only just begun to turn in suspicion when Lambert’s right hand snaked around him and jerked the knife across his throat, right above the top edge of his own chest piece. It was a messy, deep cut but he savagely yanked the knife through the man’s flesh and out the other side.

He then turned his attention to the second man, who was attempting to lift his weapon to respond. The man had gaped in shock for just a moment too long, however, and Lambert’s left hand came up, pistol leveled at the stunned expression on the Rheinlander’s face.

Lambert squeezed the trigger, and the man’s gaping mouth exploded in a mess of blood.

He quickly holstered the knife and pistol and snatched up one of the Rheinlander’s weapons - a compact assault rifle typical of those used by all marines for shipboard activities. With armor-piercing rounds it could get the job done against enemy marines, but the weapon lacked sufficient power to blow a hole through the side of a ship or station.

He flipped up the red-dot sight and moved deeper into the station, now with a brisker pace. It would not be long before the Rheinlanders knew something had happened in this area. He cut off from the main corridor into a small cargo storage bay, and crossed it as the sound of gunfire grew decidedly louder. Behind the gray, nondescript crates of this storage bay was a large floor-to-ceiling steel door, marked in Rheinlander as ‘Loading Bay 2’.

Lambert had never been much of a techie, but fortunately this particular door required no special authorization to open. He quickly slid his back against the wall to the left as the door panel flashed green and the door split in half and slid open. The volume of the gunfire immediately rose to the din of an active combat zone. His ears immediately picked out the familiar sound of Liberty manufactured assault rifles, along with closer gunfire that could only be Rheinlander weapons.

He snapped a quick glance into the next area, revealing a cavernous transport loading bay. Mooring ports lined the far wall, where cargo could be quickly loaded into the waiting hold of a transport. Tall stacks of cargo containers half-filled the bay, providing cover for both sides in the battle that raged within it. It was a maze of narrow passages between the massive cargo containers, and gunfire flashed and echoed all around.

Lambert stole another glance, realizing that he had somehow emerged into the quietest corner of the bay. Squads of fully armored Rheinland marines were entering the bay on the far side, and their direction led Lambert to believe that the surviving Libertonian marines had been herded into the center of this maze. It was a smart move on the part of the Rheinlanders - back the enemy into a corner where they could easily be finished off with no survivors. There couldn’t be many left.

He considered his options. He had to do something, he’d come this far already. But he either had to go into the bay blind, and hope he could find his marines before the Rheinlanders stumbled across him, or tap into the Libertonian battle net and possibly alert the Rheinlanders to his general position. The lights continued to steadily flicker as indecision grasped him.

The door he’d just opened abruptly sprung back to life, beginning to close.

Of course! This was a Rheinland station, their central control would have been able to determine that this door had been opened. They were closing it remotely!

Muttering a curse to himself, he frantically looked around as the door began to drift back together from both sides. Lambert pushed off from the wall, practically leaping the five paces to a low cargo crate on this side of the door, as tall as his waist and fairly compact. It looked to be made of strong super alloy. Too heavy to lift, he threw his shoulder into it and shoved the crate towards the rapidly-closing door. Engaging the magnets in his boots for additional traction, he threw all of his strength into the crate to get it across the floor. He didn’t think he was going to make it, but then the crate shuddered violently as the door’s twin sides caught on it’s bulk. The door’s internal motors squealed in frustration as the crate stopped the door from closing, but kept applying futile force.

The central controller would know something was wrong very soon, which meant Lambert was out of time. He took a deep breath, and then leapt over the crate and into the chaos of the loading bay.

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