This is Not a Drill

[Barrier]

Dozer checked the straps on his riot armor for the twentieth time. Bottom left belt, bottom right, left shoulder, right shoulder - can't forget the holster, pat the pocket for the ammo, shake head to check helmet fit. He and the rest of the team, minus the LT, looked at each other, stewing in the ready room.

"I've got a code yellow from the dockmaster." Lacey's voice came over the ship-wide comm. She sounded anxious, but controlled it well.

"That's it, we're going in! Dock 3, auto-program, breach if you have to." The LT sounded relieved that the shit has now officially hit the fan. The overhead comms cut out, followed by a clatter of steps as the LT, Stilson, rushed down to the ready room.

"We go in hard, and we go in fast. We stay together and secure the major objectives, just like we drilled. Dockmaster first, then the fuel plant, then the shipyard." Stilson performed his own gear check as he spoke in measured tones, looking at no one in particular. "Bern, you stay at the docks. Riyah, the plant. Dozer, shipyard." The LT turned to look directly at him.

"You'll take point, Dozer, you're the best with the heavy gear. I will be with you all throughout. Lacey will secure the ship and monitor the docks." He looked them over as they stumbled during the last minute maneuvering. "Rules of engagement: if they point a weapon, shoot. If they get within ten meters, shoot. Watch the uniforms - station sec should be deployed, so don't scrag our own people. I will warn folks to disperse and drop their gear. Now, let's earn our pay."

The ship shuddered with the release of heavy ordnance, and the was a brief flash in the airlock porthole.

"Fuckers tried to close the door on us," Lacey conversationally informed them over the squad channel. "Maneuvering to mate with airlock. Hold on for a jolt."

Dozer moved towards the very airlock and grabbed at the drag handle. The jolt smashed him bodily into the airlock, but besides a mild pain in his nose, nothing serious got damaged.

"You're clear." Lacey called over the comm.

"Go, go, go." Stilson's voice came through both the comm and behind Dozer, as eight other bodies stacked up behind him.

He pushed the cycle button, confirming the emergency clause that would hopefully cycle the opposite lock at the same time, saving them precious minutes. He tried to control his breathing as he waited, his scattergun at the low ready. He really needed to piss.

The station's glare was briefly blinding after the muted combat stations lighting of the gunship. Dozer rushed out of the killing field and immediately felt something slam into his chest armor. Time seemed to slow.

Dozer's brain registered a crowd further in the main concourse, a handful of people running away towards his left, and - there, two figures facing him, one with something in his hand - that was a slug-thrower for sure, the other hefting something his way.. Dozer's body automatically performed the necessary motions, and he breathed out as the recoil slammed into his shoulder. He kept moving, counting the second before he could fire again, but both men were down, and no one else was within contact distance.

"errr, eeep iiingg!" Dozer realized there was a roaring in his ears, and the world suddenly snapped into place.

"Keep going, move it!" Stilson shouted at him over the comm, and Dozer obeyed. He scanned the crowd again, some of whom was starting to peel off in a rush, while others turned their way with uncertain postures. He did not see obvious weapons, but he couldn't be sure at that distance. He kept jogging towards the other end of the bay.

"Disperse at once! Go back to your quarters!" Stilson's amplified voice boomed out. "We will not hesitate to open fire!"

"Lacey, we got two down near the airlock, check them after you're secure." The LT's voice over the comm was casual, but Dozer easily detected the strain beneath it. They already engaged enemies, and what might have been a drunken misunderstanding was developing into a clusterfuck of uncertain proportions.

They reached the dockmaster offices, and the front bulkhead door obligingly began sliding open as it detected their presence. The reception was deserted, but Dozer thought he could hear shouting deeper inside.

"We need the master console. Left hallway, then the last door on your right." Stilson was looking at his arm for confirmation.

Another door slid open, and Dozer saw three people at the end of the hallway, focused on the door. One of them was leaning over the panel and holding something. The other two were standing back, but when they spotted their group, they began shifting their bodies in the tell-tale motion of someone assuming a firing position.

"Drop your weapons! Hands in the air, NOW!" The LT's amplified voice was particularly deafening in the confined hallway. Dozer raised his weapon to fire.

At the last moment, both figures tossed something to their right, which bounced off the wall and clattered onto the floor. One of the objects exploded in a flash, and Dozer felt rather than heard the zip of a bullet traveling past him. He dimly realized that the fools did not engage the safety before throwing away the guns, and one must have gone off. His hands twitched, but he forced them back down to a low ready grip, and advanced.

"Away from the door! Lay on the ground, hands on your head. Do it now!" Dozer thought that the LT just saved three lives, but he was still ready to fire as he advanced. But the figures in the mis-matched overalls seemed suitably awed by their group. The one at the door dropped her device, and kneeled before plopping down onto the floor with the others. They secured the silent prisoners as Dozer transmitted the emergency access codes, which began cycling the reinforced airlock of the master control room.

The LT was still busy trying to get some intel from the prisoners, so Dozer called out into the opening room. "We're from Colwyn. We're coming in to secure the area. Don't shoot!" He felt the reassuring hand on his shoulder as he advanced through the now open airlock. He saw an older man at one of the main consoles, and another uniform pop out from behind a long table.

"Thank the stars!" The younger man called out, coming around with his hands half-raised. "Those IMG fucks almost made it in."

"Are you secure?" Dozer wanted to move on to the next objective asap.

"We're fine here, no one else got - " "They got to the hauler in 2!" The older man interrupted, still not taking his eyes from the screens. His fingers tapped out more commands, and the schematic changed, the tactical screen meaning little to Dozer. "Plant is secure, but the yard is unknown. There's also a crowd in the main concourse here, and in the maintenance bays, here." The LT came up behind Dozer and nodded along to the report.

"The shipyard can wait. We need to disperse that crowd. I'm leaving you one of mine to secure these." He indicated behind him, as Bern frog-marched the woman into a waiting conference chair, and yanked her arms behind it.

"Fuck! They've got Olhauzer, and they're heading towards Maintenance." The older man pointed to a screen corner with some grainy camera footage.

"All right, let's get back to it! Dozer, take point, and double-time it to the main concourse!"

Dozer looked longingly on the bathroom suite down the hall, and hefted his weapon.