Serov stood to the side while Merlow grabbed his weapons from the wall. Anger and disgust filled his thoughts. That sick bastard was back again, probably had leaked vital information about the flagship to someone on the surface, not everything perhaps but enough to mount an effective offensive. He had to prepare for the worse. The cogs were already in motion, as Sadukar units were flooding through ships, searching it deck by deck in six-unit squads. He had already authorized the new sense-sharing update for all Sadukar units, allowing them to share sensory information with their squadmates. Typhoons were already in space, patrolling around the ship, warning all ships in the area to steer clear of the damaged Dreadnaught. The Bretonian Cruiser HMS Yorktown was already in business, cloaked along side the Danaan with her own fighter compliment in space. Rear Admiral Nagato was on her way with her cruiser LNS Data Entity. Anderson and Manning were already on the surface, and Merlow was sure to personally send HiME members Harada Chie, Miyu Greer, and Seras Victoria to assist them. They were sent down in drop pods as little surprise to whoever this twisted Scarman had on the surface.
Serov looked Merlow up and down. Merlow had on his waist his Katana and Wakizashi on his left; extra magazines on his right along with a few grenades and two combat knives; on his shoulder holsters his two rail pistols; on his back his Liberty Arms Special Operations Combat Assault Rifle (LA SCAR); his customary dress shoes had been replaced by combat boots, both with two small throwing knives each in special hidden compartments. The rifle was slung outside of his trench coat, which was lined with projectile-resistant material, as was his combat gear.
Serov gave Merlow a thumbs up, "We're ready for war, my friend."
"Got a quote for me, oh mighty philosopher?" Merlow jabbed at Serov.
"What do you want? The Litany Against Fear, something out of The Art of War, perhaps one from the mighty Gloria Hellsing..." Serov trailed off, waiting for a reaction.
"Damn it, just give me something relevant!" Merlow snapped.
Serov laughed, he cleared his throat, "'May God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't.'"
"Patton, eh?" Merlow mused, "Good choice."
"Thought you might like that one," Serov said with a bow.
"Well, let's get to it."
Merlow and Serov walked out of the armory, Admiral Scarman meeting them in mid stride. Together they walked to the turbo lift.
They made in to Deck 8. Three HiME were there to meet them: Combat-Colonel Alice Kr?ger, Intelligence Colonel Fujino Shizuru and Hunter-Major Isidora Reyna de la Rosa. The trio saluted as soon as Merlow stepped off the lift. He saluted back.
"Situation?" He asked.
"The alternate Scarman has already made his escape it seems," replied Shizuru, "We've reports of numerous opening in the Jefferies tube network and of a missing Thunderhawk transport. He's probably already on the surface."
"The prisoners?" Serov asked.
"Still in the Brig, Sir."
"We should kill them." Serov said, "Eliminate the problem before it gets any worse."
The stopped Merlow cold, "Wait, what!?" he exclaimed, "We're members of the Liberty Navy, not some ragtag group of criminals!"
Serov turned around to face him, "That one Brawler, or whatever the hell they call themselves, has caused so much damage and taken so many lives that he doesn't deserve to live."
Merlow's eyes flared, "What give you that authority?" he asked coldly.
"This does!" he screamed, raising his left sleeve, revealing a nasty brand in the shape of two letter Ds, "You remember those Domestic Disturbance bastards back in our home dimension!? Working for the f***ing Corsairs, those ***holes took me prisoner and beat the s*** out of me. I have no sympathy for these bastards." He lowered his voice, "The only reason I let that one poor excuse for a human being live was because I thought he might be useful. Apparently I was wrong." Serov stood there, dazed for a moment, seeming to relive the weeks of torture...
The six of them stood in the center of the hall, frozen for a moment. Merlow snapped his fingers in front of the dazed Serov.
"Look, no matter what those ***holes did to you, we're better than that. You know it, and I know it." he patted him on the back, then turned his attention to the HiME, "I want our automated defenses activated in the Brig and I want a squad of Sadukar and one HiME there." Shizuru nodded and activated her comm-link, transmitting the order.
The six of them walked on towards the open guest quarters. Two Sadukar stood at the open door, allowing Merlow, Serov, and Scarman to enter while the HiME hung back. Merlow replayed the video in his mind, watching that little girl slump down from the rifle strike. The sight made Merlow seethe.
"Gentlemen, we're heading down for the surface." Merlow said, anger emanating from his voice, "I need two squads of Sadukar on the surface before I arrive. Tell the Yorktown to drop pod some troops down. You." He said pointing to the HiME, "you're going down with us. Tom, Marcus, let's go."
Commander in Chief of the Migrant Fleet / Former Fleet Admiral of the Liberty First Fleet Second Survivor of the Mentat Program. We must give and take with good measure. Give too much, we become complacent. Take too much, we incur the wrath of our own. Tread Lightly. --Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow--
"Persistant bastards aren't they?" Sayne said to himself as a Typhoon fighter flew overhead. "They will learn their lesson in being that way." Sayne smiled and began to cut his way through the forest through the brush. He eventually made it to a small covered weapon platform. Powered down of course, anything powered up in this location would light him up brighter than a Christmas tree. Sayne climbed underneath the canopy of the weapon and manually cranked the pivoting platform to aim at the location the fighter was coming to. The ship flew into the scope and he powered up the weapon and fired three quick bursts at the ship. Two of them went across the front bow, but the third contacted the rear of the ship, spinning it out of control.
"Bing!" Sayne said laughing and powered down the weapon again, manually cranking the weapon to aim at the direction the other fighter flew towards.
"Are you there Mr. Jadyn?" said a voice over the communicator.
"Bloody hell, what do you want?" Sayne replied.
"We have what you requested."
"Does he know?"
"None the wiser. The Tyrant wishes us to play the two into your arms, have you taken them down yet?"
"Watch your tone welp. I've gotten one of the bastards, but the other one is evading me, flew off towards the moutains somewhere. I'll contact you when he's down."
Sayne hit the keyout button on his communicator and remained stealthed underneath the canopy, waiting for the other fighter to show himself.
I've lost people who meant the world to me...and I'm still doing just fine. I'm coming for everything they said I couldn't have.
After several minutes, Tyrant Scarman broke free from his cover. He ran across to the Jeffries tube entrance and rammed the tip of the fission blade into the locking mechanism. With a strained groan, the narrow port slid back into its berth, the fused console spitting sparks. He then flicked off the fission blade and returned it to the inside of his suit jacket. Turning around, he then hauled up the lame body of Victoria Wade, pushing her into the gap. He repeated the exchange with the unconscious form of Heather Scarman before following them in himself.
He had forced several Jeffries tube entrances in the past twenty minutes, leaving a false trail for the Freedom Fighter units that were now swarming the ship, looking for him. Several times he had fallen close to being captured, too close for comfort. But even he could not perform at his best when lugging two unconscious bodies around with him. He had secured one of the smaller transporter vessels in hangar bay two, releasing one of the Thunderhawks and setting it on a false trajectory. He had since observed a slack in security, perhaps his guise had worked and Merlow thought he had escaped on the Thunderhawk. Either way, he still reckoned he had little time.
Leaving the two trussed up bodies near the entrance of the Jeffries tube, Scarecrow advanced down the dimly lit tube. The access panel was several meters ahead, if the schematic he had downloaded was accurate. He crawled along the tube, keeping his head from banging on the crossbars above. When he finally arrived at the panel, he eased off the case with his fingers and then produced his palm computer. He plugged the computer into the terminal and then opened the system virus he had prepared. The virus flooded into the Danaans security network like a tidal wave in cyber space.
Moving swiftly, Scarecrow doubled back down the tube and dropped neatly out of the other end. He was just in time to fall face to face with two armored Sadukar Soldiers. Moving fast, the Tyrant dropped down onto his hands and spun like a disc on the floor, knocking the first Soldiers legs from beneath him. He then slid forward across the floor, trapping the second Soldiers shins between his own legs and scissoring him down to the floor. Another swift move and he was pressing the mans neck into the floor with his knee and retrieving his blaster from its holster.
Pay my respects to the afterworld, Scarecrow kissed his blaster before angling it down at the back of the mans head. Before he could pull the trigger however, the first Sadukar Soldier barreled into his back, knocking him from the second Soldier. The first picked up his comrade and retrieved his carbine. Marcus lay on the floor, winded from the blow. His blaster lay almost a meter from his grip. He looked up at the grinning Sadukar Soldier as he lifted the carbine and sighted down it. The Soldiers head exploded with a red fury, spattering the walls with bloody droplets and fine grains of bone and brain matter.
Marcus looked down the hallway just in time to see the massive dark form of Pete Connors, standing with a carbine pressed against his cheek, its barrel smoldering gently. The second Sadukar Soldier rolled over, grabbing for his own carbine. But he was too late. Two more bolts blasted out of Connors angry rifle, blowing apart the second soldiers chest cavity. Connors walked purposefully down the corridor towards Tyrant Scarman, lowering his carbine. A pale young lady followed, wearing a black flight suit. She looked terrified.
My Tyrant, Connors stooped before Marcus, helping him up.
I was just on my way to free you, my faithful Brawler. Scarman said, My security virus seemed to have a more widespread effect than I had initially thought.
The energy field holding me in suddenly began to fluctuate, before cutting out completely. It didnt take me long to subdue my guard.
An excellent effort, Pete, but now we must make our escape. Scarman turned around and made back for the Jeffries tube. Who is that?
This is Regina Delores; shes a rookie who was captured down in the spaceport.
Then she may be of use to us, Scarecrow briefly looked her over, Yes, she will be useful.
With that, he turned into the Jeffries tube, Connors close behind him. Delores stared in terror at the open hatch for a moment before hurriedly following the two men.
The hangar bay was quiet, aside from the low hum of a couple of maintenance droids. Marcus glanced across the open space, imagining the large Thunderhawk dropship sat on its landing struts. He had left General Serov and Fleet Admiral Merlow outside Senator Scarmans quarters after equipping himself with an array of weaponry. A blaster pistol, an array of power units and a couple of plasma grenades hung from his belt whilst a carbine lay across one shoulder. He took one more look around the expanse of the hangar bay before turning around and making for the entrance to the bay control room.
The thick metal door slid back with a neat click, casting a flickering array of shadows before Scarecrow. A small staircase lay before him, the dull metal of the decking glinting in the low light from overhead. He climbed the flight of stairs and turned around to face the bank of surveillance and security terminals that ran along the furthest wall. He made his way over to the nearest console and pulled over a seat. If Tyrant Scarman had really stolen the Thunderhawk, there should be a visual record of him and his captives boarding the dropship. He began to tap away at the console, brining up the latest security feeds.
An image appeared showing the hangar bay approximately thirty minutes prior to Scarecrows arrival. His suspicions were confirmed as he saw Tyrant Scarman deposit his two captives on the deck and proceed into the Thunderhawk. Several minutes later, his evil alternate self reappeared from the landing vessel and gathered his bruised and broken prizes before vanishing back through the large bulkhead and into the depths of the Danaan. Several seconds later, the hangar bay entrance lights began to flash and the Thunderhawks engines fired up.
Not before long, the Thunderhawk had launched and was away, blasting out into space. Marcus leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. Tyrant Scarman was still aboard, as he had suspected. Feeling the anger rising from within, Marcus stood up and headed back to the doorway. He swung his carbine into his waiting hands and slammed a cartridge into place.
As soon as he had left the hangar bay, his palm computer chimed. Flicking it open, he answered the call with an air of annoyance.
Yes, what is it.
Its Ensign Powell sir, Powells voice sounded nervous.
Go ahead Ensign,
Admiral, there has been a breech in security in the brig.
Well, two cents in figuring out who is responsible for that, Marcus growled, Thank you Ensign.
He shut off his palm computer and headed for the brig.
---
Fleet Admiral, The communicae had crackled over the network as clearly as if Ensign Powell had been next to him. Ive got something important that you might want to see
Now, Fleet Admiral Merlow looked in disgust at the broken corpses that lay before him. He stood in the loading gantry for torpedo bay two, after the message from Ensign Powell had reported two bodies stowed away within one of the torp cases. Senator Marcus Scarman, and his wife Hannah, had been brutally murdered by the Senators alternate self, Tyrant Scarman. The body of the Senator seemed to have been shot in the face, his head nothing but a bloody pulp. Dark red blood stained the expensive suit shirt and jacket that still clung to his lifeless frame. The body of Hannah Scarman was, in Roberts eyes, far worse. She was naked and covered in bruises, her light blonde hair stained with red. Merlow turned away in bitter disgust, trying not to think of the two victims poor daughter.
Two Engineers who had been closest to the scene of the crime; Martin Cole and Alexandra Laughlin, were giving statements to two security officers stood near by.
And he just walked around the corner, as if he were taking a stroll in the park. Laughlin said, emphasizing her statement colorfully with her hands.
Robert turned to face Thomas Serov, an unwavering look of menace in his eyes. If Marcus was right, then we might be able to catch this bastard on the Danaan.
If he was right, then our entire security team needs a big slap in the face.
After what has transpired today my friend, I intend to give them a big slap in the face. I never imagined an internal security breech, this is unforgivable. Merlows glowering features persuaded Serov to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he followed the Fleet Admiral as he stormed from the torpedo tube.
Well head for the hangar bay, Merlow continued without waiting for Serov to reply, Scarecrow will have checked the hangar by now, if anything turns up then well meet up with him. Otherwise the plan stands; we make planetfall and rendezvous with Admiral Anderson.
---
Lucas dropped his Typhoon to below 100 mph, ready to land. They had been scanning the area for no more than fifteen minutes before Mannings sensors had picked up an anomalous reading. Anderson dropped his fighter down towards the canopy, sighting the target area before him. Kurt had landed on the outskirts of a large clearing, directing Lucas in via intercom. Lucas decelerated drastically before twisting Obsidian four around and dropped his landing struts.
Down below in the clearing, Kurt Manning watched from a distance as the newly appointed Freedom Fighter Admiral dropped his starfighter neatly into the edge of the forest canopy, safely out of view from any vessels that might pass overhead. He had hidden Obsidian five in a similar way, covering her with leaves and branches so that from above she looked like a simple patch of forest. He strode across the clearing to where Obsidian four had finally touched down, ready to help Lucas in covering his fighter.
Ten minutes later, the two men were walking briskly around the fringe of the clearing. They had covered Obsidian four with as much of the surrounding biological detritus as they could manage before setting off in the direction of Kurts find.
I saw something over here, He said as they crouched behind a fallen log.
You saw[i] something, Lucas said, giving Kurt a sideways glance. You mean, with your [i]own eyes?
Funny guy, Manning replied, curtly. I was doing a flyover of this area and I caught a glimpse of something down on the fringe of the forest. As a bounty hunter, you learn to catch things with your own senses, instead of simply relying on your ships sensors.
Alright, alright, Lucas held up his hands in mock resignation. What is it then?
Kurt produced a small pair of binoculars from his belt and held them to his eyes, surveying the large clearing before him. He looked around for a few moments before his eyes came to rest on the object he had spotted. A wry smile crossed his lips as he handed the binoculars to Lucas.
There you go, look pretty much due east.
Lucas rested his elbows on the fallen log before squinting through the small binoculars. It took him several seconds to find what Kurt was looking at, but when his eyes finally found their target, he couldnt help but share Mannings grin.
Two men wearing black jump suits were pulling a large, dark green tarpaulin from a concealed starfighter. What Kurt had seen must have been the sun glinting off the metal as the sheet was pulled from the concealed vessel. From what Lucas could make out, it was a Hammerhead class gunship, but with a black paint job and a red crest on its dorsal fin. The closer Lucas looked at the crest, more certain he was. They had found at least one of the secret landing locations of the Black Flag Corsairs...
Fleet Robert Merlow stood outside the drop ships, his Sadukar and his HiME awaiting his word to drop to the surface. They had no transports, and their teleportation chambers were destroyed, save one. Their last option was to conduct true surface invasion tactics. Their last choice was a drop pod assault. He thought about all of the faithful personnel that died today, the dead Scarmans, the numerous innocents that died during this whole ordeal. This long, meandering trail of thought lead back to one thing: little Heather Scarman and Captain Victoria Wade. Merlow had taken this far beyond matters of military affairs, beyond national security. He thought of this as a personal vendetta now. There was two goals to this mission: the rescue of Heather and Victoria and the death of Tyrant Marcus Scarman.
General Thomas Serov stood along side him, anxiously awaiting Merlow's go order. He knew how Robert's mind worked. If there was anything that involved children, if any harm came to them in any way, he would do everything in his power to bring justice to those who harmed them. He thought of the Tyrant as disgusting already, but to attack children? He didn't know that a man could stoop so low. Not even the Corsairs of his home universe would debase themselves to that level.
Merlow turned his head to the side, his voice volume near a whisper, "General, load up the Marines. I want them ready to go as soon as we're planet side. We'll be the first wave: You, me, Scarman, and the HiME I assigned to us. We'll be in the first in there. As soon as we link up with Anderson and the HiME team already on the surface, I want the Marines planet side."
"Of course," Serov simply confirmed. He transmitted the orders to the Sadukar Officers. He looked behind him in time to see Admiral Scarman running up to them.
"Sir," he called to their backs, "They're not on the surface yet."
Serov rolled his eyes, "It was a feint, wasn't it?"
Scarman slid to a stop next to him, "Yeah, it was. He's a clever one."
Merlow turned around to face them, "You're telling me that the f***er is still on board my ship?" he asked quietly, obviously trying to hold back the feelings of intense rage.
"Looks to be that way. We have no idea where he is on the ship either. We've lost contact with the brig and it looks like there's a powerful virus running rampant in our security systems."
Serov looked behind the trio once again to the soldiers standing behind them, "We're already committed."
"GODDAMNIT!" Merlow screamed, his control snapped, "F*** ME IF WE LET THIS PIECE OF S*** RUN AROUND LIKE A F***ING PLAGUE!"
Serov stepped back, the sheer force of Merlow's booming voice seeming to push him, "Rob, what do you propose we do...?" he asked cautiously.
"GET TESSA ON THE F***ING JOB AND HAVE HER SOLVE THE F***ING PROBLEM!" Merlow boomed, losing all forms of vocal self control.
"Right on it," Scarman replied quietly, "Anything else?"
"GET DOCTOR SAGISAWA OVER HERE! I NEED NANITES!"
-----
Planet Side, Planet Los Angeles
The doors burst forth from the pod, exposing those inside to the air. The scent assaulted Seras' nose, causing a fit of sneezing. Miyu Greer looked upon her briefly before she brushed her blue hair back and materialized her element, a pair of katars.
Seras wiped her nose with a handkerchief, "Damnit, Miyu, you're too much like Nagato."
Miyu allowed a chuckled lightly, "I'm not emotionless, Seras."
"Let's go, ladies." Harada Chie said, "We've go to meet up with Anderson."
Seras nooded, "Gotcha." She materialized her large Harkonnen Rifle and held in over her left shoulder, "Let's move."
Chie summoned a simple cane, "Let's."
Commander in Chief of the Migrant Fleet / Former Fleet Admiral of the Liberty First Fleet Second Survivor of the Mentat Program. We must give and take with good measure. Give too much, we become complacent. Take too much, we incur the wrath of our own. Tread Lightly. --Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow--
Lucas flew low over the treetops, keeping Obsidian four sheathed in her stealth field. He knew Manning and Obsidian five were close by, however he didnt have a direct line of sight. The two men they had been observing from a distance had uncovered two ships before launching and heading for the city. One of the vessels they were tailing was the Hammerhead; the second one was a design unknown to Lucas. It looked like a Dagger, a borderworld model commonly used among pirate factions. However its shape was slightly different to the schematics for the borderworld fighters Lucas had seen before.
Now, dusk had fallen over the Green Valley and would soon be enveloping Los Angeles Capital as the city slid gently into the shadow of night. The dull glow of the two low flying pirate fighters glinted in the distance, like twin fireflies glistening against the growing darkness. Further along, the sky glowed with the growing night time energy of LA Capital. Millions of lights began to brighten the night as night-goers began to flood into the cities central bars and clubs. Lucas had a growing feeling of dread about what might lay ahead, but he had kept his apprehension to himself as he and Kurt had tailed the two pirate fighters. Now it looked like they were heading into the heart of the city. But where, Lucas couldnt tell. All he could do was sit and wait as they followed their pray into the maze of colours and lights that lay ahead.
---
Jonah Denton scratched his chin as he punched in the code for Sayne Jadyns secure channel. He and his comrade Connor Bysshe had successfully lured the two Freedom Fighter operatives into following them and it was now time to radio through with their progress report. There was a slight buzz as the channel connected before the voice of Sayne Jadyn crackled over the other end of the line.
Denton, what have you got for me?
Results, Denton said with an air of pride. The two FF operatives are following us. They have active stealth fields, so I cant pin point them, but I know they are definitely behind us.
Roger that, good job, Sayne sounded pleased, Ill meet you in the Blue Vibe.
Jonah cut the link and opened a channel with Bysshe. Its all set up, the two Freedom Fighters will be at the mercy of Jadyn within the hour.
So the plan is going ahead, Connors voice replied.
Looks that way, remember to keep it nonchalant. We want to make this look as natural as possible.
I understand the ramifications of it not going to plan full well, Connor said, hinting on Jadyns seemingly uncontrollable wrath.
This will all be over soon, the Tyrant wont remain allies with Jadyn once the Freedom Fighters have been taken care of. Denton cracked his knuckles, Then we can finally be rid of him.
The blast ripped through half of the bulkhead, sending debris and shards of twisted metal scattering in all directions. Alarm klaxons wailed as the hull breech expanded, dragging inanimate objects out into space. Personnel clung for their lives as the harsh suction of the doorway to the void tugged at them. Tyrant Scarman and Brawler Connors sprinted off in the opposite direction, unaffected by the breech thanks to the forcefield that had been instantly erected around the damaged area. This would be their last diversion before they made their escape. A blast in the hull didnt have to be intricate to get the Freedom Fighters attention. If all went to plan, Merlow and his cronies would be too busy trying to save their doomed crewmembers. Connors had been the one who suggested they blast out the doors to one of the loading bays. The crew compliment in that section would be minimal, but he knew that Fleet Admiral Merlow valued the lives of each and every crewmember on board his ship.
The two men skidded around a bend in the corridor and halted at a large maintenance duct. Connors forced it open and revealed the unconscious forms of Victoria Wade and Heather Scarman on the other side. The two had been out cold now for more than an hour, and with nothing but sharp blows to the head to keep them down, Marcus was worried they would be waking up soon.
We need to be quick, Scarman said sharply as Connors slung Wade over his shoulder. They could wake up any time now,
Relax, revered Tyrant, Connors said with a smooth confidence. He grinned at his leader, I have an idea,
Scarman grinned, You should have been in my Elite circle long ago, Pete Connors.
The two men moved swiftly away down the corridor, doubling back around towards the hangar bay.
---
Roughly ten minutes later, Tyrant Scarman and Pete Connors arrived on the hangar bay decking. They had taken a more subtle route around, using a maintenance duct to skirt the main concourse. Connors kicked the hatch open and deftly exited the duct, keeping Wade expertly balanced across his shoulder. Scarman came out after him, the pitiful form of Heather Scarman swaying across his back.
There, Connors said, pointing to a second Thunderhawk resting on the deck several meters away.
Hold on a minute, Marcus said, looking across at the control bay. Here, take her and go over to the dropship.
Connors took the small form of Heather from Marcus without question, turning around and jogging over to the Thunderhawk. Scarman turned the other way and sprinted over to the stairs that lead up to the control room.
Little less than an hour previously, he had rigged up the first Thunderhawk and deployed it as a diversion. This time however he would be flying the real thing. He sprinted up the stairs, drawing a small blaster pistol from beneath his stolen suit jacket. Spinning around on his heel, he surveyed the small control room. Three console operators stared at him blankly for a moment before the penny dropped. One scrambled out of his chair and dove at Scarman, a second sat rooted to the spot in fear. The third, a young woman, screamed in terror and dove for cover behind a row of consoles. Scarecrow fired three, merciless shots, a narrow grin smeared across his face. The first laser bolt struck the attacking engineer squarely in the chest, violently knocking him back down to the deck. The second blast ripped into the engineer still sat at his console. With a yowl, the man tumbled backwards, off his chair. The third shot tore from the blaster with a screech as Marcus calmly tuned his aim on the cowering third engineer. The bolt struck the console, sending sparks skittering in all directions with a deafening crack. Marcus began to chuckle.
The young woman lay with her head pressed into her arms, whimpering uncontrollably. Marcus slowly walked around the back of the console and looked down at her, his head cocked to one side. With a malicious grin, he hauled the woman out of her hiding place by her ankles, throwing her over onto her back. He leveled the blaster at her face, his grin fading to be replaced by a look of pure insanity. Before he could pull the trigger however, he heard yells coming from outside. Turning around, he glanced out of the viewport across the hangar. Connors had already boarded the Thunderhawk, dragging their two captives with him. Over by the entrance, the main double doors had retracted into their berths and an entire team of armed Freedom Fighter Marines was preparing to assault the Thunderhawk. Scarmans blood almost curdled as he saw the lead figure. His defiant alternate self was leading the attack, seemingly armed to the teeth. Admiral Scarman yelled to his comrades before opening fire at an unseen target beneath the Thunderhawk. Connors must be putting up some sort of defense.
Tyrant Scarman thought fast. He glanced across at the controls before him, watching them wink and flash in the dull light. He immediately knew what to do, sitting down in front of the nearest console. He turned to face the quaking engineer on the floor.
Give me the codes for the internal defense network!
Scarecrow took a deep breath, readying himself for the oncoming challenge. His team of marines stood to attention around him, each one handpicked from the Danaans marine core.
Alright, hes got to be in here. Marcus said to his gathered soldiers, The surveillance strips in sector twelve showed them entering the maintenance ducts and there have been no reports of them emerging anywhere else. Plus, now that I feel they have done everything they need to do, this would be the logical place for them to go. Ive radioed through to the Fleet Admiral, who should be here shortly with reinforcements. Any questions?
The gathered marines looked at Marcus blankly, each one ready to give his life for the Admiral.
Youre all excellent troops, Marcus said with pride, Remember he has two hostages, they are a prime priority. Lets get this bastard now and end it here.
The marines saluted smartly before fanning out into a perfect incursion formation.
The large double bulkheads that lead through into the main hangar emitted a loud clank before slowly rolling apart.
Go, go, go! Marcus yelled as he moved forwards, grasping his carbine tightly. Adrenaline flooded through his system, heightening his senses and quickening his heartbeat. It had been a very long time since Marcus had been in open field combat. He had almost forgotten the rush.
Across the hangar bay, a single form was dragging a body up into the bay of the only Thunderhawk on deck. Marcus recognized the man as Connors, the Black Flag Brawler they had captured earlier.
Target! He yelled, dropping to one knee. He fired a short burst into the open gap of the Thunderhawks troop bay, missing Connors by inches as the man flung himself out of harms way.
Watch your fire, captive targets in sight, Marcus yelled as he fired another burst at the Thunderhawk. His men fanned out around the hangar bay, moving with textbook precision. Marcus advanced on the open Thunderhawk, hoping to catch sight of his evil alternate self.
A strange whining noise began somewhere above him, increasing in pitch. He stopped dead and looked up. He stared in horror as two of the internal defense turrets powered up and slid out of their standby positions. The closest one tracked around and trained its ominous pair of barrels on him.
Duck and cover! He yelled and rolled as two turbolaser rounds screeched from the defense turrets barrels and smacked into the deck beside him. The shockwave from the blast knocked him over, sending his carbine skittering across the decking.
Semi-automatic fire sprang up in sporadic clusters all around Marcus as his team began to fire on the defense turrets. Their steel bolts made no scratch on the armored carapace of the turrets however, rendering them useless. Several more screeches rent the air as the second turbolaser fired. The screeches of the energy guns were followed by the screams of humans. Marcus glanced around and saw Major Janice Thorn rolling around on the floor, wailing in agony, her right leg a blackened stump.
AT magazines, Marcus yelled, scrambling up and diving for his carbine, Hit the turrets!
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