Clean-up never goes smoothly

The shuttle hummed through the air, trees rapidly giving way to waves beneath them as they skimmed out across the ocean. It was a bit of a roundabout route to the Fractal facility, but heading out on this wide curving arc would ensure they remained out of sight of the moving armies back on land and thus not run the risk of changing the time and place of the impending battle to one less advantageous for their forces.

Behind Dustin, the pair of butterfly folk that had joined the mission were sitting bolt upright in their seats, crossbows clutched in their laps and a look of reverent terror on their faces as the view from the craft’s windows changed to one of nothing but the sea beneath them while they banked around. Bleu glanced at pair, then looked down at her scanner before shrugging. Clearly, whatever level of stress the locals were under, it wasn’t enough to merit medical intervention, so Dustin opted to bow to the Queri’s judgment and focused on the mission ahead.

“Final checks. As soon as we land we deploy the charge and blow an entry hole into the base. From there, we’ve got a winding path through; anything that isn’t us is hostile and we are on a shoot-first, ask-questions later approach this time. I don’t want any deaths on our side, people; watch your corners, keep an eye on your friends.” Dustin swept an eye over the assembled squad as the shuttle headed in for an autopilot landing. “Last time we hit one of these facilities, they came at us with anything to hand. This time, they’re dug in and prepared. Assume every door or corridor is dangerous and potentially trapped, and move with caution.”

Gesturing to the locals, he added a command for them specifically. “Stay in the middle of the group; we have gifts from the vanishing one to help us find her fallen kin, but they are beyond your ability to use. Thus, you need to remain where you will not wander into a trap by accident. If we start firing in a direction however, you are to join in even if you can’t actually see a target. They are not called vanishing ones for nothing.”

The squad gave a range of nods and noises of agreement, and the two locals did their best to look brave as the shuttle landed. As the doors opened, four of Dustin’s group were already up and moving, carrying a heavy barrel strapped to poles slung between them. While he’d have liked to be involved with every risky part of this mission himself, he was smart enough to leave managing explosives to the experts - in this case, demolitions-trained members of Yril’k’s security team. The Vex’ess warrior in question was in the process of sharpening the edge of one of her blade-arms. The biological weapon needed regular if rare maintenance Dustin knew, but he suspected she was just going through the motions to be on the safe side this time given the metallic nature of what was lurking under the grassy hillside just in front of them.

A moment later and the demolitions team darted back into the lee of the shuttle before one of them lit the long taper he’d been reeling out. Sparks zipped across the grass in a wonderful rainbow of light, looking like nothing more than the world’s largest sparkler - and then the flame reached the barrel of powder. With a deep barking retort, the barrel and an appreciable chunk of the hillock vanished upwards in a rising tongue of flame.

“Move’k” Yril’k barked the order, and the group dove for the breach into the Fractal compound. Inside the mound, things were a mess. The normally sterile environment of the Fractals was coated in dust and dirt from the explosion, the edges of the metal bent and buckled by the **** of the blast. The exterior walls had been sturdy; even with the size of the detonation they’d caused, Dustin and his team still had quite a narrow entrance into the pitch-dark interior.

Torchlight lit jagged shards of metal that made way for smooth flooring as they headed deeper, several of the crew with hand scanners sweeping the path in front of them with the devices tuned to the frequencies Defia had indicated were most likely to pick up on both movement of defenders and activating traps. They were thankful for it almost immediately, as Yril’k held up a hand from the front of the group before reaching out gingerly to tap the floor with one chitin blade. Pitch black spikes shot upwards, forming a wall of **** as the Vex’ess woman withdrew her blade arm carefully.

Passing the trap required several minutes work with the large hammers that some of the team were carrying; technically, they could have used electromagnets to disrupt the trap’s cohesion but doing so might have given their advanced technology away - so smashing things with a big mallet it was. The next trap emerged from the ceiling as they rounded a corner - a turret of some kind that disintegrated under a hail of repeater-crossbow fire. Dustin nodded appreciatively to the two locals, they’d sensed the movement in the air and reacted on instinct before any of the scanner-bearers could call a warning. “Good shooting’k.” Yril’k commented, leading the group past the smoking wreckage of the turret and on to the first door they’d encountered.

Without Defia to handwave it open, cracking the iris doorways took time. Cutting a hole in the wall, then pouring in a charge and backing off before blowing the lock in order to cause the circular doorplates to fall away wasn’t that difficult a task - but each door they came to needed the same careful process as they continued deeper into the dark abyss of the compound. It was on the sixth room that things started to go downhill; as the charge popped, the door fell back not to reveal an empty corridor like the previous occasions but to reveal a pair of dark spiked Fractal drones, each holding long cylindrical weapons that flashed disturbingly bright in the gloom of the tunnel.

Rounds splashed the walls around the party, the Fractal projectiles exploding on impact as Dustin and his team made a hurried retreat. Two of their number had been clipped by their foes’ first volley, including one of the two butterfly folk. Grimacing as Yril’k gave the order to return fire, Dustin checked over the injuries before making a decision. “Get to the surface, Bleu’s waiting.” He ordered, indicating for one of the uninjured security staff to go with the walking wounded. With the trio starting to make their slow way topside, he unslung his weapon and added it’s rattle to the firepower they were deploying against the Fractals.

The remaining crossbow wielding member of the team huddled down against the wall, gripping his weapon tightly. Dustin wasn’t sure if it was trauma or biding his time until the man unfolded, twisting his weapon around the wall and loosing a bolt down the tunnel. The projectile struck one of the Fractals in the centre of it’s body; whether by aim or luck didn’t matter as the seconds hesitation it caused the creature between the impact and diving into cover was enough for a wave of pulse-carbine rounds to strike home.

With the aftermath still sparking from it’s ally, the remaining Fractal began to run towards the group, limbs scrabbling inhumanly as it moved along the walls and ceiling, the moving target it presented far harder for the team to focus fire on. Rounds still smashed into it regardless; it lost one limb, then another, new ones reforming as it’s core mass thinned with chunks being blown away by what shots the team could manage to land. Yril’k’s eyes widened as the thing grew closer; with a sudden cry of alarm, she shoved Dustin back towards the rest of the squad and leaped towards the creature, blade arms extended. The two figures collided in mid-air, twisting for a moment from the **** of the Vex’ess warrior’s impact - and then the Fractal exploded.

Fire lashed down the corridor; Dustin did his best to shield their one remaining local fighter from the wave, his personal shield sparking as it registered the temperature spike. The instant the flames died he spun, already running to where Yril’k’s form lay groaning on the floor.

The blast had cracked her exoskeleton badly; she struggled to rise but dropped back down before Dustin could reach her. Her uniform had been completely scorched off, and Dustin felt sick as she tilted her head and he saw the full extent of her wounds. “Captain’k… I apologise for this’k…” she started to say before his expression silenced her. Turning towards the shocked staff behind him, he gestured to the four strongest among them. “Get her to Bleu, now. Emergency protocols. Run!” As the team moved forward to assist, Dustin pulled a pair of rods from his belt - an afterthought he’d gotten Rye to make for him - and shook them out. A moment later, pale blue light connected the two - an emergency grav-stretcher - and he helped the security **** gingerly lift their commander on to it before they started to make their way to the surface.

Turning to the remnants of the team, Dustin considered his options. With seven members of their group and Yril’k having already left, he was left with only a handful of security staff and the single remaining local. Grimacing, he gestured through the open iris. “We have another three levels to go down. There might be more of them, and they might try more suicide attacks. We’re damn lucky that the blast didn’t overheat the powder in the packs or we’d have been sitting on a fireball. I want these bastards dead, but I’m not going to ask you to follow me this reduced in number. I’m putting it to a vote. Move on, or regroup and resupply?”