[h1]Serin & Clara[/h1] [i]Outremer, planetside. City outskirts. Condition unknown.[/i] ------- Serin and Clara both clambered into the back of the waiting dropship, squeezing past the artefact mounting to sit in hot seats. The gunny entered last, shouting orders as he strapped in and locked a bulky shotgun into the slot beside him Clara checked the clock - two minutes to FTL exit. Engine noise in the hangar grew to a thunderous roar. When Serin addressed her, Clara tapped her ear and mouthed I CAN’T HEAR YOU. Serin switched to her neural implant. “Run through the plan again. I want to make sure you remembered it.” “Serin, I have near perfect recall on both imagery and verbal data. If you want, I can recite the serial number of the pad you showed me Outremer’s topography on.” “No thanks. Humour me with the plan, please.” Serin looked nervous inside her helmet. Clara suspected the NID operator wasn’t happy with the ‘fast and loose’ nature of their mission. It had all come about so quickly; they hadn’t been scheduled to approach Outremer for another two weeks. But when the planetary administration made contact with an unidentified species that quickly turned out to be hostile, the mission became the Naval Intelligence Division's top priority. Initial reports had postulated that the device they were being sent to retrieve contained charts which looked suspiciously like Outer Systems fleet movements and planet positions. Clara was almost certain the Outremer lab technicians assigned to study the device had no idea what they were dealing with. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on it, despite the spine chilling threat of danger hanging over them right now. “Fine. Once the coast is clear, we’ll land at the closest available spaceport to the device. This would be call sign OTC-33971, otherwise known as DuPont Intersystem, located in Outremer’s capital city. From there, we’ll proceed by truck to the downtown police HQ, where the device is being kept. Once we’re there, i’ll begin my initial analysis while you get me and it out of the city and back to the ship.” “Good. Don’t forget the explosives we need to wire up to it in case we fall to the enemy.” “I’m not planning on dying today, Serin.” They shared a wry smile. “I’ll try my best, Clara. Just try not to shoot me in the back with the pistol I gave you.” “FTL exit, imminent.” The Galahad’s AI chimed neatly over the engine noise. “Hold on to your hats, ladies!” The gunnery sergeant shouted to himself. The jump lifted them into the air, slammed them against their belts and then back into their seats at high speed. Clara immediately threw up. Her suit opened to let the refuse out, then rippled so the mess slid down onto the floor. Almost immediately, klaxons started sounding in the hangar. “Hangar doors opening. Launch in 30 seconds.” The ship’s AI announced. Serin opened a secure comm link to The Galahad’s bridge. “Captain, how are we looking?” There was a moment’s pause before Captain Cross responded. “I won’t lie to you ma’am, it doesn’t look good. Salient Blue Team has already launched. Find them and stick to them, they’ll know what to do. Cross, out.” He disconnected. “Launch.” The ship’s AI announced. Serin & Clara were pushed back into their seats again as the troop transports in Hangar 2 all left The Galahad’s Glare and headed for Outremer. The hull rattled and hummed as they entered the cold vacuum of space. The dozen people seated around the asset’s circular mount began checking their gear and making their peace. Something about Captain Cross’s voice had unsettled Serin. What could he see? She used her NID access chain to piggyback on the fleet’s command network. Her wrist module projected a small three dimensional model of Outremer and its moon in front of her eyes. The OSN fleet appeared as blue shapes a few hundred thousand klicks from the surface. A large swarm of unidentified craft showed up in red, a quarter of the way around the planet’s orbit. Some of the dots were rapidly making their way towards the fleet. She accessed bridge comms for one of the fleet’s vanguard ships, heavy destroyer OSN Beowulf, and listened in. “No effect on target, ma’am.” “Fire the MAC again.” “Point defence vectors 2 and 3 have been disabled, boarders are-” “Helmsman, initiate starboard helix - bring us in line with Hrothgar and Aethelred now!” “Energy projectors impacting the engine block! Output down to 70%!” “They’re in Engineering! Seal the bridge right-” Serin accessed the helmet cam of Sergeant Mathias Larssen aboard the Beowulf to find him engaged in a heated firefight along with the rest of his platoon. Tall, heavily armoured humanoids lumbered through the smoke towards their position behind a stack of crates. Some were firing energy weapons and some appeared to be wielding large hammers and scythes. “What kind of sick fucks bring blunt force weapons to a gunfight in space?” Serin muttered angrily. The creatures could’ve passed for humans in advanced, outlandish armour if not for their guttural, throaty battle cries. They were louder than any human could produce unaided, and accessed a much larger voice range. Serin watched, transfixed, as one of the statuesque warriors rushed Larssen’s position, swatted the combat shotgun from his grasp and punched him right in the face. The camera feed disappeared. Their transport was in the atmosphere now - Serin could feel the pressure of their re-entry fading. “Get tactical, marines! Dupont Intersystem space port is five minutes out!” The gunnery sergeant yelled, getting data straight from the transport’s cockpit. Serin did the same, opening a scan of the immediate area, command data streaming from Dupont’s ATC tower and topside exterior cameras. The spaceport sat on the outskirts of Outremer’s largest city, Edessa. It comprised a series of landing bays for smaller craft and outdoor landing cradles for medium sized vessels. These were connected to gleaming white terminal buildings. Districts of cheap, ugly accommodation blocks and sprawling factories surrounded it. As they came in closer, Serin could see thousands of ant-sized people running toward the space port. The blue light of energy weapons lit up the mass of bodies. “OTC-33971, this is KRGG-19 requesting permission to dock.” the transport’s pilot opened up on the team channel “We’re under attack! Pad 42 is free - please help us!” came the frantic reply from the ATC tower. “Copy that. We’ll do what we can. On approach n-” The transport hold erupted into flames. Serin could scarcely push Clara back into her seat before they were flipped upside down and yanked against their seatbelts. “WE’RE HIT! BRACE, BRACE.” The pilot shouted as everyone started yelling and the hold filled with smoke and fire. “GOING IN HOT, HOLD ON!” The hold was ripped apart and Serin could see grey sky and concrete flying past her before something hit her head and everything went black.