It was amazing the difference proper equipment made. The previous visit to the aqueduct had been a panicked flight in awkward native garb. Now, clad in her armor and helmet and with her gear sealed in a waterproof carry bag, Junebug was keyed up and ready for action. Quetzalli crouched close beside her, the native woman’s eyes wide and enthusiastic as always. Junebug was not convinced that it was wise to bring the girl but a translator might be essential in the hours ahead. Carefully  she scanned, the green and blue pastel landscape of the forest on infrared. It was surprising how easy it was to get used to being able to see in the dark and how subtlety disconcerting it was to lose that ability.

“All set,” Junebug declared, “Taya you sill reading me?”

“Yes… I mean copy you loud and clear Junebug,” the girl responded. Zalli jumped a little, unused to the the radio earpiece they had given her. It was a risk but given the odds against them she wanted everyone on the net. Taya was sitting in the gun jeep on a ridge, the highest point between the Highlander and the Village, about three clicks to the east. The girl had understandable concerns about the wildlife but Junebug had assured her that the odds of the predators attacking a tonne of unfamiliar smelling metals and plastics was low. Even if they tried it the motion detectors would give the girl plenty of time to cut loose with the flechette gun Junebug had given her. Taya would act as a final piece of backup if things got completely desperate. If they had to call the jeep in it meant things had gone so badly wrong they were not likely to be survivable. 

“Well,” Junebug began, checking her mission clock on her helmets HUD, “Lets get too it.”

They moved through the aqueduct without incident, the passage much easier on the downward journey and with proper gear for lighting. The trio carefully emerged from the well to find the building empty. There was a smell of death in the air from outside and Junebug carefully peered out onto the field at the base of the ziggurat. Torches blazed every few feet and perhaps twenty five bodies were laid out on beds of some sort of local timber. Their eyes had been covered with flowers and a symbol had been carved into each of their bare chests.

“Bury for war men,” Zalli commented in her broken galactic, surprising Junebug. It wasn’t the strangest funerary rite she had seen. There were places they ritually ate the dead afterall. Most of the activity seemed to be on the west end of the village where a crowd was assembled around a massive bonfire, chanting and swaying. It was hard to make out on thermal but Junebug thought she could see a figure in front of the fire haurranging the crowd.

“Zalli stay here and keep out of sight, Neil you take the east side,” she told him unzipping her watertight bag and handing him a satchel of charges.

It took about fifteen minutes to place enough explosives to get the job done. In shape as she was Junebug was sweating when she rendevouz with Neil and Zalli at the well. Carefully she unfolded her plasma rifle and checked the sights.

“Alright Neil,” ill circle to the north and cover you. 

“Good luck you two.”
[@POOHEAD189]