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One Shot: Visit, Board, Search and Seizure 1 of 2
🕑 Added 2023-06-30 18:39:55 +0000 UTC"Boarding party to the hangar! Boarding party to the hangar!" A voice blared in rough English throughout the narrow, iron halls of a massive alien frigate. At least it was alien to the Humans on board as they rushed to the armory while the speakers repeated the same message.
Lance Corporal Samuel Blackwood looked up at the intercom as his helmet’s display lit up with a flurry of digital readouts. “Can someone remind me where the hangar is?” he grumbled. Being part of a species that was relatively new to the galactic stage, the man was still unfamiliar with the alien ship.
"The hell if I know." The man to his left, a Private First Class by the name of Ray Jackson, replied while running a hand over his freshly buzz-cut hair "Tauri ships are goddamn labyrinths."
Samuel grunted in agreement as he grabbed his rifle and threw the sling over his shoulder before slapping a magazine into it. Unlike the Humans, Tauri ships were a lot more form than function when it came to their warships and navigating them was akin to deciphering an abstract piece of art. But that wasn’t to say that they weren’t the most deadly pieces of hardware to grace the void, it was just that the Tauri were born from an advanced alien aesthetic that seemed to value harmony and balance over the cold, utilitarian efficiency of most human designs.
"Hey dipshits, shut the fuck up, and get your kit on," chimed in Gunnery Sergeant Baker, with an air of irritation and authority as he briskly walked past the pair. His seasoned eyes flashed an almost imperceptibly dim orange as the internal layout was displayed in his retinas and walked out of the armory.
"Aye, Aye, Gunny," replied Ray, stabbing his sidearm into its holster.
Samuel, who merely rolled his eyes, continued to secure the last of his gear. “Ahh… fuck me...” He sighed as he walked towards the ornate door. “This is what? The 3rd extension of this deployment?”
A laugh left Ray’s mouth as he followed suit. “Hey, at least we get shore leave soon, right?”
"Oh ya! Shore leave! How could I forget!" Samuel responded with his voice oozing with sarcasm. "And the moment we step foot off the ship, I bet Sarn’t Major’s gonna be all like…”
Samuel put his hands on his hip and straightened himself up. “Woah there devil dogs!! I know y’all are hard chargers, so I went ahead and got y’all another assignment.” He said in a deep southern drawl pointing at everyone still in the Armory as they all chuckled. “Now get back on fuckin’ the ship! Got dayum alien’s ain’t gonna kill themselves, Rah?"
A collective, self-deprecating chuckle followed by groans echoed throughout the armory as each Marine checked their weapons and clicked their helmets into place. The harsh reality behind Samuel's light-hearted performance wasn't lost on them, but the humor provided a momentary respite from their shared misery. In the chilling void of space, where their troubles seemed amplified, they found some kind of solace in making fun of their superiors whenever they could..
"Fuckin' A, Sam," came a voice from the back, belonging to a short stocky Marine named Luis. He was checking his helmet seals for the third time, and he shook his head.”I think you hit too close to home with that one…."
Life in the military at that moment in time was nothing but pure pain and suffering if you weren’t the highspeed secret squirrel types. Having spent most of their time as isolationists, the timing of humanity's entry into the larger galactic community could be perceived as both opportune and disastrous. A massive civil war was raging across tens of thousands of star systems, reaching its turbulent climax. In a strange twist of fortune, humanity avoided the destructive, attritional warfare of grand fleet battles in space, but instead found themselves embroiled in the violent, planet by planet, liberation ground campaigns - an arena, it turned out, where humans thrived.
In the aftermath of the war, the interspecies community's security landscape was, at best, precarious and more often than not, lawlessness reigned supreme. The situation became so bad that pirates and unaffiliated Mafia types grew bold enough to operate freely even within the borders of the core systems.
And Into this tumultuous scenario stepped humanity, eager to prove their worth and commitment to interstellar peace. The men and women of the United Terran Systems dedicated a vast majority of their military and law enforcement to filling the vacuum left by the war-torn galactic powers.
However, due to the lack of combat capable vessels, the humans found themselves in more collaborative roles alongside their alien counterparts, rather than leading the charge. This came in the form of a lot of units attaching themselves to Tauri patrol crafts and carried out law enforcement and protection of key supply routes, to Anti-Piracy operations and conducting Freedom of Navigation patrols within more unstable regions of the galaxy.
It wasn’t long until the Marines flooded out of the armory, chasing after their Gunny as he led the way to the hangar. But as they looked around, the Human’s noticed that their host species were equally as frantic while they all ran to their own posts. Groups of Tauri’s - with their towering, red or gray-skinned forms- barreled through the corridors.
“Seems like we’re actually in for some shit…” The Gunnery Sergeant uttered under his breath, watching the usually calm and stoic aliens hustle in near panic.
The Tauri were a proud and powerful race of almost human-like beings that hailed from the far edge of their galactic arm, from a planet called Argura. Much like Humans, they were a bipedal species, exhibiting a stunning diversity in features and boasted skin hues ranging from deep red to stormy gray. But most impressive was the fact that their males towered over everyone else, reaching from seven to eight feet tall. However, upon meeting, both the Humans and Tauri balked at just how similar they were to each other in structure.
Yet, these similarities were complemented by a variety of unique characteristics that clearly distinguished them as alien. Where a Human would expect to see white in one's eyes, the Tauri's sclera held a deep black or gray, with vibrant, glowing irises in striking colors that spanned from the purest of reds to rich, molten golds. And on the side of their heads were long and pointed ears,
Samuel had to admit, a lot of the Tauri were stunningly beautiful, but they were more interested in being rigid and disciplined to have any kind of small talk or trivialities. Sure they were cordial and professional, but that’s ALL they were. The species were usually far more interested in adhering strictly to their deeply rooted honorbound traditions and Aristocratic society.
A derisive sigh left Samuel’s mouth as he ran by a particular female Tauri that seemed a lot more open and liberal, but unfortunately, he had been proven dramatically wrong. Sure she was Liberal by Tauri standards, but he found the woman seemed to be more confused and off base whenever he tried talking her up.
“Ridiculous…” The man sighed as he stepped through a pair of large doors that led straight to the hanger.
Thirty men and women, mostly human, funneled into this colossal assembly area. The hangar was dominated by the presence of a singular Tauri shuttle with its elegant and sleek design that sat right next to two rugged, robust, and functional designs of a human dropships.
“Alright then troop. Gather round.” A British voice resounded as he motioned towards the series of monitors and terminals next to the craft. “It seems we have stumbled upon a known slaving vessel and the Tauri observers are going to be watching this op, so no fooks ups.” The tall, pale skinned man with 1st Lieutenant McNeally paused, letting his words sink in.
“Primary and secondary points are going to the port and starboard air locks.” As he tapped on the terminal, causing a 3D model of a bulky and plain freighter to spin into view..“And we want to hit ‘em at the same time.”
Tapping on a panel once more, the project then transitioned to show the interior of the Star freighter with both of its airlocks highlighted. “Now, I know ya boys already know this, but I have to emphasize it.” The Marine made a chopping motion with his hand as he turned to the rest of his men in the hangar. “Get – the fook – out – of the fatal funnel.” He continued as his gaze swept over the assembled Marines.
He tapped the projection again, and the image zoomed in on the airlock areas, showing a detailed layout of the immediate interior. "As soon as that foothold has been established, we’re gonna blow past, Team one is gonna start movin’ all the way down towards the engine room while Team two hits the bridge.” he continued, highlighting the respective zones for each team. "Now team three, your objective is to immediately start moving to the bowels of the ship and prevent them from spacing their cargo. "
The room was filled with a silent intensity as the teams focused on the holographic blueprint of the freighter. “ISR has confirmed that we’re looking to have 15 or 20 suspected armed enemy on board.” His words made the room slightly tense, but also brought a certain realism to the plan they were staring at. "These aren't fookin’ street thugs, lads," the officer continued, his tone montone. "They’re fookin’ slavers, and LEO intel they pulled suggests that a few of ‘em are possibly even ex-military. They know their ship, and they know we’re comin’ so don’t be fookin’ stupid."
“Now, check your kit and sync with your team leaders. We board in 15 minutes." He ordered, his voice echoing throughout the hanger. "You are to engage with extreme prejudice and remember, check your fire and don’t shoot any of the fookin’ slaves."
With the strategy laid out, the Marines broke off into their respective teams, cross-checking their gear and verifying their weapon systems with an almost casual air. Samuel grumbled under his breath one last time as buddy checked another marine’s equipment to make sure everything was in place and they weren’t going to suffocate in the vacuums of space.
"Alright, you're good." Samuel slapped their back, causing them to turn around and check his equipment. Just above their head, her name, 'Corporal Hana Jeong', hovered in soft green light emanating from her active HUD.
Even though she knew Samuel couldn't see it past her helmet, Hana gave him a half-smile. Her gloved hands moved deftly, checking the seals on his armor with the familiarity of practice. Her eyes, hidden behind the tinted visor, flicked over the digital readouts that danced across its surface, ensuring everything was as it should be. "You're all clear, Sam," she finally confirmed, her voice steady despite the adrenaline beginning to prick at her nerves. She gave him an approving nod, her head barely tilting in the weightless environment.
Acknowledging her with a nod, Samuel readjusted his rifle. "Thanks, Hana," he replied through their proximity network, his attention already shifting. Together, they fell in line with the rest of their team, each member clad in similar tactical gear.
Meanwhile, a total of 45 Marines stood, single file in a relaxed manner as they chatted amongst themselves, discussing whether this was going to be another empty hole or if they were going to see combat again. In stark contrast to the casualness to their Human counterparts, a pair of Tauri observers stood off to the side, their expressions betraying their disapproval. This was the humans' first stint aboard this particular ship, and it was clear that the Tauri were unaccustomed to their more relaxed approach to military decorum.
Intriguing as it was disturbing to the Tauri observers, the relaxed chatter and lack of structured protocol amongst the humans contrasted starkly with their own strict military decorum. There were no formal salutes, no stiffly delivered orders, and their stance lacked the taut readiness so common in the Tauri fleet. Instead, they casually checked their gear, laughed and joked among themselves, their ease belying the deadly seriousness of the impending mission.
The Tauri observers, a male and female, stood somewhat apart, shared whispered exchanges and furtive glances. Their furrowed brows and tightened lips showed their dissatisfaction as they evaluated the human warriors through their own lens of understanding. Their pointed looks might have gone unnoticed by the Marines, but the underlying judgment was unmistakable.
The male observer, an imposing figure who dwarfed most of the humans by nearly a foot, decided to voice his concerns directly. With long, determined strides, he moved towards the human officer, ready to address the perceived lack of discipline.
His words, however, were instantly swallowed by a sudden cacophony. With a deafening roar, the engines of the dropships ignited, casting an eerie glow over the hangar. The atmospheric transformation was instantaneous. The casual banter amongst the Marines tapered off, replaced by a focused silence that was almost as loud as the din of the engines as the officer made a circular motion with his fingers, causing all of the squads to march towards their designated crafts.
Even the mighty Tauri observer could do nothing but pause mid-step. Momentarily taken aback by the abrupt transition, both of the beings shook their heads and separated. The launch sequence had commenced, and it was far too late for doubts or objections, they were just going to have to trust that the Human’s weren’t going to get them killed.
A hope the two Tauri didn’t have as they cursed their own fate.
After a moment of suspended tension, the dropships roared to life, thrusters igniting with a force that reverberated through the ship and straight into the very bones of its passengers. The sudden shift in momentum pressed them back against their seats, a gravitational force that, despite its familiarity, still caused a collective intake of breath among the occupants. Samuel couldn't help but steal a glance at the female Tauri observer strapped across from him, curious to see how she was handling the launch of what she must have considered was a brutal and primitive coffin.
The Tauri, renowned for their stoicism, had expressions that were normally inscrutable. But now, under the harsh lights of the dropship, the female observer's face revealed a flicker of anxiety underneath the translucent glass of her helmet. Her eyes, usually a vivid violet, had dulled, and her knuckles had discolored around the grips of her seat. Despite her evident unease, there was a certain determination in her stance, a refusal to show any more weakness than she already had.
A ghost of a smirk tugged at Samuel's lips as he entertained the thought of this observer joining them for a planetary drop. In his mind, the scenario played out with a vividness that almost made it seem real: the observer, usually composed and dignified, losing all semblance of her dignity and screaming bloody murder all the way down. The very thought of her experiencing the terrifying thrill of hurtling down towards a planet like a meteor as anything and everything was shot at you seemed to amuse him to no end.
But his day dreaming was short-lived, as the network snapped to life, bringing him back into the reality of their impending mission. "One minute," the pilot announced.
As the countdown began, the cabin buzzed with an almost tangible energy. Marines racked the slides of their weapons to make sure there was a round in it and performed final checks on the rest of their gear. The air was electric with anticipation and tension, but also with a sense of excitement and glee.
If there was one thing the Marines loved, it was violence.
Through it all, the Tauri observer remained remarkably still, clutching her own weapon as well as checking her own personal life support system. Samuel couldn't help but wonder how she was taking all of this in - whether the experience was as alien and unsettling for her as their military procedures had been for him.
“Thirty seconds” The voice crackled over the network one more time.
Shifting his attention back to his gear, Samuel took a deep breath, pushing his musings to the back of his mind. There would be time later for idle thoughts and amusement. For now, they had a mission to complete - and Samuel was equally as eager to get some.
Without warning, the dropship lurched violently as its thrusters engaged, rapidly reorienting itself for the impending docking maneuver. The sensation of gravity gradually began to fade as the ship's artificial gravity was systematically shut down. The sudden change made the stomachs of even the most seasoned Marines momentarily churn as they engaged the locking setting on their boots, snapping them tightly to the ship.
Amidst it all, the Tauri observer seemed to grow even more rigid in her seat, if that were possible. Her eyes were fixed on the digital readouts on her visor, hands gripped even tighter around her seat's arms. It was a sight that was hard to ignore, her anxiety serving as a stark contrast to the calm demeanor of the Humans around her.
“10 meters.”
But there was no time to dwell on it. The sudden shift in orientation was the signal they had been waiting for. The Marines were quick to unbuckle their restraints and rise to their feet and oriented themselves to the docking door while gripping the handles on the roof.
“5 meters”
As the Tauri observer undid her own harness, the humans closest to the door raised their weapons and trained their sights on the soon-to-be breached entrance. The atmosphere was electric, their eyes sharp and their bodies tense, ready to react at a moment's notice.
“1 meter”
A sudden metallic thunk resounded through the dropship as it docked onto the freighter, followed by an abrupt shudder that ran through both vessels. The breaching charges had detonated, creating an entry point through sheer force. As the docking door hissed open, two marines promptly grabbed a pair of cylindrical objects from their belts and, with a practiced swing of their arms, sent them flying into the newly breached opening.
The Tauri observer, standing at the rear of the group, watched the scene unfold with intense eyes. The thrown objects, she recognized from her earlier dossier, were flashbangs - non-lethal grenades used by the Marines to disorient the enemy. And a few beats later, several loud bangs echoed through the hatch, followed by bright flashes that temporarily lit up the interior of the freighter.
This was the Marines' cue. Without missing a beat, the pointmen, followed closely by the contingent behind them, surged forwards with their weapons pointed at their own designated sectors.
CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK
“GO, GO, GO, GO, GO!! GET THE FUCK IN THERE!” Gunnery Sergeant Baker shouted out as the iconic sounds of the Humans chemical based weapons echoed throughout both the freighter and docking ship. His gloved hand firmly on Samuel's back, he pushed him forward towards the gaping breach. Simultaneously, he marked a location on the squad's network-wide HUD. “FAR SIDE! GO TO THE FAR SIDE!” he ordered, pointing towards the distant side of the T-shaped hallway.
Samuel held his weapon aloft as he moved, its muzzle pointed skyward to avoid any premature discharges into any of his friends' backs. Not until he cleared the so-called 'Fatal-Funnel' of the docking entrance did he level his weapon, eyes scanning for any potential threats.
Another volley of gunfire rang out, the Marines sending a few more rounds into the already downed aliens for good measure after seeing the weapons near their hands. Confident in their demise, they advanced towards the designated areas and towards the storage area.
Pushing forward and towards the marked area, Samuel sprinted through the breach and raised his weapon with his fellow Marines trailing directly behind him. He maintained a laser-like focus on the corridor ahead, waiting for any enemy to pop their heads out of any of the doors.
"One door left, two doors right!" Samuel relayed over the fire team's network, his voice firm and focused as they navigated the labyrinthine hallways. According to their intel, this was the route to the slave quarters. Hana was at his side, her weapon trained on the same stretch of dim corridor. They moved methodically, their pace deliberately slowed to maintain control of their advance.
CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK
Suddenly, a humanoid figure peaked out into their line of sight at the corridor's end, pointing a weapon at the marines and without hesitation, both Samuel and Hana let loose a volley of rounds. The figure reeled back, struck by their combined fire, and disappeared from sight.
“Work it, Sam!” Hana shouted, her voice cracking through the static over the comms.
Sam pushed forward with Ray right behind him before pivoting towards the first door on the left. Running ahead of him, Luis placed a circular device in front of the door, just over the electronic locking mechanism and ran to the back of the stack. Tapping on a datapad strapped the underside of his forearm, the door automatically and quickly hissed open and in went another flashbang.
As the room lit up once more with another series of blinding flashes, Samuel darted forward, his weapon poised and ready for any lurking threats. A figure at the back of the room came into view - a creature with a large bulbous head shielding its eyes with one hand, while its other hand pointed a pistol-like weapon towards the doorway.
The creature discharged several rounds, sending plasma bolts searing through the air towards the door. But Samuel, being a seasoned marine, had only a fraction of his body exposed to the incoming fire.
CRACK CRACK CRACK
Honed through years of rigorous training, Samuel directed three rapid shots towards the creature's face. His bullets found their mark, snapping the alien’s head back and spraying brain matter behind it. It almost seemed as if the creature's string were cut as it just immediately collapsed to the floor. Samuel however, still had a job to do and a half second later, he slid his rifle slightly off his shoulder to give it more clearance through the opening and hooked left.
With his weapon still aimed forward, Samuel quickly pivoted to the far left corner of the room, his point of domination. Without a moment's hesitation, he squeezed off a volley from his rifle, the echoing retort reverberating through the room. A figure that had been hiding behind a makeshift barricade of a chair in the corner jerked violently as the rounds hit. Whatever it was clutching fell from its grasp, clattering loudly onto the floor. In the next instant, the being slumped, lifeless, against the wall.
Suddenly, the room erupted into a volley of gunfire as the rest of the team flooded into the room. Ray had taken the opposite route around the room, and had also engaged another target while the two marines behind him engaged made sure whoever was on the floor was dead. Samuel pivoted, his boots squeaking on the metallic floor, as he reassessed the room with his weapon flowling his gaze. In a matter of seconds, they had neutralized the threats, the room now eerily quiet, save for the muffled echoes of gunfire throughout the ship.
"Clear!" Samuel barked into his comms, his gaze sweeping over the room one final time.
“Clear!” Hana’s voice echoed back in the room opposite of his own.
