The Cost of War (part 1)
10 Apr 2016Jubei Himura
Initializing CHoI decryption..... Done.
CHoI system check: Memory..... OK. CPU..... OK. UI-Link..... OK.
Starting entry recording from memory scan...
Date: 14-03-3302
Location: HIP 35531 - King Dock. "You were the one floating in the black." Noxa laughed as he put the bourbon to his lips. "What the hell did you think would happen? 'No one would notice a random Eagle sticking to the under-belly of their own Corvette'?"
. "That was the idea..." I say sheepishly, slamming back a cup of sake. "Damn, were we lucky that Dublicious was around to pick us up."
. "No, YOU'RE lucky I plan ahead." he put down his drink down and turned to me with a serious look on his face. "Seriously though, you wanna tell me about what happened back there? I mean, it was like there was a whole other pers-"
. "Look," I put down the empty cup. "even I don't know what exactly happened. The mission's accomplished, the war's over, and that's that. Flettner wanted to give us medals."
. "Viscount von Flettner wanted to give you a boot in the ass!"
. "I'd like to see him try."
. "Goddammit Jubei! That's what pissed him off in the first place, that shit attitude of yours. You've been cleared of wh-"
. "Enough! Look, sorry OK? I just... don't want to think about it. Besides..." I pause to get off my chair and turn toward the door.
. "...I can't change what's been done."
...moving to previous memory...
Subject: HIP 35531 WAR - Empire Patronage vs. Communist Worker's Union
Intel Report: The recently exiled federal corporation lead by Douglas Drumpè has been telling lies about the future availability of jobs to the Worker's Union. This sparked a mislead uprising that lead to all out war. Now the Worker's Union falsely believe that the incoming Imperial Patronage is going to slash jobs and commit the unemployed workers to slavery.
Mission: Gather evidence to clear the Imperial Patronage's reputation. Eliminate Douglas Drumpè and the ship commander. Bring all findings and kill confirmation back to Viscount von Flettner.. This had better work... otherwise, if we survive, I'll never hear the end of it.
. "Stealth-mode activated, we are running silent." I report, looking over my shoulder to Noxa. "Check your equipment while I set her down."
. "Right. Remember, our primary targets are both the ship commander and the man in charge: Douglas Drumpè." he said as he sheathed his last dagger.
. We confiscated a Union-owned Eagle back at King Dock so that we could fly without drawing attention to us in the Union occupied areas of the system. An Eagle usually has only one seat in the cockpit but, we fashioned a secondary seat into it for this mission... safety first and all that. It's a very agile and maneuverable ship that kinda makes me miss my old one.
. Our targets are observing their handywork from HIP 35531 5, nowhere near the combat-zones of the war they started. Bastards even fly in a Federal Corvette, a large and powerful design by Core Dynamics. Good thing it has a blind spot to it's stern and underbelly. I steer the ship around the planet and come out of supercruise roughly 15km from the back of the Corvette and double-check the silent running systems on the Eagle. Everything checks out and we haven't been spotted yet so I slow the ship to a leisurely pace. Keeping out of anyone's line of sight from the hangar bay, I rotate the ship to land on the underbelly using specialized magnetic pads on the bottom of the landing gear. With a soft thud, the ship attaches to the hull and we float to the airlock to make preparations for the ensuing space walk. Thankfully our boots have the same magnetic tech as the ship so we can safely travel along the outer hull, but it effects our suit's stealth technology while it's on.
. Noxa opens the airlock and we head out. The going is slow, but that's to be expected out in space. We have sixty-five meters from where we latched-on to the hanger bay, and I hate long walks. The plan's simple: wait for a ship to arrive or leave and sneak through the protective atmospheric shielding while the blast doors are open, then activate the specialized H.E. suit's stealth camo (so we don't get spotted) and meet up at the rendezvous point behind a storage container. After that, it's all about getting to the targets, sabotaging the Corvette and getting back to the Eagle for extraction before we cook in the ensuing explosion. Simple.
. Just another day at the office for a Chaperhouse Inquisitor.
. The blast doors start to open and we hit the deck. There was no sight of a ship approaching, so one must be leaving. A messenger perhaps? It doesn't matter, we need to get to the hanger before they decide to close those doors. We pick ourselves back up and hurry our pace as we see a Sidewinder-class ship leave the bay. I climb up into the bay through the shield. My body feels like pins and needles as I pass through, but that quickly disappears as soon as I'm on deck. Stealth camo activates and the soliton radar on my helmet's HUD pings six bodies within the hanger - including Noxa and myself. Luckily, the enemy isn't anywhere near the rendezvous point. I get to the storage container first and check for Noxa's position.
. "I'm behind you." he says as he calls up the 3D schematics to the Corvette. The man's all-business in the field. Noxa's stealth camo deactivates and he materializes from being a man-shaped optical distortion back to full opacity due to the interference from the 3D projection. Mine is being effected as well so I decide to turn my own stealth off to conserve power.
. "Douglas has to be on the bridge. I'll have to go through security to get there so... that will be a fight." I point out the obvious. A sudden thought kreeps into my head. "I don't want to fight any of the workers."
. "Everyone on this ship is a PMC soldier and they are fully aware of what is going on." Noxa turned toward the door to the hall. "They chose to follow Douglas, and they won't hesitate to kill us if we're spotted. Use of deadly force is authorized... and encouraged. Don't feel bad for offing a few of them, just be nice and make it quick."
. I nod as I reactivate my stealth. The hallway doors are a couple of meters away and the posted guards are making their rounds. Thankfully, they are walking away from the doors and toward the control room. We make a dash for the doors, being as light on our feet as possible. The doors open as we near and we make it though into the hallway. Federal Corvettes are big and confusing, but this is why we studied the schematics. We run down the hall, two lefts, a right, and we see the main lift with two guards standing on either side.
. Suddenly I hear the air being cut with a fwip as Noxa lets a couple of throwing knives fly. They hit home, landing right in between the eyes of both guards on the right. I draw my high-frequency blade and slash at the remaining guards with a wide arc. The blade cuts through both men and they fall to the floor with a sickening thud, nearly bisected. I swear I saw something in one of the guard's eyes the instant before his death. I can't put my finger on it though and it's bothering me. Can't let that distract me though, I have a mission to complete.
. We hide the bodies in a utility closet that's conveniently nearby. There's little to no blood due to nature of my blade. When energized, a high-frequency blade vibrates at such a high rate that it acts like a plasma blade (including a glowing hue) and cauterizes wounds instantly. HF blades (as they are also known as) are made of a special metal called 'vibranium' that is resistant extreme temperatures. That feature allows it to withstand a battle with a plasma blade and even defend against blaster fire. Hattori clan blades are made with a variation of vibranium called 'vibrahagane' and are very similar to the Katana swords of Earth's feudal-era Japan.
. "I'll head to Engineering as planned, you distract security." Noxa said as he shut the door to the utility closet. "I'll need ten minutes."
. "Roger. I'll keep 'em off of you." I reply.
. We both activate our stealth at the same time and head to our destinations. Noxa runs down the hallway and I get in the lift. The lift's music is making me consider the pros and cons of cutting off my own ears and I'm starting to wonder if they know that we're aboard. Guess I'll know soon enough, I'm about to make one hell of a stage entrance.
. The lift slows to a stop and the doors open. Showtime.
. The area I stand in is a security check for bridge access. Main reception and weapons scan to my front, a few tables with for writing out forms sit against the walls. There are six uniformed soldiers around talking to one another in uneasy tones around the reception desk. Funny how no one has noticed the distorted, displaced air where I stand. They must not expect a direct attack, or at least not from aboard their own ship. Their lack of readiness is my advantage though. I take a deep breath and turn off my stealth.
. "Good morning gentlemen! I'm your new exercise and combat trainer. I will be conducting a readiness test immediately." I say with a smile (they can't see it of course) and a cheerful tone. Within the span of a breath I change my demeanour to frighteningly serious, "Failure, means death."
. With that statement, I draw my pistol and fire at the closest soldier. The blaster round hits home between the eyes and brain matter sprays on the soldier next to him, who is reaching for his pistol in shock of the gruesome act that happened inches from his face. Unfortunately the second soldier is slow and takes a blaster round to the right shoulder and, a fraction of a second later, his chest. His body falls to the floor as the others fire wildly back at me. I leap over a table and knock it over (for what little cover it could provide) while the blaster fire zooms past my head.
. To my surprise the blasts aren't making holes in the table. Looking over my shoulder, I see that the tables are made of a metal alloy. I should have remembered that most furniture on the Corvettes are made out of similar material to increase longevity. There's a brief pause in the shooting and I peek out slightly to see the remaining soldiers reloading. Two behind the desk and two in front. Terrible tactics. The training must have been lazy here, all but one ready their weapon at the hip while the last knows enough to aim down the sights. However, that gives me a tactical advantage in this fight.
. Another pause in the shooting and I spring into action. Diving to the floor, I take aim at the two in front and shoot them both in the head. The remaining two soldiers have finished reloading and are readying their weapons. Two blaster shots land close to them on the reception desk and they flinch, leaving me enough time to aim my gun and shoot. Both blasts hit their targets and the remaining soldiers fall to the ground in a lifeless heap.
. As I check my remaining ammo in my gun's magazine I notice a flashing light on the belt of the better trained soldier. It's his comm, so I'm about to have company. Okay, eleven rounds left for the next wave. Where are they coming from, past the checkpoint or from the lift? I hear a small ding and I sigh it's the lift.
. The lift doors open and I jump behind the reception desk as I hear the hissing sound of smoke grenades being dropped. After a few seconds I faintly see three soldiers file out of the lift. These soldiers hold their weapons up to their faces, always looking down the barrel, through scopes. I can guess that the scopes are inferred or thermal because their movements aren't hindered by the smoke. These guys are professionals, PMCs rank them as 'elites'.
. Well, at least I'm giving Noxa plenty of time. I grab a pistol off one of the dead soldiers and toss it across the room to distract the three elites closing in on my position. The weapon hits the ground and two of them turn to look for a brief second. The third however, points his weapon in the opposite direction of the noise.
. "Desk!" the third shouts and they open fire on my position.
. The desk may be thick but it won't last long against this volley of concentrated blaster fire. I roll to the side to avoid any fire from possible holes that may have been created from their shooting. It was a strategic mistake to dive behind the desk, I'm pinned down. Every door on this side of the desk shows red lights on the panels, meaning they require a keycard and I don't see one on any of the bodies.
. There isn't any slowdown in their shooting, just times when I hear less blaster fire. They must be reloading in succession. Smart. I'll have to create my own opportunity. Against three well trained elites I'll likely get hurt, so I need to increase my odds of success. As I look for anything that could help, the blaster-fire finally punches through the desk's plating about one meter away from me.
. Thinking quickly, I slap the flat of my blade against the hole. I can hear the blasts hitting my sword and reflecting back, hitting other objects across the room. Finally I hear what I want when the sound of a death-scream is heard as one of the reflected blasts hits one of the elites. I don't wait for the injured body to hit the floor. I leap over the desk as high and as far as I can, aiming for the elite soldiers. It pays off, both of his comrades are momentarily distracted. I bring my blade down on the first as I land, cutting through his armour into his chest. The second started to raise his weapon as I spun around and drew my blade through his body as well. The third lay on the ground sputtering in pain from the blaster shot. I grant the elite soldier some mercy and plunge my sword through his neck, twisting it to snap the vertebrae, ending his misery.
. There's going to be more company here soon I bet, so I should get moving. There might be a cardkey on one of the elites. I check the new bodies for the key and find one on the poor sod that I had to take mercy upon. Thankfully there is no indication of the lift moving. I'm by myself for a bit. Well, until I get to the bridge.
. I press the keycard to the sensor and the heavy blast doors open to a pristine hallway leading to another lift. That is the lift that will take me to the bridge, and to Douglas Drumpè. I don't like him, but I don't like anyone who willingly exploits people to such a degree for their own personal gain. People like him usually can't be reasoned with. They are stuck in their selfish ways and refuse to change. The only way to stop them is with permanent measures.
. I take a few steps in the fancy hallway. Drumpè has to know I'm here, I've made enough... noise... why is the... hallway going... sideways... and... dark?
End of memory.
Locating next memory...