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The Rescue Mission Ver 1: Deltas

Aboard the Zero Alliance's most proud ship, the Expediator, a Typhoon II class Omega Carrier with its 7km long hull and thousands of clones as its crew, four special commandos sat around in one of the many lounges aboard this bright and battle ready juggernaut. Each one of them were professionals with skills way beyond that of normal clone troops. They felt that their talents were currently being squandered away when they could be out fighting battles against threats in the galaxy.

This was Delta Squad. Boss, the leader of the group, sat with his armored legs crossed and was lounging in a chair with his arm on a table beside him. His armor color was detailed with custom orange paint and were in places that projected a sense of organization and variety. Fixer sat across from him, scraping some dirt from the nooks and crannies of his green helmet. He was the technical expert and knew how to handle advanced technology well. The also was more of a "by the book" soldier and preferred following protocols whenever possible, but was still never afraid to get his hands dirty if need be. Scorch and Sev were the other two remaining commandos. They shared a very close and competitive bond. Both of them were arm wrestling at a different table and neither side seemed to want to budge. Scorch was the demolitions expert and sported black and yellow armor. He was a little bit of a joker and tended to rustle everyone's jimmies when handling explosives from time to time. Sev was the killer of the group, a professional sniper, and enjoyed the hunt, perhaps a little too much. His defining armor feature was his red war paint, especially the red hand smack dab in the middle of his faceplate. No one really knows whether he painted it on himself or not.

With an almost animalistic growl, Sev flexed his arm muscles even tighter and slammed his brother's wrist into the table. "Ow! Dang, nice one, Sev." said Scorch with his usual light hearted, but somewhat snide tone. "You really showed that table who's boss...with my fist...

"That'll teach it never to mess with me," said Sev gruffly.

"You keep at it, and command will have to send in a new table...AGAIN," commented Fixer. He sounded serious, but he meant well.

"Well they can bill us," said Scorch. "Our next paycheck is in, oh, never."

"Don't need payment. I love this job...except for the downtime," said Sev.

Boss picked himself up from his lazy position and inserted his assessment. "I don't think we'll have to wait around much longer. Command says that Zero might need our help soon."

"Zero... I can't believe it," growled Sev. "He disappears for a month, then we find him running around with some dragon lady, AS A DRAGON!"

"I find that woman to be pretty interesting," said Scorch. "I think he's bagged himself a keeper."

"Right. If she's only as fierce as Zero says she can be, then maybe I could still teach her a few things."

"Don't count on it, big guy."

"Cut it out, you two," said Fixer. "And his name is apparently Razgriz now. We should respect him that."

"You know, he sorta abandoned us."

"That doesn't matter anymore," interrupted Boss. "He set up his command system to work without him. In fact, this really isn't anything new. He's never 'officially' been at the head, except for times where he has made some informed decisions against command."

Suddenly, a burst of static came from their com systems inside of their suits' collars and their personal advisor clone was speaking with them. "Delta squad. We have a new mission for you."

"Go ahead, adviser. We could use some action right about now," replied Boss.

"Believe it or not, this one comes from our former leader."

"I guess he's still holding the reigns," commented Scorch.

"He needs you to mount a rescue operation in his home reality. An illegal sex slave trader is holding nine people hostage and has brainwashed them into doing his bidding."

Fixer saw this as a strange extension of their military's authority. "Sir, are you saying that we are now extending our jurisdiction into a different reality?"

"Not exactly. This is a favor requested by Razgriz. He says it's personal."

"I'm not one to complain about busting skulls," said Sev. "But Fixer's right. This does seem a bit out of our reach."

"I'll let you in on a secret, squad. Command is playing their own counter-intelligence game with Razgriz to try to get him BACK into the Zero Alliance. A sort of 'show of force,' if you will. We're sending you there immediately aboard the Expediator. Command hopes that the sight of his old home again will also spur him into coming back." There was a pause as everyone waited for the adviser to continue with the briefing. "Commander Ford will be present during this mission. He's our only permanent contact in that area and he will be providing oversight and any relevant information for your mission. He will be in direct contact with Razgriz by the time you get there."

"Soooo, when do we get there?" asked Scorch.

"Now."

A solitary buzzer sounded and there was a flash from the porthole windows. Each clone got up and checked the view outside. They seemed to be in orbit around Terra still, but the sheer lack of ships of any kind was an indicator that this was not their home.

"Your mission starts now. Good luck, Deltas." His transmission cut out and immediately started another.

"This is Commander Ford," said a new clone. He spoke with authority and with a little leisure. "How are you today?"

"We're not so bad," said Boss as he and the rest of his team were putting their helmets on. "A little uneasy about the situation, but we'll get the job done."

"Thank you. I need you to be on top of your game today, no matter what. Head to hanger one and board the dropship waiting in the launch way."

Boss nodded to his clones and they were on their way.

Many decks below and kilometers away from their lounge, the clones had teleported down to the left wing hanger bay. The hanger was huge! It was two kilometers long and one kilometer high. Just looking around could make anyone dizzy. This hanger and its twin both contained thousands upon thousands of fighters and drones, all lined up in racks suspended above the main floor. Down the center of the whole hanger, and what split the racks in half, was a magnetic strip that would accelerate any small craft into space. As they exited the teleporter door, they spotted a dropship landed on the strip with its rear ramp wide open for them. As they navigated through the maze of robots, crates, and technicians on the hanger floor, they spotted the old Hellbender starfighter that belonged to Zero, alone, awaiting its original pilot to grace its controls. Fixer sighed. "It's a shame to see that thing rot like that."

The four made it to their dropship and walked up the ramp to the seats inside. They each sat down and the dropship closed its door and got ready to fly.

Ahead of them were a few squadrons of fighters being launched for protection of their massive starship, but there was practically no wait in line as the dropship suddenly levitated and lurched as the magnetic strip propelled them through the hanger alongside dozens of other fighters. The end of the hanger was approaching fast and they made it out heading straight for the planet!

Their acting commander was back on the radio with them. "Squad, can you hear me? I'm here with Razgriz now. He'd like to talk to you."

"Put him through," said Boss.

There was a brief pause and then a burst of static as a new microphone was activated. "Deltas? This is Ra- Ze-...." There was an even longer, awkward pause on the other side of the mic.

"Sir?"

"Sorry. Never mind. Anyway, I've got a job for you."

"Yes, the adviser told us our mission overview, but we need details. What've you got?"

"I've got the coordinates here and I am already uploading them to the dropship and to your HUDs. You are infiltrating a cliff side mansion with an underground hideout where the hostages are. There are some posted guards on the outside, but I don't know about anything on the inside."

"So what more about the hostages?"

"Preliminary scans indicate that there are nine female hostages, as you probably already know from your briefing. For sure, there is one falcon that we followed. Scans also say... there's one Pokemon. Pretty diverse world I live in now, huh?"

Scorch rolled his head and everyone could tell that his jaw had dropped. "So they ARE real after all!"

"Scorch, don't get your hopes up. You're here to free them, not catch them."

"Oh, right. Sorry Zero. I mean, Raz..griz..." He was blatantly forcing the new name out of his mouth.

There was another pause on the radio, but Razgriz continued eventually. "Ok. And last of all, your enemy is a human male. He can be easily identified by the blue with white horizontal stripes and by his blue jeans. His guards were wearing all black. I've nicknamed him 'blue boy,' but his handlebar mustache is also a prominent feature. Sev, do me a favor, rip that off, will ya?"

Sev grunted, but was slow to acknowledge. "Yeah, ok."

There was yet another pause on the radio, but Commander Ford's voice came back on. "There's something wrong. With him, I mean. I'm sorry, I don't think he can talk right now, but the mission is on. Get this done ASAP. I'll contact you of anything new comes up."

The transmission ended and their dropship entered the atmosphere. Boss wasn't exactly pleased with the behavior of his clones. "What the hell was that!?" he exclaimed. "You two practically bullied him onto a guilt trip!"

"Sorry sir, but he's gotten soft. It's not fair that he can just issue orders as if nothing has happened. It's just weird talking to him again," said Scorch.

"Well now you don't have to. Not a word from you on the open comms next time he is on."

"Sorry."

Boss tilted his head towards Sev to give him a glare. Although his face was covered, Sev felt the full brunt of the look and was forced to look away. "Shape up, Deltas. We're here to save these people, not for him." Each one of them nodded in acknowledgement.

The scenery outside stopped moving and they noticed that they were hundreds of feet above a thick, dark green forest below. The sun was low over the horizon, just above the ocean. In the distance, they could see a mansion. That must have been their target. "This is your stop," said the dropship pilot. The rear ramp opened for the commandos.

"Thanks for the lift," said Boss. He got out of his seat and the rest of the squad followed him to the ramp. As soon as they were all present, they each took a handle out of their backs which spewed nanites to form multi-barreled, .50 caliber, railgun assault rifles. Boss jumped first and the rest followed all the way to the distant ground. Their suits absorbed the impact with its advanced inertial dampeners. A quick visual scan of the area proved that there was no immediate threat.

The objective marker on their HUDs pointed to the west. They wouldn't have the most stealthy approach vector, but the shadows of the trees would help mask their dark colored armor.

"Take offensive formation," ordered Boss. An acknowledgement indicator winked on his squad status boxes on his HUD and they all began to move as one unit. It wasn't long before they reached the edge of the tree line. They stayed in the shadows and studied the mansion. It was a lonely building with plenty of open ground and balconies. It was guarded just like Razgriz said it was with regular patrol men walking the grounds and snipers in all of the balconies. High tech cameras were posted in different areas and would probably detect them soon.

"It looks like we need to take them all, sir," rumbled Sev.

"I think you're right," replied Boss. "Deltas, snipers." Each one of the clones' assault rifles suddenly lost their shape as their guns morphed into .50 caliber sniper rifles with elongated barrels "Switch to energy mode. Don't want to make noise or shoot up the house just yet."

Once again, the squad adjusted their rifles to switch from ballistics to the quieter energy variant.

"Fire."

Sev was the very first to get his shot off. Soon, the field between the forest and the mansion was alive with blue beams hitting each and every guard and camera. Not a single commando missed their mark. The human guards all screamed out as their bodies were pierced and their wounds cauterized instantly. Everything around the mansion died. Sev felt proud of his work. He had dropped more than everyone else, but their total kill count was about twenty guards down and six cameras smoking. They waited for a few moments in case somebody was still moving or more guards came to play, but all was quiet save for the nearby seaside breeze and the distant smell of burnt hair and flesh.

"Alright... Let's pack it up, Deltas." Everyone was totally satisfied with their work. They followed Boss out into the open field and they activated their suits' flight thrusters to ski and glide over the grass. They sped right up to a wall of the mansion and fanned out around it

"Let's rearrange some architecture," said boss while indicating at the wall with his left hand.

"I'm on it," said Scorch. A bomb made form nanites materialized on his back utility belt and he placed it on the wall. He began setting the shape of the charge and the blast radius. "Was it red-red-green, or was it red-green-red?"

"And he's supposed to be the explosives expert," commented Sev.

"Charge is ready, Boss." Scorch pulled back behind Sev and stood right behind him, ready to breach and clear. To get the party started, Boss merely thought of blowing the charge and "BOOM!" The explosion was unglamorous and there was a lot of dust, but the speed and elegance of the squad squad flowing into the room made up for its short coming. Scorch and Sev went in at the same time and checked their corners. Boss and Fixer followed right behind them and swept even more thoroughly. There were chairs and couches on the ground floor and high ceilings to contain a second floor with more balconies. It would have been an interesting fight had there been enemies stationed inside, but alas, there were none.

"Sir, I'm picking something up on the local radio channels," said Fixer. "It's a silent alarm."

"We've only got seconds, Deltas. Let's find a way to the lower levels," said Boss.

They didn't have to wait long. "Ding!" An elevator to their left had just arrived. The squad reformed their sniper rifles into a smaller sort of SMG. It was still a .50 caliber weapon and was still a railgun, but only had a single barrel. The elevator doors slid open and revealed a small squad of guards! The commandos opened fire with their weapons! Their combined fire rang out throughout the house and the enemies before them all exploded from the unholy wall of bullets. They lost sight of their targets in the red and fleshy mist that was formed. Nothing could stop a railgun, especially at this range. All the guards had disintegrated as fast as they had arrived. "Yea-haa!" laughed Sev.

"Get to that elevator, quick!" yelled Fixer. Each one of them dashed inside. Fixer kicked out the guards who were blocking the doors. When it was clear, the doors shut and started descending.

The ride down was a little awkward with the four of them standing on uneven ground in a gelatinous pool of blood, their asses being fanned by the gaping hole in the elevator wall behind them. By looking at the elevator walls, no one could tell what the original color was. Every square inch had been spray painted red and the excess "paint" was dripping on the outside. The Hellavator would have been an apt name for their ride. At least there wasn't any music.

Sev started sucking in air through his teeth. "Grrr. I can't figure out how many I killed. Let's just say I killed them all and that's ten more to my kill count."

"Suuuure," replied Scorch. "There aren't even ten bodies in here."

"Listen Deltas," addressed Fixer. "When those doors open, there'll be another batch of 'em waiting. They called the elevator down, not us, so they don't know we're in here."

The elevator slowed to a halt in the basement somewhere. "Ding!" The doors opened up to another group of guards! The Deltas opened fire again and cut them down.

"Another ten!" exclaimed Sev. They heard footsteps from down the long, stone hall. "Here come more!"

Boss acted fast. "Sev, Fixer! Take up snipe position!" he said as he indicated back inside of the elevator. Boss and Scorch retreated into the elevator as well, but Scorch readied a grenade and stood in the middle of the doors, ready to chuck it as hard as he could down the hall.

In the darkness ahead, one guard finally rounded a corner. "Frag out!" yelled Scorch, and he chucked it on a flat trajectory at an inhuman speed! The grenade whistled through the air and hit the guard fifty feet away, square in the chest! He had the wind knocked out of him and he fell right on his rump! He groaned for a second, but was quickly overshadowed by an explosion!

"Nice toss!" complemented Fixer.

"Incoming!" said Sev. More guards rounded the corner, limping from the grenade blast and blind firing at the squad. Sev and Fixer silenced them in a heartbeat. Suddenly, the dark dungeon was silent.

"Oh!" exclaimed one little human as he popped his head from around the corner. Sev took a shot, but the human pulled his head in just a nanosecond before Sev fired. "Damn! I missed!"

Fixer saw who it was. "That's Mustachio! Get him!" Delta squad filed out of the elevator and jetted down the hallway to the corner. They arrived and each boosted left down a short hall what opened into a square room with eight cages with birds inside and one human standing alone in the middle.

Boss contacted Ford on the radio as the squad surrounded him. "Commander, we've got the target surrounded."

"Roger that, Deltas. Your orders are to execute him."

"I seem to remember being ordered to rip his mustache off," said Sev, apparently over the external speakers for the mustached man looked at him in terror. He stared into the intimidating faceplate and at the bloody hand print plastered on the helmet. Sev slowly raised his weapon and the man's eyes tracked upwards with the barrel. He was a greasy, sweaty man. He stood in a pool of some murky, sticky substance that shouldn't have been there. The humid ceiling of the dungeon dripped with water in time with the beads of sweat rolling down his face. His breath came out in bursts along with the groans from the tired Anthros locked up inside of the cramped and grizzly cages.

And that mustache. The most unkempt mustache the world had ever seen, grew unevenly with greasy tendrils and grimy pores. It looked as if they were etched into his skin by a pencil; straight lines of black. The scraggly, rolling tendrils were so unkempt as well. It wa out of place on his face. The edges of his mouth looked raw as well. Scratch marks suggested close proximity to sharp objects, most likely from the beaks of some avian slaves, and warts and scabs from the diseases contracted by keeping his pets in such a dank place.

It was time to die.

Sev squeezed off one round into the cranium of the disgusting man. The round flew right between the eyes, expanded inside of his head, and tore out the back of the skull in metal shards along with bits of flesh, hair, bone, and blood. He fell straight backwards and landed perfectly on the hole in the back of his head, making a grotesque squishing sound and collapsing his head inward, turning him to mush.

"Commander Ford, the subject is dead."

"Excellent work, Deltas. Begin extracting..."

The commander's voice drowned out as Scorch walked over beside Sev. "Nice shot. I would say that it was a clean shot, but, well, you know, the blood spatter?"

"Sorry for the mess. At least we've ended this."

Scorch looked around at the eight cages in the room. Each Anthro inside seemed to be confused and were cowering away as far back as they could. "We need to help these people. C'mon." Scorch walked off to a cage, but Sev stayed behind for a moment. He aimed his gun again and shot into the face of the dead man. More bits of humanity flew everywhere, onto the floor and onto Sev's armor, and then there was no face left. Scorch looked back and had to ask, "Sev, did that corpse give you a dirty look?"

"Rule 17......And yes...that mustache."

"Ahh. Good call."

Sev was satisfied with his work and he disengaged his weapon and the nanites that it was constructed out of sucked back into a simple handle that used to be the grip. He slung it over his shoulder and put it into its hole.

Boss was watching. Sev nodded to him and Boss nodded back. He turned to face the exit and placed his hand up to his ear as if to hold an earphone up to it. "Command, this is Delta Lead. Mission accomplished, we're handing out transporter beacons and are returning home."