Chapter Text
15th of Vedara
Cali
Joshua Halifax
I don’t remember crashing last night, I guess the adrenalin finally stopped flowing after we made it back to the safehouse. Our numbers have been bolstered to eighteen. A dozen from our group, five from Richi’s, and the crew chief from the gunship who survived. Well, twenty if I count the prisoners.
I awake in the study, crashed on one of the couches. My sitting by the entrance, with my shotgun and the rifle I took leaned against the wall, my armor and helmet are set around haphazardly on the coffee table. The cordages I took. I have elected to tie them around the alien rifle stock, which looks good with the silver gray color of the rifle. I'm in my bdu’s now, and my boots are next to the couch. I sit up and slide my feet into said boots, lacing them up one at a time as my mind wakes up.
As I stand, the door opens, and I see Calbi at the door. “Yllescas wants you, bring the rifle.”
She gestures to the alien rifle sitting next to my stuff. “What does he want with it?”
She shrugs in response. “I don’t know, but the aliens are up so that could be it.”
I perk up, her comment having caught my interest. “Alright.”
I walk over, scooping the rifle up and exiting the room. As we walk down the hall Calbi turns back to me. “News came in over the radio earlier. Turns out another mole fleet showed up.”
“What? Where?” I question, a flash of panic shooting though my mind. Another invasion fleet, or a smaller incursion.
“A Rinel Front border system. From what info we got the defensives are holding better than ours. Thoses fucks sure know how to dig in like a tick.” Clabi scoffs.
“Yeah, it really sucks they don’t want to work with us on dealing with the biggest threat to humanity since….well ever.” I comment.
“Threat to their independence, stubborn bastards.” She shrugs.
Yllescas, Patterson and Sergeant Richi are in the spacious yet empty attic, where we have elected to keep the mole’s we captured the previous night. As far as I know both of them are still out, and still tied to the support beams keeping the roof up.
Reaching the attic, I find James and Richards standing next to the prisoners, rifle out but lowered. Yllescas and Patterson are standing by a small table, with a holo-display sitting atop it, though turned off. Someone also had left their helmet sitting upright next to it. Richi is leaning back against the wall, near the door we came in through.
“Morning sir,” I say as we walk up. “You asked for the rifle.”
“Yes, well, the sergeant actually.” Yllescas said as sergeant Richi walked over. I set the rifle down on the table, and Richi picks it up. He looks it over slowly, turning it in his hands, raising it up like he is aiming, moving his ungloved hand across it.
“Yup, like the rest.” He says as he places it back on the table.
“What do you mean?” I question, having gotten nothing from his examination.
“I’ve been in the EF for two years now. We have always gotten older equipment, especially in the divisions this far from the inner colonies.” Richi comments.
“Yeah, we got that issue two, what are you getting at?”
“Well, it's still good quality. Maybe a few issues but usually easy to fix.” Richi continues. “We’ve been able to get a few images of moles tech, and it looks flashy, good quality.”
“Yet, looking at the rifle here, it's subtle, but you can see it's the opposite. A nick here, a mark there, evidence that it's been fixed and remade over and over and over again.” Richi points out. He takes out his pdp and sets it down, turning it on and bringing up photos, most taken from a distance.
“They have been using our infrastructure, buildings and tech, even some of our weapons. Your Lieutenant told me that they were using one of our jeeps they captured.”
“So, either they like our stuff, or they need it.” I conclude, and Richi nods.
“Hey boss.” James speaks up. Looking over, I can see that the mole without its helmet is awake, looking around.
“Well, look who's up.” Patterson says with a humorous tone, like when I overslept on a school day and finally awoke.
The moles' feathers are a deep grey color, almost like charcoal. Its iris is a deep red with the sclera a deep midnight black. Its is wearing a sort of tunic and pants that closely resemble the color of the helmeted mole. I can now see how they got the nickname, with the strange metal appendages coming from the front, short and that that resembles a moles face. It wears an odd grey scarf around its neck, with a maroon diamond pattern along the edges. They are moving now, twitching slightly, yet no one else seems to notice. I pick up the rifle as Yllescas walks up to the mole, who is looking back at him.
“Well, you got a name.” Yllescas asks, gesturing slightly at the mole. It blinks at Yllescas, and I doubt it understands him, which would make sense. The mole looks beyond him and its gaze falls upon me, then the rifle. It lets out a soft gasp, and its eyes fill what I can only describe as pure hatred.
“ Gu’Ac, kil-na ach gu’eil!!” The mole shouts in a brash tone, and tries to lunge forward, but it is held back by the restraints. Yllescas looks at James and nods. James smacks the but of his rifle into the moles face, not hard enough to knock him out but enough to shut him up. The mole slumps to his side, audible breathing.
“What about you?” Yllescas turns towards the other mole, who didn’t react the same way as the other. The moles gaze alight with Yllescas, and his head tilts slightly, then shifts back slightly. “Surprised by something?”
The mole remains silent, his gaze locked on Yllescas. The Lieutenant face shifts slightly, clouded with annoyance. “Much more quiet than your friend. Do you need encouragement?”
“ Why bother?” The mole responds, his voice altered by his helmet, and in accented english. I freeze, and it's so quiet you could hear a feather fall. Everyones looking at the mole now, and Patterson, who has always had a hard-to-read expression, is visibly startled.
“What did you say?” Yllescas questions, his told now cold as the winter months on Myrsky. The mole’s helmet faceplate let out a soft hiss, and the appendages folded in before the faceplant shifted out and up. It wasn’t a mole, they were human. His skin was pale, his eyes a dark silver, almost like Yllescas. He had blacking markings under his eyes that stretched to and down the side of his nose, and in the shadows I can just make out a slight red light coming from the ends. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse and soft.
“Long time no see Murtry….glad to see you made it….”
~ ~
Yllescas ordered everyone out, even had me and James move the prisoner out of there. He didn’t say where to put him, so Richi helped us move it down to the basement and lock him in a small storage room. He didn’t resist or anything, almost as if he accepted his fate. Richi had one of his soldiers watch the door.
“What the hell was that all about?” James asks, more of an open statement than anything. We are hanging in the first floor kitching, and Robby and Warren are currently working on how to get the coffee machine working. We have a bunch of the dehydrated stuff, but whoever occupied the house before us had a large quantity of the real stuff. The windows are fogged up, but I can see the edge of the treeline through the morning fog. Clabi has joined Patterson and a couple others outside, who are walking the treeline. Richi and his corporal, Henderson I think, are watching the security cameras and sensors, and as far as I know our Medics, Nora and Misnk, are tending to our wounded on the other side of the house. We have fifteen people combat ready, but we can bump it up to seventeen if we are willging to use our walking wounded.
“I honestly don’t know. Like something snapped I guess, you think he’s going to kill him, that guy?” I ponder, the last comment more of a general statement than a question.
“What are you guys even talking about?” Warren steps away from the coffee machine, rummaging through the cabinets. Across the kitchen.
“One of the prisoners is human.” James responds. Warren, pauses mid search and then turns towards us.
“I'm sorry, did you say human?” Warren questions, and I nod slowly.
“Yup, he did.” Robby answers nonchalantly. “Where did you say–”
Robby is cut off by a low sounding trill, and I watch as Mochi sprints though the kitchen, weaving through Robbie's legs and almost tripping Warren.
“Oh, shit, shit.” Warren stumbles as James starts to laugh.
“Mochis got zoomies this morning.” James says with a chuckle. “Also he said the coffee beans were on the shelf next to the water filter.”
“Thank you.” Robby pulled the container from the cabinet and took it back to the machine. “Does anyone know when we’ll finally get out of here?”
I'm about to respond when my pdp buzzes, and by everyone else's reaction theirs did too. Pulling it out, I see that it's a message from Richi.
Multiple perimeter sensors triggered, possible enemy contact.
The window shudders slightly, followed by a low boom. I run to the window, brushing the fog off of it. I can see smoke rising in the distance and one of our guys running back to the house. Mochi seems to get something off, and has stopped nearby us, looking at the four of us curiously.
“Fuck.” I rush out of the room, running for the stairs and up to the attic. Barging through the door, I see that Yllescas seemed to be in mid conversation with the prisoner.
“Perimeter sensors tripped, one of the mines too.” I say, sucking in a breath.
“Understood, get him downstairs with the other. I’ll get on the radio and call in a bird.” Yllescas answers, not a hint of worry in his voice, and I can’t help but feel a little reassured. “Move him downstairs with the other. We’ll deal with them when the bird arrives.”