Chapter Seven:
Hours passed as they continued their trek through the darkness, eagerly anticipating the appearance of their next landmark, to be comforted by the fact they were indeed heading in the right direction. The more time passed the more increasingly anxious they became as time seemed to drag on without end, and still the ancient arena was nowhere to be seen. The commandos training and professionalism lent them the discipline and self-awareness necessary to deal with stressful situations, but the anxiety provoking environment of Downtown had proven to be a challenge, even for them.
The notion that perhaps he had been wrong, and the old man had indeed lied to them and sent them off on a march into oblivion occurred to Grim. He had thought Caskar was playing one game when he was in fact playing another, in effect pulling a double bluff in a genius move he couldn't help but admire. Shaking his head, he pulled himself out of his musings and returned his attention to the task at hand. It wouldn't do to get caught up in obsessing over hypothetical situations.
Not long after the arena finally appeared in the distance, bringing a collective sigh of relief from the team of commandos. They cut across the arena grounds and into an even older neighbourhood that was ancient when the arena was young. Here the buildings were narrower and packed tightly together as narrow streets wound their way through the maze of Georgian architecture dating back almost a millennium.
Grim tightened his grip on his blaster, ever vigilant of their surroundings as buildings loomed around them, the potential for an ambush being high as many promising options from which to mount one presented themselves. He flicked over to infrared, scanning the area with his sensors to make sure no one was lying in wait. He was sure it wasn't coincidental that their path had led them to this place. Although, as he had expected, no one lay in wait for them up ahead. Apart from the odd heat signature of a rodent the area was devoid of life.
KA-BOOM!!
The building on their right suddenly exploded with a plume of flame and flying brick and mortar, sending the commandos hurtling through the air as they were hurled from their feet by the force of the blast. The opposing wall brought Cram's flight to an abrupt and painful end as he hit it with a bone rattling crunch that left long, jagged cracks in the bricks.
Large pieces of flying masonry hit Wes in the side of the head as he went down, rattling his brain inside his helmet, the armour plating saving his life.
Clouds of dust, smoke and powdered masonry clung to the air as the commandos lay on the ground, surrounded by debris, and began climbing to their feet. Aches and pains suddenly flaring to life as their bodies protested the movement. The sudden explosion left most of the team dazed and confused, as the shock of the unexpected assault wrapped them in an icy, tingling blanket of fear and anxiety.
As he rolled over on his stomach and climbed onto his hands and knees Grim identified the cause of the explosion, a mine. When they had walked past the device the movement had activated and set it off. No sooner had he completed this thought than the whine of blaster fire filled his ears and streaks of crimson energy began to rain down upon their position.
"Caskar!" Grim screamed. "Take cover!"
The commandos leapt to their feet and ran for cover. The lieutenant and Cram taking shelter behind a crumbling section of wall that now lie across the street, while the other four ran for cover, Dex and Jet crouching within the smouldering remains of the exploded building.
"I'm hit!" Cram exclaimed, the pain evident in his voice.
Grim looked down and immediately identified the injury. A fist sized hole had been blown in the side of the sergeant's armour, a buckled shard of rusted, ancient steel protruding from his side as blood leaked from under it, slowly running down the polished black armour. "Jynx!" he swore.
The smoke, dust and ash from the explosion did them the unintentional favour of providing them with extra cover, making their positions difficult to pinpoint. Otherwise Caskar might have taken them all out before they could scramble for safety.
A flurry of blaster bolts collided with the wall, blowing chunks of brick into the air that peppered the armour of the commandos hiding behind it.
They returned fire, a volley of retaliatory shots rocketing through the smoke and darkness in the general direction of their attacker.
They heard a descending whistle and Grim had just enough time to shout a warning of "Grenade!" before the projectile drove itself into the smouldering remains of the blown-out building. Right where Jet and Dex had positioned themselves as it brought the crumbling building down on top of them. With a final volley of blaster fire, the assault stopped as suddenly as it had begun and an unsettling silence returned to the world.
Grim rose from behind the wall as Wes and Cash emerged from their hiding places, rushing over to attend to their fallen comrades, trapped under the rubble of the now demolished building.
"Dex! Dex!" Wes shouted over the comm as he and Cash raced to the scene of the explosion and began pawing among the rubble.
A series of pained groans came over the comm. "Wh….what happened?" Jet asked, disorientated and rattled by the force of the blast and the impact of building materials that had buried him and Dex under a pile of rubble.
"Dex?" Wes called out again, an uncoherent, mumbled response from the commando answering his calls.
"I'll see to them, Cram is wounded," Grim said joining them.
"Copy that," Wes replied with a nod and moved off to tend to the wounded soldier.
Grim and Cash began sifting through the rubble, casting aside bits of broken masonry and lifting debris from their fallen comrades. The pile of rubble shifted as the buried commandos tried to dig their way out, fighting against the weight of the masonry that covered them. The two commandos stumbled to their feet, their armour dinged, scratched and torn, having saved their lives.
Cash helped an unsteady Jet to regain his balance. "You've got a nasty habit of being in the wrong place kid," he said. "And a stroke of luck to go with it that a gambler would be envious of."
"Ha, weird, I don't feel very lucky," Jet replied, looking around as if seeing their surroundings for the first time.
Dex scrambled to his feet, a sharp, throbbing pain in his right leg made him look down to see a long gash in the armour, blood and torn flesh being visible through the tear in his thigh plate as blood began seeping from the wound.
Noticing the wounded commando Grim and Cash rushed to his assistance, each getting under either side of him and helping him to where the medic was treating Cram's injury. They eased him to the ground near Cram and he leant back against the wall, removing his helmet and activating its torch as it lit the area around him with its soft, pale glow.
Numbing the area around the wound with an injection from his med pack, Wes removed the shard of metal from Cram's side and treated the wound. Disinfecting it with a spray he then withdrew a homeostatic syringe and inserted it into the wound, filling it with a blue liquid that shortly after oxidising turned into a foam and expanded, filling the wound and soaking up the blood. The medic placed a tourniquet over the injury, taping it with an airtight seal that would hold the foam in place and prevent any further bleeding. The other commandos watched as he treated Cram's injury, marvelling at the speed and efficiency with which he worked. A few minutes after beginning he was finished and applying putty armour over the hole before he moved on to treating Dex's leg. Soon Dex was also back on his feet, although walking with a noticeable limp.
"Regroup and prepare to move out!" Grim ordered. "Caskar just hit us hard, which means he's not far away. Let's get moving. Form up on me, on the double, move it. We've a traitor to catch," the lieutenant growled, leading the way after the renegade commando. The rest of the team followed along behind him, Dex being assigned once more to the rear of the group seeing as his mobility was impeded by his injury.
They weaved their way through the winding narrow streets, ever vigilant for signs of another impending attack as they scanned their surroundings. They came to an area where the buildings spread out once more, the old houses giving way to another industrial area. This one was noticeably more ancient and run down than the previous one they had been through.
Grim noted a large, block shaped cement building that served as a docking bay for vehicles of the age. Each level had a significant gap in its wall before the next floor began, the perfect spot from which to mount an ambush. He had hardly completed his assessment before a burst of flame flashed to life on one of the upper levels and his HUD screeched with a warning. "Incoming!" he roared.
"Take cover!" Cash shouted as the commandos all fled in different directions, diving for cover.
The grenade drove itself into the ground where they had stood seconds before and exploded, leaving a large crater in its wake. The shockwave from the blast knocked Dex and Jet from their feet, as the grenade exploded with a ball of fire and shrapnel that flew in every direction.
Cash looked down at his chest to see an inch long piece of shrapnel protruding from his sternum and with a snort of disdain returned fire in kind, hie rifle discharging with the familiar thunk of a grenade launch as it sped from the barrel and smashed into the concrete wall of the building, right where Caskar had been. "Suck on that!" he snarled.
"Nice shot," Grim commented. "But I doubt he stuck around to let us return fire."
"Nope, there he goes!" Wes said returning to his feet and gesturing to the right of the building.
Grim looked and zoomed in on the area, just in time to see the back of Caskar's armour disappear around a corner. He growled upon spotting the traitor and leapt to his feet. "Cash, Jet, on me!" he ordered and took off at a run after the retreating renegade. He activated his scanner as he did so, not forgetting to check for any potential traps that could lie in wait.
Jet and Cash, taken by surprise were a bit slow acknowledging the order, but followed close behind their commander, holding their weapons at the ready as they raced after Caskar. Wes, Cram and Dex followed not too far behind, the other two matching pace with Dex who couldn't manage much more than a jog.
They followed him into the street, turning the corner and looking down the length of the long, narrow road, flanked on either side by the festering remains of the industry of a long dead civilisation. Caskar had disappeared from view up ahead, the darkness consuming him where their night vision sensors couldn't penetrate at this distance.
Grim switched on his infrared scanner and he appeared up ahead once more, shuffling along at a noticeably slower rate than he had been moving. A feral grin formed on his lips, apparently Caskar's injury was really wearing him down after all the running he had done. Like a predator smelling blood he homed in on his target, bringing his blaster up as he ran and followed the heat signature around a corner, whipping around and opening fire as he strafed his way across the street, pumping several bolts into his target.
Caskar stopped, shuddered, and fell to the ground, hit by a trio of bolts.
Grim switched back to night vision and approached the corpse, Jet and Cash rounding the corner and joining him.
"Nice shootin' chief," Jet congratulated him.
Something felt off. It was too easy. He'd gunned Caskar down like he was game without much effort at all. Cautiously he approached the corpse and as it came within focus, he realised the truth. The corpse he'd shot wasn't Jax Caskar.
"Who the shock's that?" Jet asked, his question echoing their sentiments.
"Dunno, but it ain't Jax Caskar, that's for sure," Cash commented, as he studied the corpse.
Grim kicked the corpse over onto its back. The corpse that lay sprawled on the ground before them was of some hideously deformed humanoid with sickly grey skin. Dressed in tattered rags he was barely clothed and filthy, looking more animal than man, his expression curiously blank and lifeless.
"Sheesh, handsome he ain't," Cash exclaimed.
"Still better looking than the CO, right boss?" Jet joked.
Grim responded with a growl, looking about their position. "Something's not right," he said.
As if on cue, a nearby ancient and rusted gate swung open and two dozen humanoids resembling the corpse exploded out of the gateway. They raced towards the commandos with arms outstretched, hooting and hollering in excitement as they rushed the soldiers.
"What the Shock?" Jet cried. "What are these things?"
"Target practice," Grim said as he raised his blaster and began firing on the group of deformed mutants charging towards them. His first shot pulverised the face of the foremost target, the second and third tearing through the chest of another, dropping it to the ground as it twitched in its death throes.
Cash and Jet followed his lead and began firing on the hideous mutants as the three of them backed away from their attackers, the combined blaster fire dropping half of them in a matter of seconds.
Despite the ease with which the commandos cut down their attackers the mutants weren't put off by the deaths of half their brethren, as they just kept coming, racing head on into the line of blaster fire as they ran over the corpses of their fallen.
Cash blew the arm off one with two bolts into its shoulder, another's knee exploded with a shower of blood as Jet took his legs out from under him.
Amazingly, despite the loss of limbs and the intense pain they were surely in, they still came at the commandos, as if driven by a pure blood lust.
Grim put a bolt between the eyes of another as it careened to the ground. "Aim for kill shots," he ordered. "Anything else just slows them down."
As the mutants closed in on the commandos they switched to automatic via their commander's order and sprayed the group with lower calibre, higher density blaster fire. The effect was devastating. Gouts of blood erupted from the mutants as they were hit by multiple bolts, chucks of meat, bone and guts adding to the carnage as they were mowed down without mercy. Blood splashed from pulverised meat, splattering the commandos' armour with sticky crimson gore. The last of the group's face burst, half of it vanishing in a pulpy mess as it bellowed, the insides of its skull clearly visible as various liquids oozed down its face. It came lumbering towards them still.
Cash put another bolt into its skull, its head exploding with a splatter of blood and brains as it fell to the ground with a wet thud.
It was in that moment that Wes, Dex and Cram joined them, rounding the corner and uttering cries of surprise upon seeing the carnage laid out before them.
"Whoa, what happened here?" Wes asked.
"We ran into some of the locals, not the friendliest of folk," Cash replied.
"Jynx!" Dex exclaimed. "They're like some sort of hideous mutants, freaks or something."
"I guess the stories were true," Wes muttered.
"Stories?" Jet asked.
"Yeah, you know? All those stories about how toxic waste dumped Downtown by the Federation over the years turned some of the inhabitants of those areas in horribly deformed mutants?" Cram said. "Apparently the radiation stunted a lot of their brain development as well and left them as little more than wild beasts. Seems it was true after all."
The sounds of hooting and hollering from the distance suddenly filled their ears, rapidly getting louder as they came closer.
"Looks like we're about to meet the rest of them," Cash said, turning to the source of the noise.
Grim turned and surveyed the way they had come, considering whether they could retreat back that way and circle around the oncoming horde, when a building behind them exploded. The building fell onto the street with a hail of debris that blocked the route from which they had come, leaving them with no means of escaping the pack that bore down on them.
"Caskar!" Grim snarled, turning back to face the hollering mob. "Form up!" he barked, noting the area left them with no means of taking cover or putting any sort of barrier between themselves and their attackers. "Tanga formation, single shot, fire at will!" he ordered taking his position in the second row of commandos flanked by Cram and Cash on either side of him, spread out three meters from each of them. The other three crouched in front of them at a slightly obscure angle, with Dex and Wes filling the gaps between them with Jet on the far-left hand side.
The commandos stood ready and waiting, gripping their blaster rifles and standing silent and statuesque as they waited for the freaks to descend upon them.
"Load grenades. Cram you're one, Crash two," Grim instructed, cocking his rifle.
The other two acknowledged his order and loaded grenades with the distinctive double click as they cocked their launchers.
The mutants rounded the corner up ahead and immediately upon spotting the commandos began running towards them, hooting and hollering as they charged.
Grim wasted no time giving the order. "Open fire!" he shouted as he began firing on the oncoming horde.
The other soldiers needed no further encouragement and blaster bolts lit the darkness like a dazzling light show, impacting with the rushing mass of bodies as gouts of blood flew through the air and their targets fell to the ground.
The assault of blaster fire only seemed to excite them more and drive them into a frenzy. They began sprinting down the street towards the besieged commandos, their numbers swelling as they came into view and numbered at over a hundred of the ravenous, shrieking abominations, intent on devouring the commandos.
"One!" Grim shouted over the din, he command being answer by a plume of smoke bursting forth from Cram's rifle as a grenade rocketed from the barrel, ploughing into the oncoming horde with an impressive explosion that sent bodies hurtling through the air, among the shower of blood, guts, limbs and chunks of burning flesh.
But they kept coming, a sizeable hole appearing in their ranks, only to be filled by more of the onrushing mob.
Grim fired, launching a grenade of his own that barrelled into the front ranks, blowing eight of them to pieces and knocking others from their feet, setting fire to some and maiming others as they resumed their stampede. Volleys of blaster bolts decimated the front line, dropping almost a dozen to the ground as they withered and shrieked in agony, or hit the street dead. "Three!" Grim said, the grenade erupting from the barrel before he'd finished the word, landing in the middle of the mutant ranks and blowing everything around it to pieces in a burst of blood, meat and flaming debris.
Jet shot one right between the eyes, hit another with several bolts to the chest and pumped another full of bolts to the stomach, as the wounds spilled open and his innards splattered onto the street. "Jynx; there's so fucking many of them! They just keep coming!" he screamed over the comm, the whine of blaster fire almost drowning out his words as it echoed throughout the abyssal caverns of Downtown.
The horde kept coming, the abominable mutants trampling their dead. Some stumbling, slipping and sliding in the blood and guts strewn across the street as they charged the commandos. The freaks were closing in on their position, despite their best efforts to stem the assault they ignored the existential threat, having no regard for their own lives or their comrades as they were consumed by the primal instinct to feed.
Dex dropped four in quick succession, perfectly aimed head shots striking them all in the face and blowing their skulls to pieces.
The horde loomed in front of them, rapidly advancing as they came closer, their cries taking on a more sinister tone as they began to snarl, scream, and hiss at the commandos.
Grim decided upon a new tactic. "Cease fire. Forward rank, load grenades," he ordered.
The whine of blaster fire shuddered to a halt, a series of double clicks sounding as the three kneeling commandos cocked their rifles and took aim at the advancing mass of snarling mutants.
"Fire!" Grim snarled.
The trio of grenades rocketed from their prisons and pummelled the charging formation one after another. The three explosions making the ground rumble under their feet as their attackers were consumed by fire. Shrapnel and igniting explosives from the devices wreaking havoc within their ranks. The expanding balls of fire receded into nothingness just as quickly as they had burst to life, leaving a scene of carnage and devastation in their wake as plumes of black smoke wafted throughout the street. The gap between the mutants and commandos had been widened significantly as dozens of them lay dead or wounded. The charred remains of corpses littered the street with sticky, crimson gore being splattered all over the walls of adjacent buildings.
Silence descended upon them for a few, brief, peaceful seconds before the roars of the grotesquely deformed mutants once again filled the night and they came galloping towards them once more. Their relentless onslaught even in the face of having two thirds of their number slaughtered unnerved the commandos, there was something about the reckless abandon with which they threw themselves at the enemy that was disturbing.
They advanced on the commandos once more, Grim ordering his men to hold their fire and activate their flame throwers. His finger hovered over the button to ignite the incendiary device, waiting until they got within range before giving the order. Then they hit the ten-meter mark, "Light em up!" he barked, pressing the button and holding it as a long, serpentine burst of flame erupted from the barrel. The other commandos followed suit and half a dozen bursts of flame licked out at the freaks.
The front ranks burst into flames, the fire catching hold of their flesh and quickly spreading to consume them as they shrieked in agonised terror. The ones behind those in front pushed them forwards and into the flames, a wall of fire igniting as they burned and fell to the ground, the corpses burning as the fire spread to consume each wave of mutants as they charged.
The sight of these hideously mutated freaks burning and shrieking in pain brought a smile to Grim's lips. The abominations surged forwards, desperately trying to get their hands on the soldiers as they shambled towards them, engulfed in flames before they finally collapsed at the commandos' feet. "Move out, crescent formation, let's finish these things off," Grim said.
The commandos fanned out into a single line as they fired bursts at flames at the remaining mutants, their onslaught having been halted as the vanguard of their formation was obliterated by the flames.
The remaining two dozen ran at the commandos in small, disjointed groups, any sense of cohesion in their assault being lost as the soldiers moved to mop up the survivors.
Calmly and with textbook precision the commandos moved through the remnants of the horde, rhythmic blaster fire putting down the survivors with ease as they approached the crescent formation. Then it was over. The street was littered with over a hundred corpses, blood splattered the buildings around them and collected in pools of congealed, sticky crimson gore. Body parts, guts and entrails were spread throughout the street among the dead bodies, many with their organs and innards exposed or falling out onto the road through mutilated, torn and ruptured flesh that had been shredded by grenades or blaster fire. The smell of scorched flesh, blood and blaster discharge was overpowering.
"Fuck me, what a massacre!" Jet said, his tone betraying shock more than enjoyment as he surveyed the scene of the slaughter and stifled the urge to vomit.
Grim narrowed his eyes in the direction Caskar had fled. "Reform, move it!" he barked, as they hurried to obey. "We've got Caskar on the run now!" he said, "He can run, but he can't hide!"
Chapter Eight:
The commandos followed Caskar's path of retreat, Grim regularly consulting the directions they had been given. Their senses alert they stood on edge and ready for any surprises he may have in store for them. Several hours passed as they closed in on their target's destination, and the purported meeting area for his rendezvous with the Syndicate rebels. According to their informant the meeting place was an ancient stadium that had been used for sporting events back in the twenty first century. Their situation was looking desperate as their power supply fell to 40% and their ammo supplies were running low after the confrontation with the horde of mutants.
The shortest way to the stadium, thanks to a large amount of decay and fallen debris in the area, and conveniently the most appealing route for anyone wanting to set an ambush, was through an ancient factory complex which was a literal maze of rooms, ancient machinery, hallways, catwalks and multiple levels.
Grim led his men into the building, through a decayed foyer and past a cluster of offices and administration areas. The lieutenant scanned the area for any live electronic devices that could be explosives or a trap of some sort. When nothing flashed on his feed he continued through the administrative area, heading towards the factory itself.
He kicked open the door to the factory floor with his blaster raised and moved into the room, scanning the area from left to right as the rest of the team shuffled in behind him.
Something in the office adjacent from the entrance exploded as Grim heard the blast that shook the building, feeling the heat of the fire through his armour as he stumbled and fell to his knees.
Blaster fire rang out from an office at the end of the hall, firing on the commandos as they lay on the ground, the force of the blast blowing them off their feet and sending them crashing to the ground as their armour was peppered with shrapnel.
Someone started screaming in agony, their cries over the comm sending an icy shiver up the spines of their teammates as it became apparent someone was badly wounded.
Wes raised his head above the whine of blaster fire and looked around, spotting Dex several meters away, laying against the door frame to the factory, a wet splattering of blood over the floor originating from his side.
"I'm hit!" Dex declared between sobs. "Oh fuck!" he cried looking down at the wound, seeing his insides on display as blood gushed from the hole in his stomach.
Wes crawled over to him, blaster bolts blowing holes in the ground inches away, almost hitting Jet as he tried to take cover by rolling up against the wall and placing his hands over his head.
Cram climbed to his knees and sighted the target, seeing it was a sidearm jury rigged to begin firing after the detonation. At this distance they hadn't noticed it sitting there, ready and waiting. He frowned and fired off two bolts, the crimson blasts of energy pulverising the auto gun with a burst of flames and sparks as it exploded, and the incoming fire ceased.
Wes leapt to his feet and rushed to Dex's aid, the rest of the squad picking themselves up and crowding around their wounded comrade as they watched Wes tend to his wounds. The concern was heavy within the group. Dex had been seriously wounded and was bleeding out fast. The explosion had blown a huge gash in his side that had decimated his armour and torn a wide, deep laceration in his flesh.
Grim ordered the rest of the squad to attention, Cram, Cash and Jet forming up on him as they continued the hunt.
Wes remained with Dex to operate on the wounded commando and help to patch him up, he just hoped he possessed the skills necessary to keep his comrade alive long enough for him to get to a hospital. "You've got to call in the gunship, Lieutenant," he addressed Grim over the comm. "He needs surgery asap. There's only so much I can do with a field kit."
"Affirmative," Grim acknowledged, making a dispatch to the gunship on standby to extract them. "Man down, repeat man down! Request immediate medical evac!"
"Copy Lieutenant. We'll be there as quick as we can. Just hold tight," came the static ridden response.
Grim cut the commline and led his four man team onto the factory floor, the commandos surveying their surroundings as they made their way through the maze of ancient machinery, ever vigilant for an ambush as their anxiety levels ran high. Thus far Caskar had successfully ambushed them three times and had been gradually wearing them down, despite their best efforts. Worse, now they were reduced to an active team of four, greatly increasing the odds in their opponent's favour.
"Bogey at two o'clock!" Cram shouted a warning, just before blaster fire began to rain upon them from a catwalk above.
Grim ducked behind some rusted machinery as several bolts flew over his head and the other commandos dived for cover.
Cash poked his blaster out from around the machine, chancing a look at the source of the weapon's fire. Spotting Caskar crouched on the catwalk above, taking cover behind a large steel plate, he fired several bolts at their attacker before dodging back behind his shelter.
Cram risked rising to return fire, standing just long enough for his rifle to spit a salvo of blaster bolts in Caskar's direction before he ducked down once more.
"Give me some cover fire!" Grim snapped, preparing to expose himself to their target so he could get a clear shot at him. One good shot was all he needed.
"Copy chief, one distraction coming up," Jet said, popping up and unleashing a salvo of automatic fire at Caskar, the bolts impacting with the section of steel he'd set up as a barricade and shredding it.
Caskar ducked down and his assault paused for several seconds.
It was all the chance Grim needed. He stood and took aim, pulling the trigger several times as twin bolts burst from the barrel. The first virtually disintegrated part of his makeshift cover and the second smashing into his shoulder with a shower of sparks that made him stumble.
A loose volley of shots answered Grim, being sprayed in his general direction as Caskar returned fire, turned and fled through a side door, his distinctive black armour disappearing into a corridor above.
"Don't let him escape!" Grim snarled, standing and taking off after their quarry.
The other three commandos followed suit, keen to get their hands on the devious and illusive Jax Caskar; who'd forced them into playing this deceptive game of cat and mouse where he appeared to be the hunted, but was in fact, the hunter. They followed him down a long, empty corridor with a pair of swinging doors at the end, a flurry of bolts blowing craters in the doors and adjacent wall as they fired at him and he ducked around the corner.
Grim saw it as soon as Caskar moved aside, no longer blocking it from view. But the doors were ajar and behind them on an ancient gurney sat a small tank and device on top of it. He instantly recognised it as the flame thrower and fuel tank from their blaster rifles.
"Get down!" Grim shouted, diving to the ground as the flame thrower activated and belched forth a long gout of flame that passed overhead just inches above the commandos who threw themselves to the ground just in time.
Grim raised his blaster and blew the thing to pieces as it exploded in a ball of flames.
He leapt to his feet and took off after Caskar, the other commandos scrambling to keep up as they raced through the factory, running through a maze of hallways and corridors, following the sound of the renegade's retreating footsteps echoing throughout the building. They followed him into a large storage facility at the rear of the building, towards the exit onto the loading dock. The area was full of ancient crates, shipping containers and long abandoned equipment and supplies, making it a labyrinthine journey to the loading dock.
Jet suddenly howled in pain and whirled around, firing at the darkness as a shadow slipped past him, driving the blade of a combat knife into his side, just above the hip where his thigh armour met with the cuirass. "Jynx!" he cried, keeling over. "He fucking stabbed me!"
Grim and Cram swooped on the area, sweeping it to catch Caskar before he could retreat, but to no avail. Silent, fast and lethal, he had struck and made a swift get away before anyone could react. "Hold on kid, we'll get you some help as quick as we can," Cash assured him as he inspected the wound. "It's fucking deep, but not fatal. Not if we can get you to a doctor."
Jet lowered himself to the ground and Cash began tending to the wound with what meagre medical gear standard commandos carried. "Fuck; that's another one of us out of commission for this fight," Cash said as Grim and Cram joined them. "You're gonna have to go back to Wes so he can treat it. Wait it out with them until help arrives," Cash instructed.
"I'll be fine, we've got to get Caskar," Jet insisted as he stood, Cash helping him to his feet.
"Negative," Grim interrupted. "You'll bleed to death before then. Join Wes and leave Caskar to us. That's an order Corporal."
Jet nodded and threw him a sloppy salute before he turned and shuffled off the way they had come.
Grim led the two sergeants out of the factory and across the stadium grounds, his two subordinates flanking him on either side as they jogged through the gardens and paved areas around the ancient entertainment complex. They entered via the main entry, a wide crescent shaped screen of a dozen double glass doors that had long since broken.
Caskar appeared at the top of a flight of ancient escalators on the opposite side of the expansive foyer. His rifle bucked with a grenade launch as the commandos ran and dived for cover.
The ground shook with the rumble of the explosion.
Grim covered his head with his arms and grit his teeth as he felt something bite the flesh of his left arm as pain shot through him. He immediately leapt up and returned fire, Cash and Cram doing the same as they fired a flurry of bolts at him from three directions.
Caskar turned and fled into the stadium, not bothering to stop and engage the commandos.
Grim snarled in rage. "Caskar!" he roared at the retreating traitor, climbing to his feet and sprinting after his foe, his blood boiling as a white-hot rage consumed him. He was thoroughly sick of this hit and run garbage, being made to chase Caskar while he was slowly dismantling his team. Ignoring the pain in his arm where a shard of shrapnel had buried itself in his bicep as blood ran freely from the wound, he charged up the escalators, with Cash and Cram hot on his tail. Grim reached the top of the escalators and looked around, spotting Caskar as he disappeared through a ruined doorway that lead down into the lower grandstands. "Stand and fight me you coward!" he bellowed, going after his quarry. His mind consumed by the thought of catching up with Caskar and wrapping his hands around the deserter's neck.
The commandos passed under the doorway and came out into the grandstand. The stands wrapped around the circumference of the stadium with a large pitch of dirt in the centre.
A flurry of blaster bolts came streaming towards them as they all dived for cover.
Cash felt the intense heat of a bolt pass by him, leaving a long, scorched laceration across his chest armour.
Grim grunted as a bolt smashed into his sternum, his armour taking the brunt of the impact. He ducked for cover behind rows of crumbling seats and returned fire, firing a trio of bolts at his attacker as they became embroiled in a fire fight.
Cram's armour flashed warning signs at him, which he ignored and shut off. His suit's defence capabilities compromised following the beating it had taken over the course of the mission. He crouched behind seats across the walkway from Grim and sprayed a volley of automatic fire at their target, the bolts chewing through the chairs and shredding them with a spray of plastic and metal.
Cash rolled up and over into a kneeling position as he fired on Caskar, hurling himself aside as a volley of return fire threatened to rip him to shreds.
A predatory grin formed on Grim's lips as he realised they had Caskar pinned down and unable to escape, one against three he was hard pressed just to keep them at bay.
A sudden grenade launch from Caskar's position barely gave Cash and Cram time to dive aside. The commandos were hit by the shock-wave of the blast which sent them hurtling through the air. Their HUD systems screaming in protest as their armour absorbed blast damage and was pock marked and scorched with shrapnel and flames, chunks being blown out of the protective plate.
While the commandos were distracted by the grenade Caskar leapt to his feet and ran for cover, throwing himself behind a raised concrete section that divided several seating sections.
Grim rose and fired at Caskar as he took cover. His anger and frustration at the situation reaching boiling point. Caskar having commandeered a Federation gunship had taken spare ammo, grenades and equipment for the coming fight, being far more prepared for this than they had anticipated.
"Mother fucker!" Cram swore. "Eat this!" he hissed, returning Caskar's hospitality with his last grenade.
The grenade slammed into the cement barricade, blowing a massive hole in the wall.
Cask appeared from within the cloud of smoke, vapourised cement and ash, exposed from the chest upwards thanks to Cram's demolition work. He fired an arching fire of bolts at the three commandos attacking his position, the rifle bucking with the sustained automatic fire.
The three commandos exchanged salvos of blaster fire with the renegade when a sudden noise of incoming engines and the light of a pair of spotlights tore their attention from the battle.
"What the jynx?" Cram exclaimed upon seeing a small freighter descend from the sky and land on the stadium floor, the two spotlights lighting the area with their luminescent glow.
"I believe that would be Caskar's ride out of here," Cash replied.
"Well let's make sure he doesn't get the chance to take it," Grim said, pouring another volley of blaster bolts at Caskar's hiding spot.
"Looks like we've got company," Cash said.
Grim glanced towards the freighter and swore as the boarding ramp descended and two dozen Syndicate rebels disembarked, wielding weapons with half of them taking up defensive positions around the ship as the other half came running across the field to join the fight. "Jynx!" Grim swore. "Just what we fucking need. Cash, Cram, you're on our uninvited guests, keep them occupied while I deal with Caskar," he ordered, cocking his rifle and loading his last grenade into the barrel. He opened a commline to the gunship. "Mayday, mayday! Lieutenant Dazitz of Revenant Squadron calling for immediate air support. We're pinned down and under attack from Syndicate rebels. I repeat we're pinned down by Syndicate rebels and request immediate air support!"
The reply was almost instantaneous. "Copy Lieutenant, gunship Lightning is inbound to provide medical evac, hold tight Revenants, we'll be there as fast as we can."
Cash acknowledged the order by cocking his rifle, also down to his last grenade as their ammo supplies ran thin. "Copy that, let's rock!" he declared, descending the stairs in leaps and bounds until he reached the cement walkway around the base of the stand.
Cram ejected his empty clip and loaded his last. He raised his blaster and began firing on the incoming rebels, he and Cash peppering their ranks with blaster fire as they moved into position.
The Syndicate troops ran for cover and began returning fire, while Cash and Cram took up positions and exchanged blaster fire with the rebels.
Cash's rifle bucked with an audible thud of grenade fire, as the projectile launched and span through the air, leaving a trail of exhaust smoke in its wake as it climbed and then descended towards the rebels. The grenade ploughed into the seating section with an impressive explosion that incinerated three of the rebels, their screams being cut short as they were burned alive in seconds.
Caskar and Grim exchanged volleys of blaster fire, each raising just long enough to fire several rounds before he took cover once more.
Grim launched the last of his grenades as the concrete wall was obliterated.
Caskar was sent hurtling backwards by the blast as he rolled with the fall and came up on his knees, spraying Grim's position with a salvo of automatic blaster fire.
Cash and Cram found themselves being besieged by enemy fire on two fronts as they were forced to fall back behind a concrete barrier that divided seating sections. Only having a two-foot barrier to take shelter behind they took up firing positions with Cram taking those surrounding the freighter and Cash maintaining his assault on the group that occupied the stands. Five of them lay dead with Cash making it six as another rose and fired at him, standing for a fraction of a second too long, giving Cash the opportunity to put two bolts into him, one in the chest and the next through his throat.
Cram dropped two of them taking cover around the freighter, but found it difficult to get a good shot at any of the others, as they were protected by the vessel.
Blaster bolts flew all around the two commandos, occasionally grazing their armour or sending debris spraying over them as they found themselves being overwhelmed by the incoming fire.
They heard a whistle and saw a grenade go hurtling over their heads and land among the group in the grandstands, exploding in a ball of flame as it annihilated four of them, sending corpses and chunks of meat flying. The four remaining suddenly lost interest in the battle and began to retreat, running back for the safety of the freighter as their cover became scarce and most of their brethren lay dead.
Cash and Cram turned to the source of the assault and saw Wes making his way towards them as he opened fire on the group surrounding the freighter. "I thought you guys could use some help," he said.
"Jynx yes!" Cram replied with a chuckle as Wes joined them and the three commandos began their assault on the freighter.
The celebration was short lived as the ship suddenly deployed blaster cannons and began firing upon their position, the high-powered cannons shredding the entire stand as the commandos tried to take cover from the onslaught of its powerful guns.
Grim noted Wes's arrival and the turn in the tide of the battle, but his smile faded when the freighter deployed powerful guns of its own and began a devastating assault on the grandstands. Its weapon's fire giving a morale boost to the Syndicate soldiers as they joined the fight with renewed vigour.
Grim and Caskar continued their duel, each of them being hit in turn as they battled. One shot hit Caskar in the shoulder, another obliterating his knee-pad as he stumbled backwards and sprayed a volley of bolts at the lieutenant. Two of them hit Grim in the stomach, the first knocking the wind out of him before the second bolt scored the meat beneath, making him howl with pain and see stars from the agony that shot through him.
He growled and roared with fury, leaping to his feet and returning fire as, to his opponent's surprise, he charged him, blaster firing all the while.
"Caskar!" he roared as he ran at his arch nemesis, the other ducking down behind a row of ancient seats that were pulverised by the bolts.
Caskar rose and fired with one hand, his blade clutched in the other, ready to fight the marauding berserker hauling himself at him.
Grim released his blaster, letting it fall to the ground as he speared Caskar, the two of them tumbling over the barrier of the stands and down into the dirt below.
Caskar broke Grim's fall, landing with a heavy thud that drew a grunt from the deserter, as he lost his own rifle and Grim crashed on top of him.
The two of them began wrestling in the dirt, rolling back and forth, struggling for possession of the blade as Grim tried to prevent a determined Caskar from disembowelling him. Grim leapt aside as Caskar freed a hand and grabbed hold of his own combat knife, drawing it from its sheaf and attempting to drive it into his kidney. The two of them scrambled to their feet as Caskar had possession of both blades and came gliding towards Grim, slashing and thrusting at him with each in turn.
Grim kept his distance from the other commando, dodging and weaving around his attacks as he looked for an opening, waiting for his chance to disarm his opponent.
Caskar came at him again and again, stabbing, slashing, and hacking at him as he continued to shuffle about. "What's wrong Dazitz, getting a little slow in your advancing years?" Caskar taunted. "Or just upset over the fact I'm going to enjoy killing your entire team?"
Grim snorted; but didn't respond. He wasn't about to get sucked into Caskar's games.
The freighter's guns were coming perilously close to the commando's position when they suddenly exploded, being hit by a rocket from the gunship as it swooped upon the stadium, launching a duo of rockets at the freighter, the two blowing massive holes in its hull and leaving it little more than a flaming husk. The gunnery pods on either side of the gunship opened fire, pouring bolts at the syndicate rebels as they attempted to flee, the heavy repeating blasters tearing them to pieces as the battle became a scene of butchery.
The three commandos cheered the gunship's timely arrival, saving them from what would surely have been their deaths.
Caskar came at Grim again, stabbing at his stomach with his left and following it up with a slash at Grim's neck with his right.
Grim hopped aside of the thrust and brought his arm up, blocking the right with his forearm as it sparked and left a gash in the plate. He suddenly ducked down and deftly retrieved Caskar's fallen blaster with his right hand, swinging it around and blocking another strike at his chest with the rifle, grabbing the blaster with both hands he yanked it aside, making Caskar's arm go wide as he swung it up and around and brought it crashing down on Caskar's forearm, making him drop the blade in the process.
Caskar thrust the other blade forwards, driving it into Grim's abdomen, just above the hip where the thinner mesh armour was located.
Grim roared in pain, dropping the rifle he grabbed Caskar by the forearms and yanked him forwards, thrusting his head out as he did so and delivering a devastating headbutt to Caskar that shattered his visor and dented the face plate.
Reeling from the blow Caskar stumbled back, only to have Grim yank him back towards him once more and drive his boot into his crotch, doubling the deserter over before and causing him to drop the knife as Grim brought his knee smashing up into his face.
Caskar flew backwards and crashed to the ground.
Before he could move Grim was upon him, grabbing his helmet and tearing it from his head.
Caskar smiled up at the lieutenant and chuckled. "Fuck you Dazitz. You idiot; you have no idea what you're doing or who you really serve. If only you saw what I have seen."
Grim replied by driving his fist into Caskar's face, again and again.
His nose shattered, jaw broken and eyes swollen Caskar could only moan and writhe about as Grim had him pinned beneath him.
Grim stood and strode over to retrieve the blaster.
Caskar rolled over and climbed onto his hands and knees, readying himself to attack once more when he looked up and saw Grim lower the blaster at him.
"On the contrary, it's you who is fucked," Grim said as he pulled the trigger twice, putting two stun bolts into the renegade.
Caskar convulsed violently, thrashing about in the dirt before he stopped and went limp.
Grim cast the blaster aside and stooped over him, going over his person as he looked for the stolen data card. He finally found it. Holding it in his hand he stared at it for a few moments, Caskar's words playing over in his head. "If only you saw what I have seen," what had he seen? What information did this card contain that had made a loyal, dedicated solider turn renegade and desert? He found the thoughts disconcerting and considered pocketing the card and telling command it had never been found. He shook the thought aside and shrugged it off, it was none of his business. He had a job to do and he had done it, anything else was irrelevant.
Meanwhile the gunship had landed, and the remaining rebels disposed of. No quarter being shown to those who surrendered or were wounded during the battle. Happier than ever to see the welcome sight of the ship that would transport them out of there, the other commandos made a beeline for the ship while the gunners left the ship and went to Grim's aid, hauling a handcuffed Caskar on board.
The lieutenant met the others at the gunship, a smile forming on his lips as he spotted Jet and Dex safely on board.
"We had to make a brief stop-over to pick them up," the pilot said, making sure their wounded were secure. "It was tough getting them out, but we managed. Excuse the delay, but they called in an evac request, heard some unfriendly locals nearby. Said you'd approve," he explained.
Grim nodded as they boarded the ship. "I certainly do Captain. Now if you don't mind my men and I would like nothing more than to get the jynx out of here," he said.
The captain chuckled, flashing him a goofy grin underneath the helmet's visor. "No problem Lieutenant. Easier done than said."
THE END.