A knife flashed out as Kitsune rounded the corner, a silver blur ready to take their head off its shoulders. A lighting fast twist had the blade connect with Kitsune's carbon black shoulder plate in a shower of sparks, the force of the blow knocking them into the opposite wall of the hallway. The Zerbanian goon rounded on them, ready to lunge, but was stopped eyes wide with shock as two coughs emanated from Kitsune's weapon, blowing gory holes through the thugs shoddy armor, the spiny orange fiend slumped to the floor, dragging purple gore down the wall behind it as it slid down, eyes already fading with death. It's hyper muscled arms thrashed in its death reflex, trying to grab, slash, and kill. Even as its life faded away.
Kitsune stalked down the hallway, a dozen small wounds complaining as they advanced on the final chamber, reminders of the long fight through the Zerbanian Primarche's compound. In Kitsune's experience any plan that command made fell apart in the first 10 minutes of the operation, but they had to admit that this was an impressive performance from command, insofar as how badly things had gone. The first inkling of how much trouble this op would be, happened the moment it kicked off. Kitsune's team deployed from the command cruiser in orbit, if done right the launch tubes should have put them on a precise trajectory to land within a meter of the drop target, but since said launch tubes where built by the lowest bidder and maintained by underpaid junior techs who are supervised by jaded senior techs close enough to retirement not to care. That they were part of an operation at all was a bad omen.
At a precise millisecond the ship's on-board AI triggered a salvo launch of all loaded launch tubes, unfortunately due to an interrupted training exercise the launch tubes had not been checked and cleared correctly, instead of just the six manned drop pods, forty launch tubes opened in rapid succession. Launching their payloads with explosive force using hydraulic catapults. Six elite (and disposable) black ops agents, and thirty-four pancaker torpedoes. Which while embarrassing wouldn't have been an incredible issue if not for the fact that all thirty-four were the new MK78 that was undergoing final testing. Designed to penetrate the most well-defended orbital spaces, they physically destroy their own communications equipment shortly after launch and emit a high power EM field to scramble any attempted interceptor. Said EM field not only cut off any communication to or between the drop pods but also ensured the abort codes could not reach the torpedoes now screaming towards the landing site.
Kitsune immediately realized the enormity of the fuck up underway and began to take manual control of their drop pod. Throwing the maneuvering thrusters to full and dumping velocity to avoid landing at the same time as the torpedoes. Two other pods broke off from the drop formation, realizing the same thing. Kitsune could only watch in horror as the squad lead, and two fellow operatives landed directly ahead of the largest gravitational weapons strike ever deployed. Their pods flared to life, welding torch bright jets of fire bursting forth for a fast and mostly non life-threatening landing, but the three didn't even clear their pods before the first torpedo hit.
A pancaker warhead uses a small matter/antimatter reaction to generate a heinous amount of energy, which is then used to generate a gravitational field using what Kitsune presumed was witchcraft. Peak loading amounts to nearly 10 million Gs for a moment before the field rapidly collapses, but that is more than enough flatten a circle a kilometer across and reduce anything organic to a soup.
Op 3 and Op 5 regained communication with Kitsune after the barrage of torpedoes reduced the section of forest they landed in into a perfect circle of hyper compressed rock and various organic compounds. Once the Nav computers kicked back on the surviving three formed up into a drop formation, they were way off course, but they had spent too much fuel to make another course correction. It wasn't until Kitsune realized they were coming down right on top of the compound they thought the other three operatives might have been the lucky ones.
The reentry was brutal, because of the braking maneuver to avoid the torpedoes the pods entered the atmosphere at a much steeper angle than they were designed for. Kitsune's reading topped out at 20Gs, their suit and training fighting to keep them from blacking out, before quickly losing. The other operatives were even worse off. As it turns out, Gerburon's don't deal well with temperatures beyond 140 degrees and even worse when the G forces spike. Their vitals had both flatlined by the time Kitsune came to.
Once slowed down to merely supersonic speeds the air brakes deployed, laying on more Gs for Kitsune to fight through, fuel reserves where in the red so it would be a sticky landing if the pod even made it that far. The displays showed the entire compound lighting up as it tracked the orbital entry heading towards it. Pinging it with tracking lasers and radar. Getting ready to fire on the target.
Strangely enough orbital drop pods had been designed not to open before their ultimate introduction to the ground. Alarms began to blare as the pod detected multiple launches of kinetic kill vehicles inbound. Releasing a string of curses they picked up off the Gerburon's, Kitsune pull their gun from it's locking catch and fired several bursts into the locks holding the pod door in place. The pods warning alarms turned into a racket of sirens and unintelligible Gerburon warning messages spoken by a condescending older male. With a final curse Kitsune kicked the door off its hinges and triggered a maximum thrust boost from the maneuvering unit in their suit, firing themselves out of the pod and into the brutal air-stream just as several shrieking missiles impacted the pod tearing it into a fine rain of scrap. Kitsune immediately decided they would never step foot inside one of those pods again, no matter what the pay. Thankfully, the shattered cloud of their former landing pod seemed to keep the compound from detecting the Kitsune's armored form in free fall so the Zerbs didn't splatter Kitsune like an over ripe rat-fruit.
Kitsune's HUD ticked off the altitude and their suite locked itself into a stable fall position to stay within the debris cloud. No reason to move around and let the orange gorillas correct their mistake. Kitsune's armor began readying itself for flight as the altitude continued to fall low energy fields formed themselves around their armor, turning its profile into a wing. The fields weren't strong enough to offer protection, but were perfect for when you find yourself unexpectedly free falling from thirty thousand feet. Kitsune's HUD showed them slipping beneath the last of the Zerb anti air coverage as their blistering decent brought them plummeting towards the ground, pulling back hard they bled away most of their downward velocity, shooting out of the cloud of debris from their former drop-pod they began a tight circle to come around the other side of the Zerbanian compound. Silent as death, and all but invisible in the dark of night, Kitsune landed by smashing through a top story window. Just dying to unleash the rage now boiling within them.
*******
Arys paced her chambers. The growing boredom of the past few months had begun to eat away at her. After the coup in the palace she thought she was done for, but the rebels locked her up in her chambers and seemed to have forgotten about her. That was two months ago and if something didn't change soon, she would most likely lose her mind.
Giving up finding anything new in her admittedly luxurious prison, she flopped herself down on her bed; the mattress holding her as if weightless and the bedding as soft as a kiss. With a grunt of frustration she freed her horns as they tangled in the bedding for the umpteenth time. After zoning out for an indeterminate eternity, she pulled up the holo-feed. Thankfully, the new regime had forgotten to remove the default administrator account when they removed Arys's.
Arys flicked through various feeds from around the compound. A few minutes ago she had heard the parameter defenses open fire on something. The deep rumble of chain guns and the shriek of launching missiles had woken her from a rather nice nap. Just after her imprisonment, Arys had used her out of system contacts to place a bounty on the newly crowned Primarche. With the dumb brute out of the way it would be easy for her to regain control over the planet. Her mother had pulled power away from the previous warlord and unified the warring tribes under her reign. Araen was the first female to rule the Zerbanian people, and the first to unify them. Prior to her the disparate tribes had remained locked in vicious back-and-forth warfare for centuries. No one tribe able to get a serious upper hand.
Everything had gone to shit though. Araen had instituted the first of her reforms. Attempts to introduce basic education for Zerbanian children, and ways to pressure tribes that were still quietly performing raids against their neighbors. They had expected backlash against changing the Zerbanian lifestyle, but they had not been prepared for the scale of it. Several of the more backwards tribes that had never been deeply under the Primarche's influence had banded together in secret and assaulted the Primarche's compound in the dark of night. Slaughtering the elite guard before taking Araen's life.
Arys could only assume they had kept her as leverage initially. As something to hold over her mother in case their attack failed. It almost had as well, Araen was an incredible fighter. It was what had allowed her to rise to such power. Instead of bringing clans to heel through open warfare, she had challenged their leaders to individual combat, and she had always won. Arys had only been able to watch, helpless in her chambers as her mother had fought desperately against the wave of troops pouring into her chambers. She slew dozens' but they wore her down. Once she was exhausted and wounded, Tiro'Q had swept in to finish the job and claim the position of Primarche for himself. Tiro'Q had been chosen to lead the tribes that had unified against Araen. He was cunning and underhanded, and his scheming had been terribly effective against Araen's strict hold to her code of honor. She had always refused to resort to espionage, and it had cost her. Arys would not make the same mistakes as her mother. Though she would avenge her.