To Katz, it was as if his collapse was in slow motion, looking up at the rafters at the telltale flashes of a silenced pistol Razin saving his life, yet again. It was as if his feet went out from under him, going in every direction as he collapsed to the ice, his head impacting with the surface with a nasty crack.
His world exploded into pain and light. He looked up to see Mendel sliding to help him. Looking at the Commissar cradling him as his blood ran out of the vicious shoulder wound. Benny putting himself between Katz and any further danger as Mendel called for medics to haul him off of the ice. The three LSF officers set upon moments later by a pack of angry Ontarian women who charged over the boards and onto the ice during the chaos.
Mendel bent down to look at Katz in concern, and glanced behind him, breathing heavily. He was saying something, Katz was sure, but everything was flashing and the only sound to him was the thundering beat of his heart.
Katz winced in pain as he struggled to sit upright, reaching a hand up to his shoulder, and coming away slick with blood. The bullet had passed through the fleshy part of his upper arm, luckily missing the bone, but cutting deeply.
Tournequet! A medic called as they arrived ordered, pulling something out of a bag and wrapping it around the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, knowing that there were others out there, and if they were desperate enough to shoot Katz in broad daylight in the middle of a ceremony, then they wouldnt hesitate to finish the job.
He gritted his teeth; he needed to get away while the crowd was still seething around the stadium. But how?
His world blurred again, as he felt himself being lifted onto a stretcher. And his world faded into black, despite his frantic struggle against the concussion.
***
Deputy chief of Toronto Stations LPI Templeman reached center ice and crouched down to come around the brawling crowd, where a lone medic was covering the chief to keep him safe. For all his failings, he was still a damn fine Police Officer, and didnt deserve to get shot.
Templeman slid across the ice, heading after the medics that had taken Katz away, going through the doors that led to the locker rooms and came face to face with a scared young Navy lieutenant, who looked like a frightened rabbit.
Where did they go? Templeman barked with all the authority he could muster.
The lieutenant shrugged and gestured to the large body of the crowd still sprinting for cover.
Damn it! Templeman stood up cursing. Katz was lost in the crowd, and god alone knew where by now. He watched the LPI in the crowd, helplessly outnumbered, brawling with Katz supporters, BILLIES rizing and falling, as around them some of the anti-Katz population were fighting furiously to help them.
They were just out numbered and Toronto Station wasnt equipped for riot control, it only had a population of twelve hundred normally, but factor in the game and the influx of Hamilton and Severan residents, as well as the Junkers who were in from Thunder Bay, and the police just simply couldnt cope.
More officers, from god alone knew where were spilling into the stadium spilling officers out of them, trying to secure the area, some kind of SO-19 armed response unit from the looks of it. Probably marine, how theyd gotten on board was anyones guess, but they just werent enough not enough to stop that many people fighting. Not without some serious violence.
They fired tear gas, to Templemans shock. Indiscriminately firing into a crowd that they had no idea who was friend and who was foe. The brutality of the attack only seemed to enrage the fans, who stormed the woefully inadequate force as they struggled to reload the gas canisters. Learning a hard lesson that using force like that was always a recipe for disaster.
Templeman was angry, furious that he hadnt been more proactive in controlling a crowd of that size, but then theyd never had a problem in the past. He cursed under his breath as he dashed towards the surveillance station, maybe if they were lucky theyd know which way Katz had gone.
He had enough time to step into the locker room area, when he felt the sharp blow of the hockey stick, looking at a bespectacled man vaguely resembling an accountant as he crashed to the ground. The second blow knocked him out cold.
***
Angie Katz said, cradling his arm as the Medics carried him towards the medical station, keeping his head down.
Shes all right, we need to get you out of here One of the security officers, an SCRA marine in a bad rent-a-cop uniform with Security plastered all over it insisted as they ducked through a side door and down a flight of steps heading towards the hangar bay. The Security officer trying to guide Katz back towards the Social Credit at the far end of the stations bay.
He drew up short, staring at the men searching the area already, no doubt hurriedly searching for them.
This way, Ivanov said breathlessly, stepping out of a side access corridor holding a Coalition Assault Rifle equipped with a rather nasty looking grenade launcher.
The Socs aging Technical Specialist had a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and his orange coveralls partially undone. Not the worlds greatest engineer, but still one tough old son of a
Where are we going? The marine asked in confusion.
Trust Ivanov, Ivanov actually have brain, Da? He tapped his temple with a dirty finger. Pashas down below, set up bunker. Near reactor so heavily shielded from scanner, da?
Follow him. Katz ordered, shaking his head to keep the pain from clouding his vision. There were other people gathering in the dock area; after running in a full panic, they were finally beginning to feel safe, slowing down and turning to look back towards the centre of the station, where the sound of alarms could be heard.
He was feeling a bit dizzy from the blood that was soaking through his shirt, and running down his arm. And he held his hand up as the blood dripped off of it, the men carrying him jogging hurriedly down the side access corridor entering an elevator that closed and swept them deep into the station and away from prying eyes
Katz bounced on the stretcher, trying to think despite the rush of pain. Ivanov, youre going to attract attention with that thing, he commented gesturing to the vicious looking gun.
The Marine took it from Ivanov checking the breech of the weapon and standing in a pose that left no question that he was a killing machine if he needed to be.
The doors of the elevator slid open on overturned equipment lockers, a terrifying Pasha standing there with his assault rifle trained on the opening doors. The CPO relaxing when he realized who it was, and why they were there.
Privet, Comrades, Pasha intoned. How do you think were doing Kapitan?
Katz smiled up at his friend and chief of the Social Credits enlisted men. Were cut off from the ship, hiding in the bowels of an unfinished station, Id say were doing just about normal for us
Normal for us, Razin said appearing from the stairwell, his pistol drawn. Scanning over the barricades. Well then were definitely screwed Comrades.
"Patch me into the Comm system," Katz said. "I need to..."
Through out the station, his voice rang, much to Katz's surprise. His final message, the one he had composed in the event that he was killed or incapacitated. Someone had decided to play it.
Ben was getting worried, as he neared the doors to the front he could see several LPI Units blocking off the building, likely getting ready for a counter-assault...Ben did not have time to curse when a LPI Officer, just getting out of a brawl with two Civilian fans suddenly spotted him, the expression was strange, as if he was trying to place Ben, dispite his disguise, after a moment he seemed to recognize him and his features darkened, starting to run towards him, a Baton in hand.
Ben got into a Combat Stance, his arms steady and ready to snap at a moment's notice, when the officer got close and swung from a high angle with his Baton, Ben side-stepped it, his breathing starting to get harder due to adrenaline rushing in his veins.
Ben countered by lashing out with a vicious kick that caught the officer in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain as Warner followed up with a strike with his elbow to the middle of his bent over back, sending him to the ground, unconcious, brushing himself off Ben knelt over and took the Baton, when he got back up he was met with a Baton to the face, hitting him in the forehead. Ben stumbled back at the unexpected attack, a line of blood now pouring from a gash now appeared upon his forehead where the Baton hit, Ben barely had time to block hoirzontally with his own Baton when it came, getting himself back into combat, their Batons locked, Ben lashed out with his free hand in a suckerpunch, hitting the Uniformed Officer in the Kidney, a cry of pain rewarded Ben as his 'nemesis' tried to recover, moving quickly Ben escaped into the crowd, dropping the Baton and heading towards the Fire-Escape Door, dodging scattered fighting and Tear-Gas as the Police attempted to suppress the angered crowd, Ben took out his Comm-link and tuned it to the Toronto Cell's own Comm-link.
"Sleeping Lennin, this is Renegade, i am heading to Extraction Point Alpha, Phase II of Operation Lockdown is now in effect, all Unit Leaders head to your objectives." he softly spoke as he reached the door and headed outside into the cold...
---Meanwhile---
Rick Corbin was working with his 'maintenance crew' in the upper sector of Toronto, near the Control Center for Toronto, 6 Men in Worker Uniforms carrying boxes of 'tools', the Center was held by LPI and Station Officials at the moment, but that would change soon enough...As he received the signal from Ben over the comm-link he turned to his fellow Freedom Fighters and nodded.
"It is time, our Objective is the Command Center, Delta Team is holed up near the Reactor Core to help prevent anyone from distrupting the station, That's Five of our own, Beta Team is near the Docking Bays, trying to take control of that sector, another Five and finally there is Gamma Team, Nine Men attempting to seize control of the Life-Support Systems, and Us, Alpha Team...Looks like we get the hardest part..." He calmly spoke, keeping strong in the face of the odds which were stacked against them.
The Geurillia's nodded and set down their boxes, two pulled out Combat Pistols, checked their Clips before taking up positions beside the door, the other Four had larger boxes with Combat Assault Rifles, older models but were suitable for their tasks.
As they took up positions at the Door Rick nodded to a young-looking lad who nervously reached for the door switch, when he pressed it and the door slid open they burst into the room, rick shouted to the suprised Techs and Local Officers who had looked up at the sudden interruption.
"Freeze! Kindly remove yourselves from any and all Controls and stand in the centre of the room!" he shouted harshly, his tone indicating he weas not joking, his Rifle aimed at the head of a younger LPI Officer who swollowed as he tried to reason with Rick.
"You don't want to do this...Put the rifle down..." he reasoned with Rick, unfortunately for him Rick was not listening and the LRF Agents started to herd the Techs and several LPI Officers to the center of the large circular room, the center was in essense a pit Rick was left with a single LPI, the very same one who tried to presuade him out of his course of action, Rick reached into his Maintenance pocket and pulled out his Comm-Link.
"This is Laughing Joker, the Nest is ours at the moment, Casualties on both sides are negative." he commented as he kept the rifle trained with one hand on the back of the officer...Waiting for instructions...
The bright purple and blue of the singularity turned into the cold black reality of space. Lachlan's Roc-class bomber had just entered Ontario from California. He never quite got used to using jump holes. Exiting them was like hitting a wall during a full sprint. It was as if subspace had shoved him out distasetfully, one less intruder in their realm. It always brought his lunch into his larynx, leaving a nasty taste in his mouth. He cursed and tried to swallow, only making it worse.
"Form on my wing," he barked at his wingmen.
"Roger," squaked one, followed by a similar remark and a complaint about jump holes from the other.
As soon as his flight computer registered the group formation, he set course for Toronto station. His combined force of a bomber and two fighters wasn't enough to seriously damage anything, but diversions were as important as anything else in guerilla tactics.
"Grandfather to Renegade, come in Renegade." Lachlan tried his comms.
He cursed to himself, realizing his remedial communication abilities to Huron are being jammed. Immediately, he knew something was up. Not long after, Toronto Station was in visual range. He repositioned his course to the station between him and Battleship Ottawa, effectively blocking their long range sensor sweeps. He disengaged the cruise engines and went into passive mode. This reduced his radar signature, but also turned his own scanning ability into nothing besides. It was a calculated risk he had to take.
"What the hell was the codename," Lachlan thought to himself. He always thought it ridiculous to have so many codenames for different cells, but they were a necessity of the times. The LRF had to assume at all times that the LSF was listening in.
"Laughing Joker this is grandfather, we are in visual range of Toronto," Phoenix said. "What the hell is going on over at Huron? I can't hail Renegade, and I need a sit-rep yesterday!"
The doctor explained, it was a very simple process. He had to not cough until the wounds had healed. He smiled, and nodded, and agreed not to cough. Mentally he called the man a moron and was considering having him fired.
Angie stared in horror at the limp body of Alvin. The sight froze her in her spot. Could he be....dead...? She tried to reach for him, but his orders rang through her head. He had planned this. She knew she would have to do this for him. She swallowed heavily, turned, and ran. Her chest heaved as she pushed through the panicking crowd. Multiple thoughts boiled through her head. A man fell in front of her as the tumultuous crowd began to attack one another, throwing the weak onto the ground and curb-stomping them. She jumped over the man who was beating the poor fellow; she had no time to help. She only focused on the task that had been assigned to her.
After pushing her way through the mosh pit, she ran down a series of corridors, turning down a remembered path. She halted, almost falling over as she approached the door. Staggering, she leaned against the frame of the door, trying to catch her breath. The door opened with a sigh as she righted herself, walking inside.
The office was clean and orderly; a perfect image of the man who spent hours toiling inside on his speeches and campaign plans. The briefcase sat beside the plain oak desk; a lap top sitting closed on the top. She took both, stuffing them into a pack that had the SCRA star on it. The name Alvin Katz was stenciled on the side. She angrily shouldered it, reminded of what fueled her.
With new energy, she ran towards the landing bay. The crowd had spilled into the corridors; some were confused and injured, others were healthy and itching for a fight. She dodged any who got in her. A few tried to take a swing, but their rage and injuries seemed to handicap them. The landing bay was only through the next door....
She turned sideways and dived through the opening door, believing that waiting would be too long. She rolled, landing on her face on the cold metal of the deck. She Raised herself slowly, blood running from a cut above her eyebrow. The docking bay lights seemed bright as she tried to survey the area. A few Patriots sat in the bay along with a few Civilian models. Close by, thank God, was her trusty Barghest the Sewing Machine.
She stood with renewed energy, sprinting towards the entrance hatch of the Rogue bomber. A bolt blared past her head and slammed into the Barghest's hull. She didn't turn, realizing the Police were here. Not many, but they were here. The hatch of the ship opened, willed by the proximity of her neural implant. the door shut as quickly as she ducked inside, stumbling again as she entered a more confined area. Still with a bit of haste, Angie proceeded to the cockpit, hitting the appropriate switches as she passed them on her way to the pilot's seat.
The ships Cyclone engine roared to life; the hull vibrating for a moment as the electric turbines stabilized after their usual hectic start. Not even waiting for them to reach maximum capacity, she shrugged the ruck-sack off and sat in the chair, pulling the safety restraints across her chest. As soon as her hands were free, she grabbed the controls and edged the behemoth bomber off the ground.
The engines whined as the ship turned awkwardly towards the closed hangar doors. The large torpedo tubes on the side glowed a fierce blue as the Super Nova Antimatter Cannon charged and fired. The explosion was blinding as the doors disintegrated. Warning lights blared fiercely; the atmosphere was depressurized and loose objects were sucked out of the gaping hole in the door. Pressure doors clamped shut to contain the sudden breach.
The Barghest's engines illuminated the bay; tongues of flame erupting from the rear as the ship shot forward from the breach. A Patriot was easing up on its navigational thrusters towards the breach, search-lights active to peer inside. The Barghest erupted from the hole like a bat out of Hell, tearing through the light fighter with its armored, bladed prow. It exploded in a brilliant ball of orange and red as the bomber tore through as if it were gossamer, continuing on with its path.
Angie clenched at the controls with whitening knuckles, her teeth clenched as her body was fueled by pure adrenalin. She had no idea what was going on in the station, nor did she care. She was probably the only one to have gotten out. And Alvin....She moaned in despair. How could she not have checked on him? She left him...to die!
She set the ship in autopilot, plotting a course to the planned rendezvous point. She could not think about piloting as her body was depraved of the adrenalin that had spurred her into action. She only thought about Alvin. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't.
Angie brought her legs up, resting her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. She buried her face into her knees and cried for the first time in fifteen years.
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"
========battlecruiser ft Louisbourg 20 minutes after attack=====
sir reading explosive decompression on toronto station and sevral riots ..also codded transmissions cant determin friend or foe" piped his XO from CIC1" jim sat back his tacnet blazeing to life catalogueing all feeds of the event "security teams to boarding station s standby to send riot squads aboard,we have to help the LPI and prep for combat as well gentleman priortize civilians and liberty personel Evac as nessary" the massive Fortress-class assult cruiser raced twords the station and hard sealed her riot men boarded and helped with crowd control the soldiers wated guarding her boarding area and stood by for evacuation orders or orders if needed to capture the base,her sheilds and weapons were now fully armed she hailed" toronto station this is Captian James Patterson liberty Security force ,we are here in intrest of safeguarding liberty personell and any fleeing civilians we wil ldefend ourselfs if attacked and i have marines ready incase LPI needs help,i ask were not engaged were simply helping containte riots and evac libertionian assets if ordered also i figure i might add if i need to i weil lsend men to secure the base.. do not have to force my hand i am not your enemy"
he expected a ferice attack to drive back his ship and men ...but the citadelle was waiting and he stil lhadent gotten a reply from Isabelle,but he wars ready he would get those people out by any means nessary as onterio was most likely lost but he wouldent let needless non combatants die
"Grandfather, this is Laughing Joker, Operation Lockdown is in effect, Renegade is currently on Huron attempting to organize efforts Planet-wise, Elements Laughing Joker, Hidden Beast, Silvermine and Sloth are attempting to carry out Objectives as planned." he said before the LSF's transmission came through, guiding the Officer to the 'pit' which had two guarding it, rifles trained while the other LRF manned the stations previously occupied.
Rick went to the Communications Terminal and activated it.
"This is a Representaive of the Forces in charge of this Installation, we do not wish to harm any Citizens of our Home nor any Liberty Citizens, we want this as peaceful as possible and no loss of life, surely you can understand, but we will not be suppressed, You will move your ship to a distance of '20 K' and any and all LPI, Naval and Civilian Personell shall be evacuated, do not attempt to board, while we want this to be as bloodless as possible, should you force our hands we will do what we must to secure our Home...Do you understand?" he waited for a reply, muting the Comm when a LRF Agent to his left smiled and saluted Rick.
"We have access to the Defensive Systems, but we still cannot access hanger Control. " the older-looking man said, Rick smirked aswell and nodded.
"Very good, i hope we will never need them however...Try to establish contact with Sloth and see how their doing on the Hanger Objective."
As the man saluted and walked off Rick sighs deeply...This is going to be a long day...He could feel it...
It had been an hour, the medics had patched up his wound, and given him something for the concussion. Letting him sit up and get an idea of what was going on around the station from Lt. Razin.
He was watching the approach of the Liberty Cruiser the LNS-Ft. Louisberg, no doubt closing with the intent of storming the station and restoring control the only way that special ops marines knew how, with the bloodied fist of absolutely dominating firepower.
This cant be allowed to happen, Katz said wrestling himself to his feet. If that ship docks then were all going to die. I dont care what their officers think, there is only one thing theyre trained for Special ops teams know nothing about crowd control.
Razin looked at him worriedly as he wobbled across to the barricade. Get me through to the station Chief
Hes in the infirmary, Pasha reported. The LRF have control of Operations, but how long they can hold onto it is anyones guess. We should be thinking of getting you out of here.
I am not running away! Katz snapped angrily as he rounded on Pasha. I am not abandoning these people to those thugs he looked at the Marine Security officer. Get me to my campaign office, now. And tell the LRF in ops that I need to be patched into the Comm frequencies.
He rested a hand on a bulkhead as a wave of nausea gripped him, the wound in his shoulder a stabbing pain that almost caused him to black out. Get me up there now.
His men obeyed, Razin organizing them to form up around Katz protectively, assault rifles and pistols raised. Returning to the elevator and ascending through the station.
It wasnt an easy passage for him, and as the doors swept open on the promenade, it was like walking into Armageddon.
What was to happen then was up to Katzs ability to talk. He kept putting on foot in front of the other, the grim-faced SCRA soldiers around him brokered no trouble, and if any of the rioters thought to cause trouble. One look at Katz walking through their midst, on his feet and walking, caused them to slow and stop.
Alicia waited nervously in the offices where she, and a number of other campaign workers had managed to secure themselves. She hadnt been able to find Mendel. But what with the rush and bustle from being told where she was supposed to meet Katz, and the resulting chaos from being he was coming, she didnt think too much about it.
She paced nervously fiddling with one of the suits, one of Katzs favourites; shed tried to be discerning as he had rifled through Katzs wardrobe, but instead had just grabbed a couple in the hopes of getting the right one.
There was a rush of gasps and sighs of relief as Katz entered the office. The left side of his shirt was a mass of blood and a nano-med kit had been strapped over his gunshot wound. He was dangerously pale, looking like death reheated. But it was unmistakable the fiery determination in his eyes.
Suit, he commanded. Shrugging off the blood stained shirt and making for a small sink, trying to scrub as much of the blood off of his face as he could. It wasnt perfect, but it would have to do.
Around him one of the Campaigners had grabbed a Comm recorder and under Razins direction was interfacing it with the main communications system of the station.
Katz winced as he slid the shirt over his injured arm; the wound wasnt closing properly, he needed a doctor and soon. He did the best he could, knowing that it would reopen if he moved too swiftly, and the last thing he needed was to bleed all over the campaign office floor.
He tried to pull on the jacket, but the motion was too much for him, Alicia stepping forward to help him with it. He painfully tied his tie with one hand, glancing back out of the front windows to the gathering crowd. The rumour that he was here had spread, and the crowd that had come were a mixture of his supporters and those that were opposed to him. Both groups drawn by the surprise of the fact that he was still alive.
He should have stopped, taken a moment to say something to them, to remind them how much he cared, and Katz regretted not doing so. After all they had been through, he couldnt figure it out.
Will sat down behind his desk. The Ontarian Democratic Party flag clearly seen behind him. Yet more regrets, all for the sake of his duty. He was railroading everyone and everything he loved all because he was so focused on doing what he felt was the right thing, no matter the consequences
===Battlecruiser ft louisbourg=====
jim sighed..this was complicateing things he replyed to the new transmission "this is not an act of anger if i wanted to board and capture id be shooting and disableing the station turrets ,even im not that stupid to charge a station grade razor mount im here to get my people out theres countless riots going on right now ive allready dispatched riot teams to help contain them the shuttles should of docked by now.
jim sighed there was a fight no matter what course of action he took he resumed his transmission "i want this as bloodless as you but I am getting MY comrades out were purely defencive right now and frankly have enough firepower to demolish outright toronto station but id never do that at the same time my ship would be sacrificed as well im carrying out my orders and they are to evac all esentally personell bearing liberty colors,if the station is indeed under what i feel a hostile takeover il lact acordingly,fire on my ship or hinder my evac of men and civilians and il lbe forced to respond acordingly,we can negoacate about this,just y3esterday i spoke with citizen katz about superviseing resupply and troop transfers of the ottawa and if needed evacuations of any military assts trust me when i say this im not your enemy unless you make me it"
he cut the transmission awaiting a reply as the ship closed at a slower pace she was about 10k out jim felt something was wrong...very wrong
Rick frowned deeply at this, as he played Katz's Transmission he heard something, a small 'hissing' sound comming from the door to Ops.
A glow could be seen in the frame of the door, Rick started to curse in Libertonian and even a few select Kusari curses as he realized that Security had finally managed to send a squad up.
He looked to the men guarding the door, giving hand signals to take cover behind a Console while he ducked behind one aswell, the ones by the Pit crouched as Rick took careful aim with his Rifle at the door, taking the safety off as he grabbed his Comm-Link.
"This is Laughing Joker, our neighbors have arrived and i believe they have a loaded shotgun, holding until further orders..." he spoke, remaining as calm as he can before he put away the Comm-Link. Now using both hands to aim and help keep the recoil down.
"Comrades, switch to single-shot fire, even spacing between each one, remember only to wound if possible...We don't want a bloodbath..."
As the door started to spark and bend inwards from the heat placed upon it finally it gave away, seeming to explode inwards in a shower of sparks and smoke, everyone inside Ops had to shut their eyes briefly from the intensity of the light, mere seconds after it began, armoured Riot Officers started to charge inwards, intent upon restoring order, Rick started to open fire, aiming for non-vital sections of the body...The Battle for Ops had begun.
---Meanwhile---
Ben was at a LRF HQ, hidden near one of the Mining Settlements, it was underground and thus less easy to detect by normal means, a shed above acted as the enterance which had a long starwary leading downwards, it had taken the LRF Months to dig out this tunnel in secrecy...But it suited them.
As Ben reached the bottom of the stairs he was met with LRF Coordinators, the sounds of Communications Machinery and LRF Agents moving about to prepare to deploy to different settlments.
Ben walked to the Centre of the room, brushing off a LRF Medic who tried to clean up his Forehead which had dried/frozen blood upon it now. Ben looked at the Maps placed before him, Schematics of Toronto Station and several of the larger settlments...From here he would organize the LRF and prepare for the worse, reaching into his Comm-Link he smiled.
"Grandfather, this is Renegade. Honey i'm Home..."
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