Oberst Alison Falke marched down the winding corridors of the Osterholz, a Rheinwehr Cruiser previously stationed in Bremen, but currently stationed at the Hudson Jump Gate in Hamburg to assist in the defence of the Fatherland. Six Rheinwehr marines trailed behind, hoping that the Polizei Oberst would not breath fire on them. She had immediately been established as angry, and they had kept at a distance from her for the entire march to the cell.
Falke ran a hand through her short, grey hair as she marched in anger, her Polizei grade boots echoing in the tight space. She was fifty-nine years old, with short hair that had been grey for at least ten years, and sharp blue eyes that exhaled fear into those she challenged. Years of bad eating and little exercise had destroyed her figure, but she didn't care. She wasn't the type of person who cared about her looks. Just so long as she kept the eyes, she was as happy as a billionaire.
She was angry because she didn't need the constant assignments being pushed into her face. She had pilots of all ranks to train, she had a case about a human thigh ending up in a butcher shop, and now this? Inspekteur Putzkanner was driving her mad.
But she had other things to worry about. Specifically, the prisoner which had taken her away from her more important duties. Commissar Captain Alvin Katz of the Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army. She had no idea how the man had ended up on the Osterholz, or even why he had been in Bremen (the place she had been told he had been captured), but she was used to that. The Rheinwehr only shared details on a "need to know" basis. Ten years with them, and thirty with the Polizei had taught her to never expect much from them. All she knew was that the prisoner needed transportation to Vierlande, and the Rheinwehr couldn't be bothered to do it themselves. Typical.
The marines started to move at a faster pace, and she knew they would only risk moving closer if they needed to move infront. And the only reason she could think for them to do that was to unlock a door. Or a cell.
Unsurprisingly, she was correct. She saw the cell long before the marines overtook her. Infact, they only moved ahead of her at the last second, to keep her anger away from them. One of them removed a key from her breast pocket, and pushed it into the lock like a train on a track entering a tunnel. No mistakes.
The cell door screeched as it opened, and Falke actually wondered why there were cells with steel bars and not toughened glass walls. Were they trying to create a 16th Century prison on the Osterholz, or was the Rheinwehr as badly funded as the Polizei? If she were to bet on the answer, she would prefer to choose the second, but would pick the first everyday.
She examined her prisoner as he stepped forward from his bench. He stood proud, despite the fact that he was only wearing a dirty green cover-all. It was similar to hers, except the fabric on the prisoner-grade ones were designed to be itchy. Another deterrent from performing illegal operations in Rheinland. His hair had not been cut, and it was not starting to fall over his ears. His eyes showed determination, and may have been a challenge for even Oberst Falke to erode.
'You're being shipped to Vierlande.' Falke said this with an expressionless tone. Never show feelings in front of prisoners. 'You will come with us at once.' She watched as the prisoner stepped forward again, and moved out of the cell. The marines kept their weapons trained on the back of his head, with Oberst Falke very close to their line of fire. She knew that the prisoner would not try to escape. He wanted to help the people the way he believed he was doing so, and wouldn't throw that away. Not yet, anyway.
They waited, silently, on the dark side of the planet, shielded from prying eyes and prying sensors. There weren't many. But unlike last time, there didn't need to be.
A small strike force of fighters, bombers, and one gunboat, once piloted by Alvin Katz himself: the CPW Social Credit. Repaired in Bremen after its self-destruction when Katz had surrendered, it was now under the command of a different Commissar entirely. A Commissar far less forgiving than Katz.
Commissar-Lieutenant Commander Vicenta Gonzalez sat in the captain's chair, face hard, her black hair falling over her shoulders.
"Status report," she ordered.
"Nothing is happening yet, Commissar," the crewman on sensors advised. "The Westfalen has not picked us up."
"Any sign of the prisoner transport?"
"Long-range indicates a transport has docked with the cruiser at the Hudson gate."
She nodded. "Are the marines prepped?"
"Da."
"Good. Maintain radio silence until they come in range. This is our last chance, comrades."
The Coalition force waited, never breathing a word to each other, on the dark side of Kiel. Waited and watched.
This time, they would not fail.
Amidst the troop complement sat an obtuse shape, hunched over and folded up atop its stalky twin-kneed legs. multiple red dots sat in a spherical shape set in an elongated chassis. The shoulders were non-existent, only two gun pods sprouting from the top back of its hull. One pod held a small crate of rockets with six firing tubes; the other was a cannon that was designed to punch holes in tanks. Two arms poked out from the sides, rather long yet thin. In them was held a rather large battle rifle with a drum clip, optical scope on top, and a bayonet under the barrel. On each side of the hull was painted the symbol of the Coalition, not a scratch to be found on the artistic design. Under the head, across the broad, armored chest was written the letter "V".
One of the fleshy marines looked up at the battlesuit, his eyes taking in the armored sight before him. With a hum, the machine's head turned to look at the scrutineers eyes, the red orbs set in its own head regarding him with the same gaze. Slowly, the marine smiled, giving a nod of approval. The machine nodded back, understanding what the man desired to say.
A private channel activated in the machine's thought process, the voice of an unnamed black-ops scientist of the TOASTER project filling its electronic mind. "Viatcheslav. This test proves your worthiness to the Revolution. We will be monitoring your progress. We see one thing we don't like and your existence is forfeit." His voice was harsh, commanding, and somewhat threatening.
"Understood," The machine replied in a monotone. With that, the channel was cut and Viatcheslav was left to ponder in the silence of its own programs and algorithms.
A red light flashed to the starboard side of the holding area. Marines whispered to themselves, assuring them it would be alright. A few even said a prayer to whatever deity they worshiped. The armored brute towards the back simply stood up with a hiss of hydraulics and a hum of synthetic muscle. The rifle was brought up to a resting ready position, the bayonet turned up so as not to accidentally spear an ally combatant. All forces were turned towards the boarding door, awaiting the signal to charge to glory.
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"
The humming of the electronics imbedded within the Osterholz were impossible to hear as the procession passed through each corridor. Alvin Katz infront, with Oberst Falke and the six marines behind, weapons trained on the back of his head. But if he ducked, Falke thought to herself, they would be firing at empty space and he would be escaping. But she doubted he would try and make a move anyway. He had too much to live for in his mind.
They cleared the narrow corridors and arrived in the hangar bay. The Ragnar idly sat in the bay, taking up 60% of the free space. The Osterholz was not designed to store other craft, instead sporting more armour than most ships of its class, and an additional turret to give the Battleship it normally escorted a helping hand.
'Move him into the ship, and lock him in the cell.' Falke said, once again keeping emotion out of her voice.
'Jawohl.' One of the marines replied, and took charge in escorting the prisoner into the depths of the beast. Falke watched the convoy until they were out of sight, and then moved towards her Wraith with all the grace of a beetle.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
*Arriving late as usual, Kanze Kurlei opened the maintenance access hatch of Bonn station, with his alibi of checking things out just for safe measure, he was sure his job would go flawless and the RFP would search for someone they already had tabs on. Since his real boss hadn't contacted him in ages, Kanze needed some sport, and this commander of SCRA would be just the thing...Kanze was wearing a normal repair man spacesuit (don't ask where he got it from of course) and on his back was a bag with a heavily modified rifle from one of the boss' associates. It was powerful enough to maybe shut down an engine, and kanze wanted to see how good the bullet penetration would be, the boss' associate claimed it to be strong enough to shoot down fighters and take out some armor like transports and such...yeah trial time! Pulling the rifle out, Kanze waited, having the entire area almost clear due to the RFP and RM wanting nothing to disturb them...laying down on the metal platform he would be hard to see, but at this angle, he would be able to see the convoy easily...yeah everything was going to be cool....* "Time to get this party started...."
Oberst Falke was greeted by the familiar crushing into her seat as she launched out of the Osterholz and into open space, near the Hudson jump gate. Ten years in the Rheinwehr, and then thirty in the Polizei meant that she hardly noticed the forces being exerted on her body at the moment of launch. She examined her instruments like a pianoist preparing to create a masterpiece. The ejector lever was covered with dust. She never let anyone clean it, because it showed that she never had to use it in her ship. All other buttons showed active use, the thin layer of plastic covering them was gone, revealing the true nature of her ship. She could see the thin wires leading away from each button, ready to relay commands to whatever system they controlled.
She pulled her Wraith to an abrupt halt as her watched the Ragnar Class Transport pulled away from the Osterholz with the beauty of a leech detaching itself from a human limb. Its impulse engines fired up, speeding the Transport past her idle Wraith at eighty metres per second. Falke tuned into the comm. chatter, and was just in time to hear the acting Kapitans joke.
'This is your capturer speaking. We're looking at about a three hour flight through space to Vierlande. You'll be able to enjoy the beautiful views of planet Hamburg and Kiel. You won't be able to see Hannover until later on in the flight, where we will be docking with Vierlande to unload you.
'During your stay on this luxurious transport, please enjoy the complimentary food the guards will be able to feed you, due to your shackles preventing you from feeding yourself.
'We hope that you enjoy your flight with Ragnar Spaceline, and if you have any complaints please forward them to your ass.' A burst of laughter was heard before the transmission was abruptly cut off. Transport Kapitans were always so full of themselves. But they mostly brought a grin to her face.
'Convoy treasure,' Falke spoke clearly into her microphone, 'this is Escort Leader. We are formatted on you and ready to go. All escorts check in.' She waited while the nineteen other escorts checked in. Eleven Phantoms, five Mjolnirs and four Wraiths were the escort for the trip, as both the Admiral and the Inspekteur did not want to take any chances.
Once the last escort had checked in, Falke continued her hailing of the transport. 'Convoy treasure, we are ready to depart, and are formatted on you. Commence cruise charge when ready.'
There was a seconds pause before the Kapitan replied. 'Roger that Escort Leader. We hope you enjoy your flight with Ragnar Spaceline, and if you have any complaints please forward them to...' There was a seconds delay, as the Kapitan debated whether to say "your ass". Eventually he decided against it, and finished the sentence with 'the front desk.'
Falke heard the familiar charge of her cruise engines as the auto-pilot activated. She could faintly hear other pilots removing electronic devices from bags and filing some reports. Falke did something similar, with the only difference being that she was going to read a book. It was entitled "An officer and a criminal", and was a crime novel based on New Berlin. All of the characters had a fictionous origin, but they all behaved the same way as the real men and women that inspired their creation.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
"Comrade-Commissar. The convoy is headed this way," the sensor operator said. "When shall we move?"
"When they're too close to do anything about us," Vicenta said. "Maintain position until my order."
"Yes ma'am." The strike force waited, until just the right moment...
As the convoy passed close to Kiel, Vicenta gave an order. "Jam their comms. Don't want them crying to Westfalen for help."
"Understood, Comrade-Commissar." The comms operator flipped a switch on the control panel, and the Rheinland convoy's comms went blank.
"Open up a channel to the strike wing."
More switches were flipped, and comms opened up to the rest of the SCRA force.
"Attention strike wing. This is Commissar-Lieutenant Commander Vicenta Gonzalez. Convoy is in range. Move out!"
The wing fired up engines and moved to intercept the convoy. Cruise disruptors streaked through space and converged on the Ragnar's engines, stopping it dead in its tracks.
Vicenta opened up a channel to the Ragnar. "Rheinland swine, this is Commissar-Lieutenant Commander Vicenta Gonzalez of the Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army. You have something that belongs to us. Give us back Commissar-Captain Katz or we will take him by force. This is not negotiable."
She sat back, daring them to refuse.
Oberst Falke looked up from her book as they passed Kiel. She rarely had the opportunity to see Kiel, as it was close to the front lines and Polizei ships rarely patrolled that way. The grey, lifeless planet looked back at her, as if each crater was an eye.
If she had not been looking at that exact moment, she would not have seen it. The faintest of reflections of the sunlight on metal objects, before the objects moved at an angle where their surfaces were mostly facing away from the celestial body. Falke had been in the services for fourty years, and her finely trained eyes knew the difference between a chance reflection off of a satelliete and a chance reflection off of a hidden ship.
'Westfalen, Westfalen, this is Oberst Falke. I am requesting you scan the following co-ordinates.' She had only just finished her sentence when she realised her Wraiths long range communications array was being jammed. She ran a quick diagnostic program, but the results were consistant with her guess. She could almost smell the enemy pilots sweating now.
She punched one of the faded buttons to open up short range communications with the other escorts.
'Escort team, this is Escort Leader. Our long range communications are being jammed, I repeat, our long range...' She felt the sudden decelleration of the ship in her muscles, and she instinctively forced herself into the seat with all of her strength. She and the others had been formatted on the Ragnar, so the computer would automatically keep pace with the ship. If the ship were disrupted, then the escorts would compensate for that by matching the disrupted speed.
She was about to begin giving out orders to the other escorts when a strong voice boomed through the speakers. It sounded smug. 'Rheinland swine, this is Commissar-Lieutenant Commander Vicenta Gonzalez of the Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army. You have something that belongs to us. Give us back Commissar-Captain Katz or we will take him by force. This is not negotiable.'
So, the SCRA was taking their beloved Commissar-Captain back by force? Not if she had anything to say about it, Falke thought. She resumed her communication with the other escorts, and added the Ragnar Kapitan to the channel.
'We do not surrender to terrorists. We will fight for the Kanzler and for Rheinland. Kapitan, that Ragnar has been fitted with the best shield we could mount, so they're not blowing your ship to pieces easily. But they may try and board you to get Katz back. Have you forces mobilise and create defensive points around the ship. Escorts, we must hold these ships off while the Ragnar has a chance to charge its cruise engines and escape.' She received several "Jawohls" in response to this.
The Coalition ships were now visable, and were moving into flanking positions arond the escorts. 'Kapitan, tell them we'd sooner surrender our strudels than surrender our prisoner and betray the Kanzler. They can try all they might, but a patriotic force is a victorious force.'
'Jawohl, Oberst,' the Kapitan replied, and began to relay the message to Gonzalez with an equally smug attitude in his voice.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
A cold laugh. "Patriotism? That is all you have? Do you think there is one of us who would not walk into the gates of hell for the Coalition, for the Revolution, for the People? Our will is stronger than yours, Rheinlanders." She gave the signal for all ships to arm weapons.
"Now. One last chance, fascist pigs. Either you surrender our Commissar, or you surrender your lives. Hand him over and we might let you live, to tell your superiors of your failure. Refuse, and you will die. Your precious Chancellor will not be able to save you, no matter how hard you pray." Her mocking voice took on a hard edge. "What's it going to be? Surrender, or die?"
The guard hurried quickly through the transport as troopers rushed to repel boarders. He was wearing the long green/grey coat buttoned up around his face, and the low pulled feld cap shielding his eyes.
His Mauser-repeating blaster clutched in his hands as he steeled himself for what was to come. If he had any hope of pulling it off, he had to be quick. The RHA had taken great pains to place him aboard that transport, and he wasnt about to make a mistake.
The guards in the secure area saluted as he approached, unlatching the door. He was a part of their detail, a senior officer. They had no reason to doubt him, ten years of loyal service, without blemish saw to that.
He stepped through the doors, looking towards the cell, where the Commissar-Captain was being held, chained and restrained.
Typically draconian, over done for effect.
He shot the first guard as he sat at the table. The second, still trying to close the door, looked up in shock at the sound of the shot. Reaching for his gun as the officer shot him, simply between the eyes.
The third shot was directed at the security camera.
Alert sirens were already blaring.
Well met Comrade, the officer greeted as he released the cell door, pausing to scoop up an assault rifle and spraying it down the short hall into the pair of relief guards who were blindly charging in. It would be another minute before more arrived.
He unlocked the cuffs, shrugging out of his jacket and handing them over to the Commissar-Captain.
You should know that I am breaking years of deep cover over this The officer informed.
Katz nodded as he pulled on the coat, and tucked the feld cap low.
I secured the data we needed, he informed. I assure you, once I am out of here it will be shared with your commanders and it is worth the risk.
Katz recovered the second assault rifle, ducking to the far side of the holding area, sighting the rifle up and using it to cover his comrade.
The escape pods are closer to the hull, the officer indicated, looking at his watch.
What? Katz asked.
The explosion of the sabotage charges ripped through the reactor, plunging the transport into darkness, as emergency alert sirens began to wail. The Transport beginning to list as it fell towards the planet, engines flickering as the gravity drew the ship down.
Oh crap Katz murmured as the ship began to plummet.
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