This is a short sci-fi story I made about a NGT unit sent in to assassinate an alien commander.
Assassination: A Seaportian Chronicle
It was a dark and stormy night. Of course it was, why would it be anything different? This thought was only one among the many which swirled through the head of the armour clad figure known only as NGT Pyro-059 or CHAOS 3, as he descended through the atmosphere of the planet Chet. Cramped in the redesigned Human Entry Vehicle or HEV, the air screamed in defiance as the metal clad pod burned a fiery streak through the layer of protective gases surrounding the delicate biological life below. It was a dark and stormy night of course. Whenever you had to do an orbital drop at night it was dark and stormy. The wind howled in what seemed to be anger as it struggled and bellowed in vain to budge the HEV pod from its designated course. What was he doing here? Pyro asked himself this. This wasn’t what people should have to do. What was he doing this for? Oh yeah, that’s why; to kill. He was going through this hellish trip to an alien world to kill. Why was he killing? Oh, of course…
In the midst of the fierce League wars, the Confederation was losing and losing badly. Multiple worlds had been destroyed by the relentless League Thrals as their evil black ships burned away the atmospheres and reduced the surface of once green, lush worlds to barren and scorched balls of blackened dirt and rock. On all fronts they were losing. Entire battle groups were being blown to debris by the advanced Fenton cannons of the League. Whole armies were being wiped into oblivion by the relentless Thral warriors. The Earth Space Control was losing the war and no amount of CNI propaganda could dispute it. The military, the navy especially, needed a morale booster. Something to prove that the seemingly invincible alien monsters could and would be destroyed, that for once it would be the filthy invaders who’s head would be ground into the dirt by the metal combat boots of humanity. Then it would be the Thrals who would know fear of the silent killers. It would be the murderous disgusting aliens who would quake in fear as the vengeful humans wreaked havoc among their ranks! And so it came to be that the top brass at Central Naval Intelligence decided that a Thral figurehead or leader had to be taken out in order to disorganize and disorientate the League and maybe stall their advance and, most importantly, boost the broken, dying Seaportian morale. Field Master Shvall was chosen to be assassinated to prove that the enemy was still flesh and blood, flesh and blood which could be torn and spilled. Flesh and blood that could be burnt by plasma, cut by metal, torn apart with explosives and ripped open with bare hands. And so it came to be that they sent Team CHAOS.
Team CHAOS was the best of the best. Chosen from the elite of the Confederations feared Next Generation Trooper super soldiers, they had no fear. There was no challenge too daunting and no enemy too dangerous. Trained from the earliest of ages in the art of war and killing, and biologically augmented to make them stronger, faster, smarter and tougher than any other human alive and encased in the most advanced TROY assault armour, they were unstoppable. They should be legends, but alas they could not be. For security reasons and other factors only known to the top heads of CNI, Team CHAOS and all other Tier 0 units had been deemed top secret beyond classified. Anyone who learned of who they were would be shot without trial in order to maintain the secrecy. It was most fortunate that most people could not tell one of the armour clad giants from another, they could not tell normal NGTs from Tier 0. So it was that they were sent to assassinate, to kill the legendary League Field Master Shvall.
Surface of planet Chet, one hour after drop.
Johnson-309 or CHAOS 1 moved stealthily through the towering tree tops of Chet’s expansive forests. Leaping, running and crawling with a liquid grace through the canopy, he was completely undetectable by the League Thral guards stationed throughout the forest. He moved with scarcely more sound than a whisper, one ton of augmented flesh and TROY armour snaked through the trees in near complete silence. None of the split-jawed aliens below would ever hear him. And with his light-bending combat camouflage activated, he was virtually invisible also. The only living souls alive which could see him at all, much less follow him were his two squad mates and best friends, Pyro-059 or CHAOS 3, and Joseph 217 or CHAOS 2. They also had their active camouflage activated bending the dappled rays of light around their armored forms to assist in averting detection. Joseph had a little more trouble with his larger and more bulky frame than the more lithe and nimble-bodied Johnson and Pyro.
As the trio crept through the canopy with surprising speed, the alien guards totally oblivious to their presence, Joseph felt exposed. Not visibly of course, his armour assured his absence from anyone’s view, but his armored body lacked the large grenade launcher which usually accompanied him on assignments. As the unit’s expert on things such as heavy weapons, explosives, demolitions and such it was usually his duty to pack the heavy firepower. Not on this one though, no way. They weren’t here for the usual charade of destroying a League task force or such; they were here for a single target, a League Field Master. An assassination, get in get out and no questions asked. Johnson their team leader would take the shot with some sort of new sniper rifle CNI had whipped up for them and they would provide guard and cover fire as needed. Once the target was dead as a rock, they would take off and get to an exfiltration stealth ship and pray it worked.
Pyro was having a rather easy time keeping up with Johnson. He was the fastest of the three, and could sometimes be the stealthiest, strange as Johnson was the sniper and stealth was his job, but Pyro didn’t really care though, Johnson was still harder to detect than a minnow in a waterfall. Their mission was straight cut for once though. Get in, kill the field Master, and get out. Simple on paper; not so simple in the field. He followed his Lieutenant, jumped over a twenty foot gap between branches, and landed with the sound of a fly landing on a hair. Joseph landed a split second behind him with a faint grunt. The deadly trio continued through the canopy, heads rotating on alert.
They were lightly armed for this mission, no heavy weapons or anything except for grenades. Each had an X2 Fenton rifle magnetically strapped to his armored back, a neutron sidearm, and an energy shiv. Johnson carried the sniper rifle strapped diagonally across his back and leaving no room for anything else. A monster of a gun, it fired a new experimental round which the CNI brass wanted them to field-test. Namely it fired light, compressed light. Essentially it fired cartridges of super compressed light, forced in upon itself until it solidified. Once a gravity beam was projected at the target, a bolt of this super compressed light would fire at the speed of light. The sheer kinetic energy was capable of shooting clean through several feet of solid Titanium A alloy, so it would be sufficient for the job ahead.
They were getting close to the point where they would wait for their target and then take the shot; a small ledge overlooking a two hundred and sixty three meter vertical drop to a large, expansive clearing below. In the center of this clearing was a small landing site were the spherical League drop ship would land and disgorge the Thral Field Master. There, Johnson could see the point, ahead one hundred meters. He stopped and he flashed his amber light once. The other two NGTs immediately stopped and landed right next to him. They quickly scanned the area around them for Thrals. Good, they were secure for now. Johnson opened up a COM link to Pyro and spoke quickly.
“Pyro, grab me the bio-scanner and check the position up ahead for tangos.”
“No problem boss, one second.” He pulled out a tiny little machine the size of a golf ball and connected it to his helmet’s Tactical View Display. It flickered for a moment, and then came to life with a faint beeping sound. A holographic keypad appeared in front of him, asking the species name he wanted to check for. He typed in the word ‘Thral’ and entered it. He pointed the device at the shooting position and waited for a few seconds while the device hummed slightly, then came to a conclusion. He checked the results, then turned it off and unplugged it. Its visual presence faded from his TVD and he put it away. Yep, there was one Thral there, probably an Elite as there was only one.
“Johnson, I think we have an Elite up ahead. Want me to take care of him?”
“Sure, go ahead. Quietly though, no noise.”
“Sure thing, I’ll be right back.” He activated his camouflage once again and faded into the foliage.
Pyro had locked the Thrals position into his helmet and quickly dashed forward to the marker in front of his enhanced eyes. Twenty feet and closing, he made a final jump to another alien tree limb and halted. The marker on his TVD had moved around as he had traveled to it, and was now five feet to his left and fifteen feet down. Looking below him, he saw it: In the glossy black armour worn by Thrals, stood the Elite. As Pyro had guessed, he could see that by the flare of spiking of the armour that the alien belonged to the Order of the Elite, the Thrals special operations unit. It had a luent pistol on its waist, and its claws held an energy sword which glowed and thrummed as the blade of solidified fenton energy made the air sizzle and waver in heat. The creatures’ back was facing him, providing an easy target. Johnson had ordered no loud weapons, so Pyro would go silent. He pulled out the energy shiv and activated. There was a brief flash, and then a ten inch blade of solid plasma flared to life, encapsulated in its magnetic field. There was a slight humming as it flared to life, a humming which the elite noticed, for it looked up at his hiding position. Though it could not see Pyro, it could surely see the burning white blade of fire which glowed brilliantly. As its tri-split jaws began to open in surprise, Pyro attacked. Jumping from his tree limb, he landed on top of the stunned Thral, shiv ready.
He anticipated the landing angle and adjusted in mid-fall. As a result, he landed squarely on the Thrals back piggy back style. As the shocked alien tried to dislodge him, Pyro stabbed. The brilliant white blade flashed as it burnt clean through the Elites personal body shield and hit the alien’s neck point first, driven by several hundred kilograms of force. The personal energy shield flashed momentarily in protest to the attack, then collapsed with slight popping sound. The blade continued its invasion of the body and went up to the hilt in the Thrals neck. The alien gave a brief gargle as its windpipe, throat and major arteries were burnt through, then collapsed as if it were naught but a puppet with its strings cut. Pyro pulled back out the blade, deactivated it and returned it to it’ position on his waist. He quickly called Johnson.
“Position secured sir, feel free to drop by anytime.”
“We’re there.” The voice came from behind him. He whipped around, and there was Joseph and Johnson, clapping silently. Joseph gave him thumbs up.
“Bravo my friend, very well done, very nice.” Pyro gave a mock bow to his audience.
“You’re welcome my sirs, shall I perform an encore?” The voices turned flat all of a sudden as they transitioned into an even further advanced mental mode of combat readiness and awareness. Not that they hadn’t already, but now the mental pressure was beginning to grow upon them as the full reality sunk in. they were on an alien planet, the only ones of their kind surrounded by intelligent, armed, hostile beings. They were also now about to prepare to kill one of those beings leaders. The mode in the air was akin to that of a group of fraternity teenagers whom had planned an act of vandalism, but now were only fully realizing what they were going to do. Only this feeling however, was so much worse.
No man was invincible, and as much as CNI bragged about the NGTs near-mythical status, the reality was grim. Though they easily had the highest success rates, the NGTs also had one of the highest casualty rates, some missions ending with over eighty percent losses. And even then, those units usually had the support of multiple other units, while due to their high level of secrecy; Tier 0 operatives had literally themselves. In fact they were lucky just to secure and exfiltration craft for this mission.
“No.” He shrugged.
“Ok then, shall we set up shop?” There were no vocal replies, but the reaction was immediate. Joseph immediately dashed off into the tree tops to stand guard and Johnson took down the sniper rifle system and started to set it up overlooking the clearing far below. Pyro grabbed his rifle and took off after Joseph into the tree’s to assist him on watch duty.
Johnson handled the sniper rifle as a loving mother would handle a baby. First he took it off his back and set it down carefully. Next he retrieved a camouflage dust matt and placed it over a section of patted down vegetation. Once it was in place, he retrieved his bipod and set it up over the dust matt. The legs immediately dug into the hard earth and gripped it to steady the stand. Next he took the rifle and checked the ammunition. He took his battery and checked to make sure it was fully charged. Satisfied that it was, he slid it into the rifles receiving chamber where it locked it with a satisfying click. He then clipped the weapon onto the bipod and steadied it. He took an interface cord and clipped it from the sniper rifles smart scope to a slot in his helmet. The view in his visor went from what he saw to what was seen through the scope, his entire field of vision enveloped by the view of the clearing magnified times ten. He swept the weapon back and forth in great arcs across the field in great arcs, checking out the Thral forces.
The security was tight to be sure. Approximately twenty of the League Reaper tanks floated delicately above the ground on their anti-grav units while a good fifty Banshee fliers buzzed the air above them. To top it all off were dozens of stationary gun turrets, defense systems and of course several hundred Elite guards. Normally CHAOS team would take out the entire force, but they were here for the leader only. So the leader would be taken out, and if CNI was right, he should be arriving any moment.
Ah, there it was. The Thral drop ship, a glossy black sphere twenty meters around, was descending through the grey overcast cloud cover with remarkable speed. This speed withered and died away as it got closer to the ground, until it was ten feet above the landing platform. In the side, a hole appeared from seemingly nowhere, and out of this hole stepped six Order of the Elite guards, followed by the target himself, Field Master Shvall. Johnson increased the scopes zoomed in view to magnified by a factor of one hundred and laid the targeting reticule dead center on the alien elongated, helmeted head. He started taking deep, slow breathes to steady his aim. He reached the slow end of a long exhalation and waited for the brief pause between his heart beats. He fired.
The sniper rifle bucked slightly as the compressed light bolt fired from the muzzle, entrapped in the magnetic field. There was a brilliant white flash which his visor automatically polarized for, and then the targets’ head exploded. Good.
Johnson stooped up and dropped the gun. Drawing a fentonic SMG, he armed it and started to run. He keyed his friends COM and spoke quickly.
“Split-jaws dead, come on boys let’s high-tail it outta here.”
“Yes sir.” Johnsons was already fading from view as his camouflage engaged, and Pyro and Joseph were right behind, rifles at the ready. On each of their TVDs, a nav marker appeared locating the position and distance to the escape craft. Stealth was not so much of an issue now as they ran flat out at a good forty kilometers per hour. A few Thrals appeared in front of them, and immediately dissolved in a hail of searing energy blasts. CHAOS kept running through the trees at full speed, firing at Thrals in their way.
Pyro was in the lead of the three. Being the fastest he was on point, making sure to blow away and of the split-jawed aliens that tried to stop them and many did. There, a Thral was pointing a luent rifle at him. Pyro brought his gun to bear and fired. Five burning blue flares of energy discharges fired and hit the Thral with deadly accuracy. The creatures shields flared, popped, and the armour and body was destroyed by the heat and energy. But it still fired as it died, and a few of the brilliant red rounds slammed into him. His shields flashed and flared as he ran, and his shield energy level drained slightly. He kept running though, the transport was only five hundred meters away, and his energy bar went up. Behind him Joseph lobbed a plasma grenade at an alien fire team which adhered to one of their arms and exploded a split second later.
The Thral forces were on full alert now; he could hear the whining drone of Demon fliers getting closer and closer, but the ship as only one hundred meters away. They kept running, and there! The silver hull was visible ahead. They ran up to it and Johnson immediately began to type in access codes to open the outer hatch. Pyro and Joseph set up brief cover positions and gave quick cover fire. Streaks of red fire splashed against themselves which caused their shields to ripple in a form akin to water rippling after a stone hits, and other bolts of luent energy slammed into the local fauna, causing it to burst into flames immediately. The outer hatch hissed as it popped open, the onboard computer yielding to Johnsons’ CNI- provided codes. Pyro and Joseph broke position and ran aboard and slammed the hatch shut.
Joseph was immediately all over the control consoles and powered up the ships systems with a hum. As he lifted off, he activated the ships own texture buffer, and the transport faded away, blending in with their surrounding like the ultimate chameleon. The engines were silent as they lifted off the alien jungle and accelerated past the Demons, and into the vast blackness of space.
As they left the atmosphere of Chet, Joseph could see the League destroyers close in on them, their sensors not fooled by the camouflage. Their angular firing tips brightened blue as fenton rounds readied to fire, but by then it was too late. Joseph spun up the JumpSpace matrix, onlined the engine, entered the appropriate entry and exit vectors, and engaged the FTL drive.. The ships innards hummed as the vessel sped up and suddenly accelerated, transitioning from the 3 dimensions of real space to the multiple non-dimensions of JumpSpace, leaving naught behind but a billowing wake of radiations which blossomed into a multitude of colors which swirled and blazed as the fenton bolts burned through them.