55: The Third Elthrice Campaign Pt. 2
Spiro followed the Faceless Man as they were wordlessly ushered into a tent by those standing outside. Their prisoner, an oddly thin Orbital, looked bruised and bloody; pigments meant to hide his skin seemingly washed off his face and upper body - despite the rest of him seemingly still in disguise. Wet rags and bloody rags covered one table, although the room seemed cluttered with gadgets. They were undoubtedly Earth technology, though, many alien devices dedicated to specific purposes as opposed to the Elthrice technology that seemed to do everything at once while being integrated into a larger device or person.
The Orbital’s face contorted to an expression Spiro couldn’t recognize as it shouted something in Elthrice that Spiro didn’t understand.
The Faceless Man’s voice boomed with anger.
The Orbital flew into a panic, trying and failing to break its restraints. “What did you say?” demanded the Calm Man. “He believed I would be on his side, but was sorely mistaken” the Faceless Man replied in a somewhat mocking tone, before contemplating aloud. “Interesting that an Orbital be sent without an Orbital’s (object)…” the Faceless Man said, taking several steps towards the prisoner, who returned to resisting his restraints again and called out to his captors in English. “Please don’t let him…,” but the prisoner’s voice trailed off as the Faceless Man gently put his hand on the prisoner’s left arm.
Spiro looked on, feeling a little confused. It looked like the Faceless Man was about to try to activate the Orbital’s implant, but that wouldn’t work, would it? Could anybody just activate an Orbital’s implant? The Faceless Man moved his arm in an almost otherworldly fluid swipe, but everything suddenly felt wrong. Something hit him in the chest, and those around him aimed weapons and started shouting. Instead of seeing a PDA he heard a bone chilling crack, the Orbital now screaming. A disembodied arm was held in the air like a trophy.
Spiro suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Not at the violence; he’d seen far worse, but this was not something that would have been done by Basil, who had barely been able to stomach killing somebody who stabbed him. While he hadn’t known anybody who’d have the strength to do something like this, he’d known people who’d had this sort of brutality in interrogations before; he despised those people. He could hardly believe what had happened, but only two possibilities existed. Either the violence had broken Basil, or this wasn’t Basil making these decisions. He wasn’t sure which was worse.
Ignoring the screams, the Faceless Man opened the limb, pulling out a bloody black dot the size of a grain kernel. An interface opened, all in unreadable Elthrice, and a few swipes and taps later the Faceless Man crushed the device between his fingers. The Calm Man, seeming to process the situation that passed by near instantly, ran over to grab the Faceless Man’s arm - seemingly in anger. His sudden anger seemed to be replaced by an unexpected expression of fear as he pulled his hand away the second it made contact, though moments later his expression had returned to the blank expression he had otherwise been wearing. “What did you do?” he demanded, voice still carrying some anger, and the Faceless Man turned towards him as if he had forgotten about the Calm Man’s existence.
“I told them to come. Get the van you seized into position, this is either a very desperate infiltration or a trap, but they do not know I am here so we will have the advantage either way.” The Calm Man stood silently for some time, but eventually ordered his men to get the van located near an outcropping of rocks in the valley that they were encamped around. “You will wait here” the Calm Man began, but the Faceless Man spoke firmly in disagreement. “No, I will wait by the van, that is not in question. You and or your subordinates may present if you wish, but I will be present when we confront the beings. Unlike this scout, you will likely be incapable of harming them and will be entirely unmatched.”
The Calm Man began to order his soldiers into defensive positions on the edges of the surrounding valley, seemingly not debating the Faceless Man’s presence further. Several, however, would accompany him while they joined the Faceless Man and Spiro by the van where the Elthrice would emerge at if it were not a trap. As they made their way there, and out of earshot of the others, Spiro whispered a question. “Do you really think it’s a trap?” The Faceless Man’s response was whispered back, the other whispers seemingly nonexistent or too quiet to be heard. “This is a trap, or the Elthrice are exceedingly desperate. Regardless, exercise caution.” Spiro replied with a cautious glance, before turning his head to look at the gunship silently moving behind the ridge.
Spiro stood waiting and looking around. The snipers were impressively hidden, their full-body suits matching the surroundings, making a deadly trap for anyone wandering in. At least, of course, anybody without an Orbital’s (object). He’d have to relay their designs to somebody at the ministry, they’d be a marginal improvement to their standard gear. They certainly weren’t a fan of him helping the outsider and his Earth buddies, but some good gear to bring back would hopefully plaster over the annoyance they seemed to have towards him. Maybe they’d even let Basil enter the island, and he wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen if they found out he had already done so using a wormhole device.
He forced his mind to stop wandering, even if it was the only thing keeping him from focusing on the dread he felt. Sure, he could hold a confident expression - he was a master of controlling appearances, but being on an alien planet to confront other aliens sure didn’t inspire confidence. The others could be faking their confidence too, but something told him that, at the very least, the Faceless Man and the Calm Man were as confident as they seemed. That sort of confidence was always dangerous.
There was a gust of wind and a flash of a wormhole as several Elthrice stepped through. They seemed to go so quickly that they didn’t even know others were around until it closed, suddenly stiffening and stepping back as they realized their predicament.
“You! How did you?” asked a seemingly flabbergasted one in the center of the group, wearing a hood that concealed its face in a similar manner to their presumably former leader. Its voice did not carry whispers, but its voice sounded closer to the others on Earth; unlike the prior Elthrice that understood the language and sounded more like those from Domum. The hooded one was shorter than the rest, though still tall, and surrounded by Orbitals on both sides. The Faceless Man bellowed out something that sounded chastising.
The Orbitals surrounding the hooded Elthrice took on a sudden look of fear, and the one with the hood took on a posture that looked like fake bravado. It spoke, however, with what sounded like real confidence. “Perhaps I do not wish to conceal my speech from those present.” The group fell silent briefly, but the hooded figure continued. “You chose a fitting appearance, given my predecessor took your face last time we met.” The Faceless Man responded with a tone that seemed to contain rage. “And his remains remain scattered on the desolate ruins you once called home.” Suddenly, he switched to an eerily calm tone as he continued. “And so will be your fate if you do not leave now. This civilization is under my protection; return to yours or perish as your predecessor.”
The group fell silent again and Spiro suddenly felt calm; from the looks of things, this would end with the Elthrice leaving peacefully. An entire army ran from them once, and here stood less than a dozen. The hooded one, however, turned to the Calm Man and spoke. “Do not pay attention to that one; it is a ghost of a lost age, weaker than he once was, bearing no army or weapons. I bear you no ill will and can provide you with items beyond your comprehension in exchange for our friendship.” Spiro began to feel nervous again. This was a problem; Basil’s diplomatic skills, or lack thereof, had turned every major power against him at one point. However, when he looked back, The Faceless Man remained quiet and instead turned to the Calm Man, who had an unexpected grin.
“Of course. As a show of good faith, please surrender your weapons and allow my people through to your home to verify your intentions.” The Orbitals gripped their weapons harder and shifted in place, Spiro feeling more relieved again. If nothing else, at least those here were smart enough not to be blinded by such an offer, the request sounding more mocking than genuine. The moment the group fell quiet the Faceless Man turned away from the Calm One and raised his hands, gunship silently rising over the horizon to become visible from within the valley.
” the hooded one shouted to seemingly rally his faltering allies. The Faceless Man took several steps closer. "Return to your dust and ashes, scavenger, before I turn you to dust on these lands." After speaking, however, he turned his back to the hooded one and faced the gunship hovering in the distance. Spiro couldn't believe it, but it almost looked like he was trying to goad a fight.
Spiro watched as a blur of motion erupted from the hooded one. The hooded one slashed a knife at the Faceless Man’s back, but the Faceless Man turned and extended his arm towards the knife. In one quick motion he wrenched the knife out of the attacker’s hand and plunged it into his chest. The Orbitals around him began to raise their weapons, but the Calm Man gave a discrete hand signal only visible to somebody trained to notice such things. The Orbitals fell to the ground, riddled with wounds, and bullets spalled off the hooded one who seemed unharmed except for the knife in his chest. The Faceless Man took the knife out of the hooded one’s chest and struck him twice more with it, hard enough to knock him back and onto the ground.
Unlike the first moments, which almost looked like a dance, these strikes looked more brutal and rageful; as if he was beating him with his fists, which only held a knife by happenstance. Spiro suddenly noticed a slash across the Faceless Man’s right hand and back, which seemed to be bleeding. Though not enough to be a life-threatening injury, a knot grew in Spiro’s stomach. Could the hooded one be right in that he was getting weaker? Regardless, however, the fight was over; that was all that mattered for now.
The Calm Man gave another discrete hand signal.
As unexpected as it was, Spiro knew what it would mean as soon as the Calm Man’s fingers began to move. He dove for cover behind a large rock; even if there were gunmen posted from every angle pointing into the valley, he had to minimize how many had a line of sight on him. Several struck him in the chest as a hail of gunfire kicked up dust, Basil falling to the ground beside him. He opened fire onto the hillside.
Time nearly froze for Basil. Moments before, the strange surge of energy from the (object) was fading, fight that he expected since the moment he stepped off the gunship now over. Then, out of nowhere, he was on the ground. He had trouble focusing, his head and chest hurt, but he knew he was in trouble. He quickly scrambled behind the rock that Spiro had ran behind, enabled magnification on his rifle’s optics, and watched through them as the gunship landed in the area the snipers were; crushing rocks, trees, and people alike.
“The valley is too deep, you need to get out of there to get into the gunship” ACE bellowed through the radio, semi-monotone in nature, but volume unbearably loud to be audible in the chaos. The gunship flew in on its side, pressed to the ground, and began rolling as if it were a large shield as Basil and Spiro began to run out of the valley. Basil felt a chill run down his spine as he saw where he confronted the hooded one. The bodies of the Orbitals lay there dead; the Calm Man and his men had left, but the body of the hooded one was gone. There was no time to carry a body away in this short window, and Basil was sure that he had gone through a wormhole - either alive or dead.
“You idiot!” Basil yelled over the radio as they ran, firing blindly at the hilltops. “I was about to land the killing blow, but he has escaped and will certainly return. You have doomed yourselves!” The Calm Man replied over the radio; though he sounded as if he was out of breath from running, his voice’s tone sounded like a calm gloat. “One thing about humanity you must learn is, for better or for worse, we take no shit and accept no masters. You bled and took cover; that means you’re not as durable as you’ve portrayed yourself to be.”
The two jets with their missiles roared, the gunship suddenly flying up and using its bottom as a shield. An explosion rang out, but the gunship remained in the air and seemed unharmed as it turned over and opened the door on its back. Soldiers began to swarm them from all locations and Basil and Spiro raised their hands before jumping; the gunship’s artificial gravity pulling them into the craft through the now closing door. Basil spoke over the radio. “You and I are not so different, and I fear that is to your people’s detriment.” Taking fire from those on the ground and in the air, it tore through the atmosphere with an eardrum rupturing roar.