The Blackout (The Operative/Wrath of an Empire)
Benjamin Hewitt used to love the snow. Loved the sound it made as the leather boots his mother had gifted moved through it. He loved that bite that nipped at his nose. He loved snowball fights with his two sisters as they yelled at him for stealing one of their toys. The winter wonderland that always greeted their home was his to explore.
He thought it would last forever.
He wished that wonder had stayed, hoped that it wasn't tainted. But now, when he thought of the white reaper that danced around him, he only could see the frozen faces of friends, innocents, and animals. Waking up each morning and shaking the body of a fellow only to realize the reaper lay with him that night and took his breath.
That reaper had taken his mother when the war came to their home. He found them all there. Why did it spare him each time when it took so many he cared for? Now it mocked him with memories and gifts it once bestowed.
Hewitt watched the snow flutter in his hands before turning it over and letting it blow away from him.
In front of him, the four bodies lay motionless under the snow. They were in a partially dug ditch, the ground frozen solid by the long winter storms that raged across Parem. One of those storms was still swirling above them like an ancient predator seeking to sweep them away.
But here, the snow buried its own. Why not him?
Major Hewitt sighed, brushing a layer of snow that had settled on his hat. He turned, a frown creasing his forehead as the platoon leader of the 2nd platoon walked over, saluting him.
"Building secured Sir, but we found something in the shelter underneath," Lieutenant Grace Mallory said, her dull blue eyes coldly watching him.
"Thank you, Lieutenant dismissed," Hewitt said, waving his hand as he stared over at the building.
Observation post Echo was a large, partially above-ground bunker with multiple lines of sight for the automatic turrets sticking out on its side. It also had an attached tower that could see for miles in clear weather.
His men had secured the facility, several outposts had lost communications in the previous hours. They had to wait for the storm to clear before it was safe for shuttle flights to check on them.
Hewitt stepped through the metal doorway, the door swinging shut with a loud bang before locking. The gunmetal gray hallways led to the various bunker defensive systems. Operating gun controls, camera systems and other control consoles took up the first rooms.
The heating was off, water frozen in cups, and food was frostbitten as they passed by the small kitchen. Hewitt stopped, counting the plates and cups that littered the several tables. Obviously, whatever happened made the men leave their meals uneaten.
Nearly fifty men manned this post. And now not a single soul apart from the four outside being buried by the snow.
Commonwealth soldiers saluted him as he passed, their bright armor giving them an almost heavenly appearance, seeming to glow in the lights. Their large needle rifles were at the ready, and even they seemed put off.
He walked back into the hallway before stopping, his eyes tracing the long marks along the wall. They looked like claw marks, the metal was torn open like paper.
"What could do something like that?" Lieutenant Mallory wondered aloud, running her own fingers along it.
"How did it even get in? The facility seemed sealed when we arrived," Hewitt said, gesturing for one of the soldiers, "find Lieutenant Gormly, tell him to have his platoon sweep the perimeter and the outer building again."
The soldier saluted before rushing outside.
"This is what we wanted you to see," Lieutenant Mallory said as they descended downstairs to the underground sections, "we found one body, it was in an interesting shape."
They led him to the bottom of the stairs, quickly turning and heading to one of the officer's quarters.
Hewitt stared at the body pinned to the wall by a large pipe, a pool of blood below it. The concrete where the pipe had struck had cracked. What in the name of mother Earth could do that?
"It looks like something fired out of a cannon," Malloy wondered, her fingers exploring the cracks running up the wall, "maybe a combat bot?"
"Imperials don't use those," Hewitt reminded her, shaking his head. Only their own forces used ai intensive ground combat systems, after the Imperial Forge incident, their adversaries have been extremely cautious in their implementation of ai military assets.
"Maybe they gave it a try," Malloy said, shrugging, "either way my guess is something got in here and the boys chased it out into the forest. We should try and catch up to them."
"That doesn't make any sense," Hewitt said, crossing his arms. Whatever got in here made it through the bunker, why wasn't there more of a fight? The number of men between it and this room alone should of been a nightmare of bullets and armored troops—instead, only a few bodies.
"Patterson was the commander," Hewitt stated rather then asked. Patterson was a competent enough XO. His aggression would explain why he set out after the intruder, "do we have an idea of where they were heading?"
Malloy nodded, pulling out a data pad and handing it to Hewitt, who scrutinized it. It was a personal log, damaged but unlocked and functioning. He pressed play.
He listened to the first sentence, garbled audio making him grimace. He skipped to the last entry. Not even four hours ago.
"Captain Patterson reporting. We were attacked by some creature and took only one casualty. but the damn thing hacked our systems and downloaded all known information on our defenses. We've been unable to contact any other posts, we are setting out towards the airfield twenty miles south of here in the morning, I will leave four of my men to seal the compound and guard it. Hopefully, we can warn-" The message abruptly ended.
Twelve hours. They had time to catch up then.
"Malloy! Tell our shuttle to head to the airfield and sound the alarm, then have reinforcements get to us. We will trek south to catch up to Patterson and his troops."
Malloy hesitated for the barest moment before saluting, rushing off to inform the shuttle pilots.
Fifteen minutes later all soldiers were assembled outside the bunker. Hewitt ordered them to proceed south at double pace to catch up to Patterson and his men. He arranged for Gormly's platoon to stay ahead of the man group, with orders to suppress and withdraw to the main force if engaged.
As the shuttle took off and faded into the distance, Hewitt wondered if he was making the right decision, but he knew time was of the essence. He made a call, and he would live with it for the rest of his life. However long that is. He thought with a grimace.
For the first twenty minutes, all was silent. Until Gormly requested his presence.
He found the lieutenant standing in front of a large pine tree, the man's round face visible now that his helmet was off as he inspected something on the tree.
It was only when Hewitt got close that he realized what he thought was another soldier leaning against the tree, was a corpse. A headless corpse.
"Ours?" Hewitt asked uneasily, looking at the soldiers in defensive positions around them, "or-"
"One of Patterson's men," Gormly responded in his usual gruff manner, "his armor is untouched, notice the cut to his neck, something sharp went clean through it. I guess he was at the back of the group, poor bastard never even got noticed. Tracks all lead south."
"Keep your squads close to each other, we don't know what we are dealing with."
Gormly's platoon continued ahead, reporting more and more tracks of Patterson's men. It was clear the longer the trek went, Patterson clumped his men closer and closer until they were all within a few feet of each other, moving enmass south.
"First platoon reporting contact!" the short-range radio burst to life suddenly, sporadic gunfire echoing close ahead of them before Gormly's gruff voice cut in, "cease fire! Friendlies!"
Hewitt moved towards First platoon, several soldiers accompanying him.
Soldiers were tending to a soldier on the ground, a bullet wound in his shoulder. Another soldier was standing a ways away, eyes wide, seeming in a daze, his armor wasn't like the others, his was cracked and barely functioning.
"He's one of Patterson, he was running when he stumbled on squad three," he said matter of factly, turning to the wounded trooper, "you gonna live Harris?"
"Yes Sir," the soldier gave him a thumbs up before pointing at the new soldier, "come here."
The soldier took a hesitant step forward, almost stumbling, "I'm so sorry I thought-"
"Whats your name trooper?" Hewitt asked, arms crossed, he didn't care, no one was killed, he just need information fast.
He didn't respond, swaying on his feet. It almost looked like he was drunk.
"Where is Patterson?" Hewitt demanded, looking behind him he noticed a small bloom of smoke in the distance, followed by an explosion rumbling through the air.
"Camp," the man croaked, pointing behind him.
The walk was short, Hewitt followed Gormly's platoon as Vincent led them to a small clearing. Hewitt's heart sank as a lump formed in his throat.
"Mother of," Gormly trailed off before spinning around, "sweep the area now!"
Soldiers quicking split into search teams, cautiously moving ahead.
In front of them in the clearing sat a large camp. It was destroyed. Tents lay scattered, fires still smoldering. Bodies littered the area. Hewitt slowly moved forward, soldiers ahead of him checking the collapsed tents and the more intact bodies.
He passed two bodies still kneeling, their hands palm up and their heads removed.
Feet stuck out of the snow by one tent with a hand sticking out of another.
"What the fuck does this?" Gormly muttered, crouching down next to one of the arms, "what exploded?"
"It wasn't from the camp," Hewitt said, his heart pounding in his ears as he reached a realization, pointing towards the smoke still a short distance off, "Gormly you don't think?"
"The shuttle?" Gormly's eyes widened, "no, they wouldn't land without direct orders!"
Mallory's platoon was reaching the clearing when Hewitt gave her the order to investigate the smoke, "withdraw to our position here right away if engaged." He stressed those instructions, as their situation was getting worse by the second.
They found Patterson's body towards the middle of the camp, his head shoved deep into a camp fires coals, small pockets of fire creeping up his back. There were drag marks leading up to his body.
When they pulled him out his face was unrecognizable. His skull had been smashed badly, with cracks spreading down the forehead, eyes and mouth shattered. Hewitt hoped that he had been dead when whatever it was had dragged him to the fire.
"Mark the location for recovery teams, " Hewitt instructed, slowly looking around before stopping. High above in one of the trees a body was slung over the branches, body smoking as if it had been burnt. He withdrew his sidearm, aiming and firing a single shot just above the body.
The clearing went silent, soldiers on alert and looking towards him, confused.
Nothing happened. Hewitt frowned, he could of sworn he saw something.
"Major this is second platoon reporting," Mallory's voice came over the short-range communications, "its the shuttle, its in another clearing a quarter of a kilometer ahead, bodies here. Seems like they tried to perform a pickup when something or someone caught them."
Damn. This was bad, he had alerted the nearby outposts that they were out here. But without the shuttle warning the airfield, would they bother checking? Surely they would. He hoped.
"Sir we might have something here, there seems to-" Mallory's voice cut in as the wind began to pick up.
"Say again 2nd platoon we seem to be having issues with the storm," a communications operator said next to Hewitt, the young man straining to hear as the wind picked up even more, causing the both of them to brace themselves.
"Contact!" the words hung in the air, as Hewitt's eyes went wide, he knew it.
Whatever had taken out Patterson was still around. And they were the next target.
"First platoon and third platoon move up to support second, double time!" Hewitt ordered, "Operator see if you can get any information from second, and tell them we are coming from North of their position!"
The silence caused Hewitt to turn, the comms operator was dead, his head opened up like a red flower as crimson flowed over the snow.
"Contact rear!" A soldier shouted, firing up into the trees before a shot hit him, sending him flying.
Hewitt dove behind cover as he spotted a shimmer high in the trees, "suppressing fire on those trees! Aim high!"
Soldiers at the rear of the two platoons began firing into the treetops. Hewitt watched as sparks lit up on one branch. And for the briefest moment, he saw a soldier of some kind, a blue and white ghost.
"Contact fro-" The soldiers heading towards second's position went flying backwards, crimson spraying across snow like paint on a canvas.
Hewitt scrambled back, drawing his sidearm and firing as a formless shimmer dashed through his men. Heads and limbs falling motionless to the ground.
Gormly fired his shotgun at it as he emerged chasing after it, several soldiers following.
The thing briefly appeared, a humanoid form of metal seeming to weave between the bullets, a long blade lashing out, nearly cutting a man in two. When bullets did hit it they seemed to bounce harmlessly off, or just stagger it.
Gormly scrambled back, narrowly avoiding the blade.
Mallory soon emerged behind him, bleeding from a severe gash but still in the fight.
Hewitt tossed his pistol aside, grabbing up a rifle and prying the amputated hand from it.
Gormly fired a shot point blank, the things blade flying from its grasp.
In the blink of an eye it grabbed his leg, swinging him like a child swings a doll and slamming him against a tree. The sickly crack made Hewitt's blood run cold as Gormly's bent body hit the snow.
Hewitt fired all his rifles ammo, picking up another and another.
Mallory was next, and it grabbed her by the face, blue energy suddenly arcing from its wrist.
Even as Hewitt desperately fired, trying to distract it somehow, it still held her as her body smoked and twisted in its grip.
It let go of her, her face charred beyond recognition. A deathly silence fell across the massacre, it was only them now.
Hewitt crouched, his hand searching a fallen soldiers belt, his fingers grasping around his only chance.
It turned, the shimmering vanishing and finally letting him see his foe. It was human, or at least he thought, a metal suit with soulless eyes stared at him.
It took a step, its weight crunching down into a body. It paused, looking down in some sick fascination. This was his chance.
Hewitt pulled the pin, waiting a moment before throwing it. He dove to the side, covering his head.
There was an explosion, fragments flying up.
Hewitt's brief smile of victory vanished as the thing took another step, black scorch marks now painting its armor.
"No," Hewitt muttered as he slowly got up, "what the hell are you? Why?"
The thing tilted its head before raising its arm. The was a sound, followed by a pain in his chest. Hewitt looked down, staring at the small dart in his chest. His world began to spin, before darkness took him.
There were sounds. The wind weaving through trees. The crunching a something moving through snow. Was it his imagination? Was he dreaming? Was he dead?
Am I dead? He wondered. Trying to open his eyes or move had no results.
He had come so far. They all had. Now to die in the forest, with no one knowing what happened.
How can that be how this ends?
He didn't know how much time had passed. All Hewitt had was the cold, that cold feeling creeping more and more through him was the only thing he had. Until even that began to fade. Replaced by warmth. And a voice.
Hewitt, blinked, harsh light burning his eyes as he blinked again and again. And with each time the world began to reform.
"Sir, can you hear me?" He put a face to the voice, a tall woman of dark complexion smiled at him, her uniform was that of a nurse. Frankly, to Hewitt, it was like being woken by an angel.
Hewitt nodded a confirmation to her, his throat burning as he swallowed.
"Its been three days since you were brought in."
Three days. He had to warn the outposts, the airfield.
"I need to contact my superiors," Hewitt rasped, trying to sit up, the nurse gently tried to keep him lying down, "please, all my men."
"That wont be necessary Major," A new voice spoke up as a man walked into the room, Hewitt knew the uniform, "please give us a moment nurse."
The woman nodded, smiling at Hewitt before walking out of the room. The man watched her leave, his smile vanishing as he turned back to Hewitt.
"My name is Issac, I am with the Commonwealth's Intelligence Burea. I know you've had a rough few days so I will be straightforward. From this moment you are hereby discharged from the army. In fact we are already on a transport taking you home. Your pension will remain intact. But, if you ever mention something of what you think happened there. Well, lets just say I am a lot less friendly on repeat visits." The man said, smiling again.
"But, my soldiers, they deserve-" Hewitt started.
"They served the Commonwealth well. Accidents do happen though, he paused, stretching dramatically, "I think I am going to let you get some rest. Do keep what I said in mind. And I do mean this in the most caring way, I hope we don't have to meet again. Enjoy retirement."
He turned and walked away, leaving Hewitt alone.
Several days later Imperial forces would launch a full scale invasion of the planet. And no one would remember the blackout that proceeded it.
