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Vengeance of the State – Epilogue

Published on 17. Nov, 2009 ... written by Jaret Kosht.

Picture credit: Wotlankor

Jaret Kosh’t, now safely placed in the gunship, gazed onto at the organized chaos that surrounded him. Propping himself on his elbows as he lay on a makeshift cot, he watched as the gunship’s medical team tried to save what was left of his company. Medics huddled over the wounded and the dying, desperately trying to save whom they could. He watched, as one medic desperately tried to revive Prashesh, trying to prevent the Grim Reaper from claiming another soul. Medical drones impassively floated in the air scanning the patients and forwarding their medical data to the orbiting hospital cruisers.

All of sudden one Caldari marine, his armor unstained and unmarked, a clear indicator that he had yet to face death, nudged Jaret, and motioned to the transparent steel, that was the gunship’s windows. A tattoo on the nape of the man’s neck, identified him as a Provist, an admirer of Tibus Heth. He leaned forward and shouted above the noise that reigned in the passenger hold of the gunship.

“Behold! See the glory of the State!!” the man shouted into Jaret’s ear and pointed towards the sight. Jaret glanced towards the indicated direction and his lips curled into a grimace at the sight he beheld.

Through the transparent steel, Jaret watched as Tibus Heth, self-declared leader of the Caldari State, brandished the flag of the Caldari State and planted it on top of the Gallente Legislature building. The flag, unfurled by the heavy winds, proudly displayed the symbol of the Caldari State. As the Marine beside him cheered, Jaret slowly lowered his head and quietly relapsed into unconsciousness.

For this company of the Pathfinder legion, even as their brethren fought furiously to liberate their former home, the Battle of Caldari Prime was over.

Three Year Laters

Jaret Kosh’t, the former captain of the Pathfinder legion, introspectively inspected the spicy, golden amber liquid in his glass. He carefully swirled it around, each with each swirl chanting the names of those he had loved and cared for. Tears filled his eyes, as he imagined and remembered what their final moments must have been like. Men and women, whom he had been proud to call brothers, sisters and comrades, lay buried on planets faraway, their cold corpses slowly returning to the earth where they lay.

Jaret Kosh’t however did not join in their sentence of death. For his crime of failing his comrades, he was to live out his life among the cold emptiness of space. For his failure to adequately adjust to the situation, he was cursed with immortality. Forced to walk among the stars, Jaret chose to lived a lonely existence, his closest friend being his Hawk; The Justice. Apart from letters, Jaret had never seen his family after the Battle of Caldari Prime. Were it not for Mordu’s Legion pod training, Jaret would have ended his life a long time ago.

Pausing after reciting the names of the former comrades, Jaret took a deep, slow drink of the liquid. As the spicy, amber liquid slowly burned its way down his throat, Jaret slowly began to chant the Pathfinder’s Psalm. Soon a voice, in the bar, filled with pride and grief and in an old tongue filled the empty silence of the station’s bar. Jaret ignored the stares from the bar’s patrons as the former Pathfinder sang the battle hymn.

“…And together we charge over the hilltops,
bearing in our hearts,
the Caldari flame,
Brothers all,
and glory, eternal glory,
we shall bear its weight together,
drenched in blood we may be.
Together with my army of brothers,
we shall all fight,
through the Darkness of Death,
through Hell…”

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Vengeance of the State – Part 3

Published on 15. Nov, 2009 ... written by Jaret Kosht.

Picture credit: Wotlankor

In an innocuous forest on Caldari Prime, a strange sound can be heard. It first starts of with rumble that slowly grows to roar. Trees are knocked aside and vegetation is crushed as the roars rise to crescendo. An MTAC steps through the brush, swatting aside an ancient tree. It scans the area and then gives an all-clear signal. Squads of elite Gallente Security Force Kommandoes, push through the vegetation, their rifles sweeping the area around them. Behind them more MTACS and Kommandoes work their way through the forest, carefully making their way to reclaim the Orbital Cannon Control facility.

Admiral Jorus Fringer, watched the progress of his troops courtesy of the command implant that was buried somewhere in his temporal lobe. Safely cocooned in the command room of a gigantic armored command vehicle, he organized and controlled the squads as they made their way through the forest. Responding to an alarm raised at the facility, he had been distressed to find no response to his queries to their status.

However what troubled him even more, was the fact that no one at High Command seemed to respond to his alerts. He had contacted his fellow officers and they too confirmed what he was experiencing. It seemed that none of the command staff were available.

Tucked away in the hallways of High Command, a normally busy room was filled with dead silence. Instead of the hustle and bustle that normally filled this room, there hung the aura of death. At a table at the centre of the room, 10 bodies sat slumped in their seats. All the corpses on them had a variety of expression that ranged from shock, rage and fear. Some of their hands clutched at their necks, others gripped the handles of the seats, in a desperate bid to escape the room of death.

A young lady, dressed in revealing clothes that proclaimed her beauty, moved through the room. She was fitted with a re-breather mask, and hidden behind it her lips curved into a deadly smile. In her hands she gripped a handgun and with it she walked up to each body and put a round in its forehead. A small tattoo at her delicate nape of her neck identified her as being one of Heth’s provists.

She had been the ‘surprise’ for the generals. A large cake in the center of the room, gave a clue to her arrival. When she had burst through the cake, she watched as the surrounding generals expression of lust and desire soon gave way to shock and horror, as she triggered the release of the poison gas. Were it not for the boosters she had taken and the re-breather mask she wore, she would have joined the generals in their death.

In her former life she had been a stripper, desperate for cash and drugs that would ease the pain and trauma. That was before she met Heth. The man, through his words and actions had inspired her to join his Provists and since that day she had never looked back. With the Provist,s she now worked for something that was bigger than her, bigger than her life nay her very soul. True there had been times they committed acts that the State would have frowned upon. True there were times when they worked with pirates, thieves and murderers. But it had all been for the moment when they could guide the State towards greatness and power. Caldari Prime was only the first step and soon the entire world of New Eden would soon rue the day that they ignored the State.

Captian Prashesh Kobai, watched through his scope as the Gallente Security Force Kommandoes moved through the underbrush and approached the facility. While their camo suits would usually render them virtually invisible to the naked eye, on thermal view they showed up as bright as day. With a near silent whisper, he ordered his lieutenant to activate the mines.

Without a sound a thousand packages of death and mayhem activated, their sensors now primed to detect human or mechanical movement. While landmines were officially banned under the Concord Convention of Warfare, the Pathfinders felt that point was moot. They had already executed any Gallente wounded, so detonating a few thousand landmines really wasn’t going to make a difference.

A Gallente MTAC, at the head of the formation, marched through the forest. Durasteel legs pounded through the forest, as its sensors corrected its placement for the curvature of the forest floor. Gatling guns, mounted on its arms, sweeped, the area in front of it, in 90-degree arcs. It operator, thanks to his implant, was fed a variety of sensory and tactical information. Dull green armor plates, covered the mechanical behemoth, protecting vital components.

As the MTAC approached the facility, a corner of his mind registered a small, innocuous click. While normally he would ignore small sounds like those, since a MTAC operator would be usually be barraged by the full spectrum of noise, which ranged from the stomp of metallic feet to the whine of its motors. Whether or not he would have done something about that click would remain unresolved, as a mine was detonated by the presence of the MTAC.

A surge of heat and pressure radiated from the mine, smashing through metal support structures, crushing armor and burning electronic circuits. Suddenly bereft a leg, the MTAC flailed helplessly as it crashed into the ground, its control cabin crushed by the fall. The surrounding Kommandoes were incinerated by the blast and heat that radiated from the mine. Formerly silent comms, were now suddenly filled with the screams of the wounded and dying, and desperate requests for medical aid. Medics ran to their comrades, desperately trying to stave off the Grim Reaper from claiming more souls.

Captain Jaret Kosh’t watched, as the first wave of the Gallente attack force was ripped apart as the mines unleashed their deadly packages. He winced as he saw another MTAC fall to the ground and crush an unlucky Kommando that was nearby. He grimaced as he saw another Gallente soldier, lose both his legs as a landmine ripped them from underneath him.

He had positioned the remainder of the assault team in the surrounding forest. The overall plan was to buy time for reinforcements to arrive. Medium Assault Rifles (MARs) and shotguns were now wielded. A few members of the assault team carried with them rocket launchers. Every third soldier wielded an under slung grenade launcher. Camo suits were activated and the Pathfinders had complemented these suits with sticking part of the surrounding foliage into the seams of their suits. Every man and woman waited with baited breath, all waiting for the signal to unleash hell.

Jaret watched as the remnants of the first wave of Gallente soldiers were reinforced with the second wave of Kommandoes. He quietly watched as discipline was quickly re-established and as the dead and wounded were brought to their rear. He quietly watched as the second wave carefully passed his position, the Kommandoes scanning their surrounding. With a silent signal, he motioned his assault team to attack.

With flick of his hand, he now wielded his combat knife and in a smooth motion grabbed a nearby Gallente. Clamping his hand over the unlucky soldier’s mouth, he pulled the knife across the man’s neck and in an even stroke severed the man’s jugular artery. Blood gushed forth and covered his hands, as the man suddenly collapsed from lack of the blood. All around Pathfinders were repeating his actions, as they rose up like specters of death and claimed their victims.

Selecting another victim, Jaret carefully stalked him and began to position his knife. He was almost prepared to deliver the killing stroke, when in an instant the soldier whirled around. An instant passed, when killer and victim started each other in the eye, connected through that moment of death. Then it all went to hell.

In the hallways of the Gallente High Command, a team of Gallente Spec Ops soldiers carefully made their way through. Their eyes darted and scanned the hallway, noting the unnatural silence. CQB rifles were hefted and Night Vision Goggles pierced the darkness and gloom that now reigned in the hallways. Rebreather masks and HAZMAT suits prevented them from inhaling the toxic gas that now filled the corridors.

Their goal was to retrieve and rescue the Gallente High Command, whom were undoubtedly cocooned in the command room. Rated to withstand all manner of attack from the outside, it was a virtual fortress. Without the Gallente High Command, all military forces on the planet were virtually leaderless, the nearest command centre being located on Gallente Prime.

With a quick hand gestures, the spec-ops team investigated each room, noting the bodies that lay in odd postures. As they slowly approached the command room their pulses began to race as each soldier prepared for what they might find. Approaching a hidden console, the leader of the team entered in a code that granted him access to the room. With a whirr the blast doors slowly opened. A special forces soldier chucked in a flash-bang and for a moment a bright flash of thunder and light erupted from the room.

In a well polished maneuver the team streamed into the command room, rifles scanning their designated sectors. Night vision goggles pierced the darkness as each soldier registered what they saw.

CRACK! A shot rang out, and one soldier was thrown back, his armor sparking as it struggled to compensate for the slug, which smashed into it.

In a honed maneuver, driven by years of training and experience, another soldier raised his rifle, spotted the figure, a young attractive female clad in revealing attire and clutching a pistol, and fired two rounds into her forehead.

CRACK! CRACK! The young female suddenly had two extra eyes drilled into her forehead and she fell to floor in an almost graceful motion, her fingers firing the pistol in a final death spasm. The flash from her pistol illuminated the room and for an instant revealed the full scale of what had happened.

One by one the operators checked the slouching occupants of the room for any signs of life. Each corpse yielded no sign of life, as the pallor of death was fixed upon each of their faces.

The leader of the squad broadcast a quick terse message to his commanding officer, which revealed that almost everyone in the command centre was dead.

Jaret leapt the distance between the soldier and him, his knife flashing in the light of the rising sun. The soldier fired a round, which barely missed the Pathfinder. Almost in response to that lone shot, a thousand more shots rang out as the Gallente soon realized that they were being quietly ambushed. Jaret sunk his knife into his victim’s neck, his eyes locking onto the unfortunate man’s eyes, as his lifeblood drained from him.

Nearby another Pathfinder hefted his rocket launcher, aimed and then fired. A flaming explosive projective, was propelled towards its target an MTAC, whose operator had just opened fire. The unfortunate Pathfinder was immediately thrown backwards, as the heavy rounds slammed into his chest, blowing away armor and parts of organs. The rocket continued on its deadly path and it slammed into the MTAC. Armor plating was ripped apart and the operator was vaporized as the rocket unleashed its deadly payload and converted the former mighty MTAC into a bright red explosion.

Jaret whipped out his MAR and instantly opened fire. Rounds tore through foliage, armor and flesh. The silenced roar of his rifle, soon became louder, as his silencer overwhelmed by the fury of the unleashed rounds burned out. Around him the cries and clamor of battle reached a crescendo as the Caldari Pathfinders and the Gallente Kommandoes fought and grappled with each other.

Rockets flew threw the air, creating bright red explosions that consumed both man and machine. Soldiers fell to the ground, some clutching at their wounds and other continuing to fight where they lay. The formerly green foliage and trees was now caked with on odd mixture of engine oil, shrapnel and blood. Rifles, which had expended their rounds, were now turned into impromptu clubs, smashing skulls and breaking necks. Grenades exploded releasing their deadly waves of heat, pressure and shrapnel. Mines detonated impaling both friend and foe alike.

Sniper fired, their rounds flying at impossible speeds to their targets. Camo-systems overwhelmed by the surrounding chaos desperately tried to work, as platoons of half men, half phantoms engaged in a deadly struggle with each other.

Jaret desperately ordered a fighting withdrawal, and with ragged discipline the Pathfinders slowly withdrew back to the facility, making the Gallente pay for each inch they gained. Wounded were dragged or carried by their comrades and the dead were left where they laid. Hoisting one of his wounded brethren onto his shoulders, Jaret slowly inched his way back to the facility, trusting that the snipers would cover the remnants of the assault force.

The snipers fired, desperately trying to protect their comrades. Magnetically charged steel slugs flew through the air, striking both man and machine in the critical areas. Mechanical joints were shattered, leading to MTACs toppling to the floor, their Gatling guns still firing as they fell. Soldiers lost their throats and heads, as the steel slugs smashed and tore threw flesh and bone.

Admiral Jorus Fringer snarled as he saw his casualties mount. While they were slowly advancing they were taking horrendous casualties. He had lost entire battalions, their formerly proud warriors now reduced to the silent dead or the moaning wounded. MTAC divisions were ripped apart as explosive rockets, precisely aimed railgun rounds and deadly mines took their toll.

Any logical tactician would have immediately called off the assault, but Fringer knew that he didn’t have that option. If the Caldari still retained control of the orbital cannons, any invading assault possessed a potential advantage.

An alert over the command network, revealed by a fellow officer, that Gallente High Command was dead. Chaos soon reigned over the command network as officers argued over what to do. Soon reports began to stream in of Caldari Naval vessels moving through surrounding solar systems.

Fringer, realizing that he was the highest ranking officer on the planet, immediately took command. Fringer now more aware of the importance of retaking the facility, immediately ordered in more reinforcements. One officer, responded that he was dispatching a regiment of shock troopers. Another officer added that he was detailing a team of heavily armed tanks to support Fringer.

Out in the dark-emptiness of space, the Caldari Navy approached the planet, as the heavily outnumbered Gallente Defense Fleet attacked the immense formations. Every man and woman on those ships, knew that they didn’t stand a chance against the immense Caldari fleet. All they were able to do was buy more time for the ground forces to retake the orbital cannon centre, which would almost certainly reduce the Caldari to bits and pieces.

As the Caldari Navy approached the planet, a stream of missiles and railguns rounds erupted from the formation and flew towards the Gallente fleet. Majestic Caldari Chimera carriers and Wyvern
Motherships disgorged their streams of nimble fighters and heavy bombers. Heavy armed dropships streamed towards the planetary surface, escorted by the hordes of Caldari Dragonfly fighters. Wings of Caldari Navy Hookbills, covered by Harpys and Hawks opened fire on Gallente frigates and cruisers.

Missiles tore through durasteel plating and exploded, ripping apart the orbital cannons. They exploded in impressive display of fireworks, their deadly charges of cruise missiles and bombs detonating. Waves of thermal and electrical energy spread out from the wrecks of the orbital cannons as the Caldari Navy set to work at demolishing the orbital cannon network with impunity.

A flight of gunships flew straight towards the orbital cannon control centre, filled to their capacity with Caldari State Marines. Eager to rescue their brethren, the Marines made final checks on their equipment. The lead gunship broadcast a coded message to the Pathfinders, indicating the help was on it way.

Captain Jaret Kosh’t was thrown to the ground as a Gallente tank round tore through the foliage and exploded right in front of him. The wounded man he was carrying, was thrown away from him, crying out in pain as his injuries were worsened by the blast.

Jaret slowly pushed himself upwards and painfully crawled towards his comrade, each movement sending a wave of pain through him. As he reached his comrade, he noticed that the man had in fact died on impact. He flipped himself onto his back and prepared to make his final stand. Whipping out his pistol he started firing, noting that with every Gallente tank round fired, the stream of slugs and rockets erupting from the Pathfinder’s position seemed to lessen. Time seemed to slow down as he watched as a Gallente Kommando, step into his field of vision and raise his rifle.

Prashesh Kobai, watched as his close friend collapsed to the ground. With a roar he continued to fire his sniper rifle, his rounds continuing to leave their mark on the Gallente. The snipers continued to fire their rifles, desperately trying to hold off the enraged Gallente Kommandoes who seemed to ignore hail of slugs and rockets the Pathfinders put out. Prashesh, aimed carefully at the Kommando who was now aiming at his comrade and in a single motion fired a round that removed the man’s head from his shoulders. However, in the corner of his vision, he could have sworn he saw a tank’s turret swivel, aim and fire on his position.

Prasheh Kobai, slowly watched as his vision blossomed into fire and destruction, as the tank rounds blew him and the nearby snipers off their perches. Prashesh, slowly watched as his vision darkened into blackness. In a testament to his warrior spirit, Prashesh’ last words was the chant of the Pathfinder code, as the darkness claimed him.

In orbit, a Caldari Navy commander noted the huge concentration of Gallente military around the orbital cannon facility. While normally, he would have ordered a bombardment of the facility and its surroundings, the fact of the matter was that there were comrades defending the facility. Additionally high command wanted the facility intact, something about useful intelligence hidden there. However he just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to give, the Gallente Defense Forces, a black eye and so ordered an orbiting battery of artillery cannons to fire on his marked targets.

The commander allowed himself a slight grin as the rounds sped through the atmosphere to rain hell and destruction on the unlucky Gallente below

Admiral Jorus Fringer slumped forward in his command chair, as he registered the destruction of the orbital cannons. Despite all their best efforts, despite every maneuver they tried, it was only a matter of time before Caldari Prime fell. But what they could do was vanquish those bastard Pathfinders, whose numbers were dropping steadily by the minute. With a roar of rage, he threw all his forces onto Pathfinders, ignoring the officers who protested such suicidal orders.

In retrospect, that would be Fringer’s undoing. Having thrown all his available forces, he had in fact made them all an attractive target to the orbiting Caldari artillery ships. Fringer barely had time to glance at the nearby photo of his dear wife and child, before the artillery shells incinerated and destroyed him and his division.

All that Jaret do was watch as the tank blew the snipers off their perches with explosive rounds. His legs failed to respond to his will. His rifle and pistol having expended all their ammo, now lay at his feet. A MTAC stomped its way towards him, its feet sounding like thunder. Jaret slowly began to chant the Pathfinder code and prepared to join his comrades in death.

All of a sudden, like the wrath of an angry god, thunder and lighting erupted from the sky, as artillery rounds slammed into the assaulting Gallente Defense Forces. Man and machines were ripped asunder as the artillery rounds swept through the formations. Tanks were smashed into pieces, MTAC’s exploded and men were simply vaporized by the rounds. The forest, having long now been destroyed by the fight, erupted into flame as the shells ignited the streams of oil and blood that flowed through the forest.

Jaret slowly massaged his eyes open and gawked at the sight that greeted his eyes. Less than two feet from him lay the broken body of an MTAC. The charred corpse of the MTAC operator lay halfway through the broken windscreen, his burnt hands still clasping the ripped controls of the machine.

For the first time in hours, silence reigned in the forest. Jaret could hear thunder and lightning and felt raindrops on his skin. The rain started slowly first and then became a downpour, as if nature itself wanted to wash away the scars of this battle. The streams of rain that blanketed the charred remains of the forest soon washed expended rounds, blood and oil away.

A steady thrum of plasma engine soon greeted his ears, Caldari gunships landed and emptied their load of Caldari State Marines. Marines rushed to their positions, checking for any survivors and executing any Gallente wounded.

In a corner of his vision Jaret, saw the Marines stream into the facility, carrying out wounded Pathfinders out and marking the dead. Jaret saw one Marine Corporal approach him and say something. As Jaret was hauled to his feet, with two Marines supporting him, he regarded the full scale of death and destruction that had been unleashed in the past hours.

The corporal’s HUD registered the man as barely alive and the commander of this company of Pathfinders. The Marine Corporal, truth be told, thought he was talking to a corpse more than anything else. The man was pockmarked with wounds and blast marks. The man’s legs barely supported him. His eyes, were lifeless and they slowly moved from left to right.

The Marine would have thought the Pathfinder dead, if the man hadn’t suddenly started to cry, tears descending from his tired eyes, down his dirt-stained face and onto the blood soaked earth.

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Vengeance of the State – Part 2

Published on 13. Nov, 2009 ... written by Jaret Kosht.

Picture credit: Wotlankor

Goresh Forsan, senior commander of the orbital canon control facility, watched as reports flooded in detailing excessive damage to the facility and mounting casualties. Through a implant in his brain, he had access to live feeds from cameras located in the forest, and watched as one by one the camera blinked out. Another implant gave him top command of the attack drones and he ordered their deadly swarms to find the snipers. Around him officers barked out orders and updates pertaining to the situation

Without a pause for thought, Forsan declared a code red, alerting the nearby garrison for support. He was ready to order the MTAC’s to continue their advance into the forest, when a priority alarm was broadcast over the speakers.

“They’re inside!!” A voice screamed over the comms “We need backup, sector 22…”. Forsan flinched as he heard a shot ring out over the comms. Quickly accessing the database, Forsan started to sweat as he looked the thermal scans of operating rooms, that would be usually be warm with the body heat of technicians and soldiers, instead registered cold corpses.

“Dear God…” He murmured “those bastards are inside”

__________________________________________

At the rallying point for the GSF forces, instead of the quiet discipline of an assembled regiment rang out the roars and cries of battle. The Pathfinders carved their way through GSF forces, using assault rifles, shotguns and even knives. Soon the heat of battle gave way to the cold stillness of death, as the wounded moaned and the dead remained silent. The surviving Pathfinders, quickly restocked their ammunition, counted their dead and killed the wounded Gallente. One Pathfinder sergeant noticed that their leader, Jaret Kosh’t was missing. The odds of him fleeing the battle were low, as the Caldari honor code forbade leaving one’s comrades behind.

Mystified as to where Jaret could be, the sergeant surveyed the corpse littered zone, taking note of a hole in the wall. As several Pathfinders surveyed the area, they knew that they had to regain the initiative. They were ready to press on their attack, when out of nowhere they heard a loud bang.
__________________________________________

As Jaret’s vision began to blacken, in a move borne out of desperation, he whipped out his knife and started to stab furiously. Cold Caldari vibrosteel punctured skin, slashed flesh and yet the giant Brutor still maintained his grip. As Jaret looked into the Brutor’s eyes, he noticed blue streaks the ran through his eyeballs, as a portion of the Pathfinder’s mind ascertained that the giant was high on some cocktail of combat boosters and drugs.

Desperately, Jaret started clawing at the giants immense arms, desperately trying every possible technique to gain some release from the giant. Instead the giant’s deadly grin grew even wider, as he became amused at Jaret’s feeble attempts.

Deciding that he was out of options, Jaret’s arms clutched at his combat vest and he activated a grenade and shoved it at the giant’s face. As the world around him flashed bright white, Jaret’s managed to croak a final insult.

“Suck it.”

__________________________________________

Blinded by the amazingly bright light and load noise that assaulted his senses, the giant released the Pathfinder with a howl of pain. Ironically, the Brutor’s cocktail of stims and drugs, which had been designed to boost his senses, now worked against him. The already bright light and loud noise, generated by the flashbang, were now magnified a hundred times more, as his mind reeled from the barrage of sensory information. Pain and noise now dominated his mind, as he staggered back from the Pathfinder

Swining his Khuumak his circles, the Brutor sought to kill that slippery Caldari, whose head was only inches underneath the giants arcs. As he slowly regained his senses, he noticed in the corner of his eye, a soldier clad in camo gear, slowly take aim and fire. Times seemed to slow to crawl as the magnetically charged slug tore across the space between the soldier and the Brutor giant. The slug slowly twirled through the air and with the force of a ten-ton hammer, penetrated his skull. All the giant was able to was let loose a final roar of defiance, as his vision turned to red, black and then nothing.

__________________________________________

Prashesh and the Pathfinder sergeant regarded the Brutor giant, who was now missing his skull, thanks to the fact that both soldiers had fired at the giant at the same moment. With a silent nod, Prashesh took the lead, as the sergeant quickly pulled Jaret to his feet. The woozy captain, managed to sputter out a sentence, in a somewhat shocked tone.

“What?” he gasped, as the sergeant quickly gave him a shot of adrenaline “I’m not dead?!”

Prashesh, who had slung his sniper rifle behind his back, now wielded a shotgun. As he led the troops through the facility, he grimly assessed what his HUD was telling him. Their strength had been now reduced to three quarters, the act of fighting a numerically superior force and one with overwhelming firepower had started to take its toll on the Pathfinders. Yet they had to press on, failure was not an option.

Yes, Prashesh thought, as he blasted an unlucky Gallente into oblivion, Failure is not an option.

__________________________________________

The control centre was an example of organized chaos, with officers barking orders over comms. Forshan snapped concise commands over the comm network, ordering his attack drones to enter the facility, an operation for which the machines were not designed.

Over the network, a Gallente admiral contacted Forshan and confirmed that a regiment of the Gallente army was on its way. Soldiers armed with assault rifles and machine guns, backed up with MTACs and tanks were on their way. Still, Forshan knew that it would take them fifteen minutes to reach his position, and he knew a lot could happen in that time.

As he furiously tried to realign his forces, he noted that his sensors, which had registered the deadly progress at which the invading forces had made, indicated that they had come to a complete stop. Perhaps fortune had smiled on him finally.

However these would Forshan’s final thoughts as a hole was punched underneath him and he noticed in the corner of his vision, a rocket soar through the gap, pause in midflight and then detonate. A wave of heat and pain crawled up his legs, his arms, his head and finally there was nothing.

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With the help of rappelling lines, the assault team ascended into the main control room. As they surveyed the control room, they took in the carnage that had been unleashed by the lone rocket. Pieces of armor had been tossed around the room, shrapnel laced bodies hung at every possible angle. Officers, many of whom had died where they were, lay all over the place, their hands clutching their sidearm at a desperate final attempt to fight death.

Prashesh, quickly redeployed his snipers, along the rooftops of the facility and the surrounding vegetation. As he rushed to his new position, he noted Jaret slowly approach the central console

Jaret woozily approached the central console, pushing aside a corpse that had definitely seen better days. He carefully extracted a disk from his combat vest, inserted it into the central console and began to pray.
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As the program slowly inched its way out from the disk, it quickly began its purpose. It primary purpose was to “update” the central computer’s security network with the “latest” definition of computer threats. After the central computer ascertained the nature of the program and deemed it ‘friendly’, the program quietly went to work updating the threat database. After it finished its task, the program than shut itself down, having deemed its task done.

While the program itself did no damage, however what it had unleashed would be the digital equivalent of telling a city’s police forces that the mayor was the head of galactic terrorist, serial killer, megalomaniac conspiracy. Almost immediately, the drone brain registered these new threats, as they suddenly numbered in the thousands, and quickly sent out hunter killer programs to destroy these new threats to its existence.

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As the Pathfinders watched, the drone brain slowly tore itself apart, as its own hunter killer programs began to destroy key components of its own infrastructure. Finally the drone brain shut down, as it own support was destroyed

This of course would have been the moment when the Pathfinders would have celebrated, when they heard the buzzing of attack drones.

__________________________________________

Flying through the corridors at speeds unimaginable, the drone’s sensors began feeding their brains information. Thermal scanners noted the warm trail of blood and gore that marked the progress of the Pathfinders. Imaging sensors fed them pictures of expended rounds and broken bodies. Combat control system began to spin their razor sharp chainsaws, as they approached their destination. With jet black insectoid bodies, glowing red eyes, spinning chainsaws and measuring almost the size of human, they were death incarnate.

As Jaret Kosh’t spun around, it seemed that once again the Grim Reaper had marked him for death. As the swarm of drones entered the control room, time seem to freeze. His eyes registered the spinning blades that these drones wielded, their blood red eyes and the terrifying visage. His hands, borne out years of training, yanked his pistol out of his holster. In a smooth motion, he drew the pistol and began to fire.

All around him the roar of shotguns and rifles erupted, as man fought machine. Sensors exploded, limbs were lost as the deadly Pathfinders and the cold attack drones fought each other. One attack drone grabbed an unlucky soldier and began to rip into him. His partner, desperately fired an anti armor grenade, the resulting explosion engulfing all three of them. Jaret kept firing his pistol, as he desperately tried to avoid the deadly blades of the drones.

One Pathfinder sergeant, having been, tackled by a drone, desperately raised his shotgun to deliver the blow. It was for naught as the drone, smacked it out of his hands and began to move in on him. The sergeant, a grizzle veteran, pulled a specially marked grenade from his vest and detonated it. Waves of heat and electromagnetic interference pulsed out from it destroying both the sergeant and his robotic attacker.

The official policy on usage of EM grenades was to never use them in close proximity to human beings. This was due to the fact that the EM pulse, while designed to render electronic and mechanical equipment inoperable, could cause damage the human nervous system. Many soldiers who had been exposed to EM radiation suffered nervous twitches, damaged brains and scar tissue.

This point was rendered moot to the Pathfinders, as they desperately began to throw EM grenades at their attackers. Waves of EM radiation spread through the room overloading circuits, destroying computer systems and breaking down the attack drones. One by one, the attack drones began to fall to the ground, their circuits overwhelmed by the barrage of Electromagnetic interference.

For the first time in hours, the control room was finally silent. The Pathfinders quietly regarded their dead robotic foes and then went to work. Wounded were attended to and the dead were pushed aside as Jaret struggled to reorganize his team. As he quietly regarded the corpse of his sergeant, Jaret ordered a young lieutenant to dispose of the drones. Jaret ordered another lieutenant to contact the snipers and organize runners. The EM grenades had knocked out the assault team’s electronic equipment, which included scopes and comms. While some of the equipment could be reset, Jaret knew that for now they would depend on the sniper’s equipment.

“Captain” the lietentant he had sent to contact the snipers breathlessly reported “Prashesh reports enemy advances towards our position”

“What is the nature of this advance?” Jaret queried the shaking lieutenant. The EM pulses are already starting to take their toll on her, as Jaret noticed her hands were shaking.

“Infantry divisions, tanks and MTACs” The lieutenant responded “And a shitload of them too!!”

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Vengeance of the State – Part 1

Published on 11. Nov, 2009 ... written by Jaret Kosht.

Picture credit: Wotlankor

The magnetically charged slug burst out from LDR sniper rifle and charged across the vast gap from hunter to the hunted. Despite all this energy expended, there is only muffled crack that could be heard.

The slug, propelled with immense energy, pierces its target. The ballistic impact of the slug alone kills the target. However the slug is not finished. As it penetrates the skull, tiny explosives implanted in the slug, detonate. The result, needless to say, is immensely effective. The buffalo immediately keeled over, sans head, its corpse smashing the ground with the force of a miniature earthquake.

Jaret’s eyes focused; as he watched the buffalo herd begin the move. Without their leader, the herd wouldn’t know what to do. Any creature that had just watched their leader have its head removed would start to have doubts about the safety of it current position.

Prashesh, Jaret’s right hand man and close friend, fired another round. Another buffalo collapsed, this time missing a leg. As the sounds of the animal’s excruciating pain rang out through the forest, the herd collectively decided that enough was enough.

With what started with a few individuals, soon spread to the thousands. Soon, the thousand strong herd of buffalo began to stampede through the forest. Trees, bushes and even predatory animals were crushed in their path, as the herd sought to escape the hand of death that had so clearly killed their leader.
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Within the recesses of the control centre, within the banks of computers a program stirred. In a matter of seconds it registered information from sensors that something very large was moving towards the facility. With blinding speed, it quickly compared the mass of the object to data gleaned from the immense rows of databanks it had at its disposal. Confused, by what it found, it immediately sent out an alert to the operator.

One tired Gallente technician, who was looking forward to his warm bed, was annoyed at the insistent beeping his console gave out. With a snarl of annoyance he glanced at the readouts. What he saw puzzled and confused him. The readouts indicated that huge, swarming mass was approaching the facility. Activating one of the cameras, he was stunned by what he saw. A large, teeming mass of Striped Buffalos was fast approaching the facility.

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You are completely insane a part of Jaret’s mind drily noted.

To anyone else, would have considered Jaret was truly insane. Instead of staying clear of the mighty striped buffalo, as any sane individual would, he was leading his team after the herd.

As part of the assault element of his company, he had loaded his Medium Assault Rifle (MAR) with explosive rounds. Light enough to be carried into battle and close combat; it had enough firepower to blow through 5 layers of durasteel. While usually Jaret avoided using explosive rounds, for they had a nasty tendency spew out shrapnel at the shooter, he knew that the first moments of the assault would be key in order to overwhelm the guards. The respective squad leaders of the assault element had armed themselves also with explosive rounds.

It was in complete silence, that the assault element of the Pathfinders charged towards their objective, under the watchful cover of their brother snipers. There was no roar of aggression, no furious flag waving, as the holo-reels loved the depict it. Instead there was silent mass of half ghost, half human creatures that charged towards the perimeter. At approximately ten metres from the facility, they dropped to their knees and placed round black objects to the ground, in a circular pattern.

Jaret sought cover behind an old tree. After quick glance and having deemed the assault elements of the company secure, he detonated the explosives.
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Prashesh, watched all of this through his scope. He watched as the assault element charged through the forest. He watched as Jaret detonated the explosives. He watched as the assault team dove into the immense hole that had been created. Then it was time to stop watching and to start shooting.

As members of the Gallente Security Forces Kommandoes charged to their posts, Prashesh selected one unlucky soldier. With a move borne out of years of training and experience, he adjusted his aim and in a smooth motion pulled the trigger.

CRACK!!! One Kommando had his head removed.

CRACK!! One unlucky officer, who had been screaming instructions into her headpiece, also lost her head.

CRACK!!! One of the mini-sentries burst into pieces as the slug tore it apart, through sheer force alone.

CRACK! CRACK! Two more GSF soldiers fell to his deadly aim.

In distance, Prashesh, saw platoons of soldiers rally for a counter attack and MTAC operators rush to their machines

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! A flurry of shots from the snipers, ensured that four MTAC operators never reached their mounts.

The foliage around his position began to snap and break, as a GSF soldier had undoable zeroed in on his position and had begun to open fire.

With a snarl Prashesh, swung his rifle around and in one smooth motion fired a deadly shot.

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Jaret’s heart pounded as the assault team charged through the corridors. Splotches of blood and corpses marked their path, a testament to the ferocity of their assault. As they surged through the corridors, the Pathfinders, never paused for a second, blasted anyone unlucky to be in their path. Gallente soldiers, officers and even unarmed technicians fell to their wrath, as the State finally exacted its vengeance for the occupation its homeworld.

Rounding the corner, the Pathfinders slammed into a stunned assembly of GSF troops, whom were undoubtedly rallying for a counter attack, against the Caldari Snipers outside. Responding within seconds, a fact that would have made their instructors proud, the Pathfinders opened fire with a barrage of fire.

WHAP! WHAP! Without thought or remorse, Jaret selected an unfortunate GSF soldier and fire two rounds in their head.

WHAP! WHAP! Another enemy soldier received two rounds in the neck

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! One GSF officer, received three rounds in the stomach, collapsing to the ground as his entrails bled out.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Jaret continued to fire, lost in the heat of battle, firing rounds and taking cover every couple of seconds. Leading his comrades, they slowly advanced down the corridor, pouring death and destruction into the unfortunate Gallente soldiers. The defenders bravely held their ground and soon both sides met each in hand to hand combat.

Grenades flew through the air, releasing bursts of searing heat and deadly shrapnel. Rounds slammed into their targets, as both sides began fire into each other. Slugs ripped through armor and flesh, maiming or killing their targets. Armor systems pushed to their max, pumping biofoam into open wounds, as even more rounds smashed into them. Knives were wielded and plunged into the necks, armpits or groins of unlucky soldiers. Wounded warriors, continued to fire and fight where they lay, determined to drag their enemy with them into the abyss of death.

Blood splattered onto the nearby walls as soldiers all around him, shot and grappled with each other. Within seconds Jaret’s HUD indicated that he was down to his last round. As if fate had conspired against him, Jaret came face to face with a very large and very angry Brutor.

No doubt a mercenary, the Brutor giant smashed an unlucky Pathfinder with an immense Khuumak. The giant’s blood red amour had ragged holes that had been punched into it. In his enormous hands, he held the Khuumak, which was caked with blood. With a snarl the Brutor, a mere half metre away from Jaret, surged towards him like ravenous predator eager to devour its prey.

With a smooth motion Jaret aimed for the giant and fired his last round. But it seemed fate had marked Jaret for death, for in an impossible move, the giant swatted the round aside as if it were a fly, with his Khuumak.

Desperately Jaret reached for his knife, but a part of his mind knew it would be too late.

“Oh fuu…” Jaret managed to mumble, before the giant smashed into him and propelled him through a wall. The impact alone sent stars twirling into Jaret’s field of vision. Were it not for his armor, Jaret’s internal organs would have been liquefied by the impact. The giant, then picked Jaret up from the floor and lifted him up to regard his face

The bastard wants to choke me to death Jaret’s shocked mind managed to piece together, as he looked onto the grinning battle visage of the Brutor. The giant’s tattoos seemed to pulsate, as the giant’s grin became even wider. With a slow but gradually increasing pressure, the giant began to increase pressure on Jaret’s neck, and the Pathfinder’s world began to gradually darken.

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Were it not for his HUD, Prashesh would have lost track of the number of kills he had rung up since the start of his operation. For the past hours, he had settled into a pattern of selecting a target and firing at it. All around him his fellow snipers, created chaos, confusion and death for the enemy. In the air, hung the smell of death, as GSF squads struggled to flush out the snipers and paid dearly for it. Gallente MTAC’s crashed to ground or into the nearby trees as railgun rounds smashed through their leg joints or into the operator’s hatch.

Prashesh, had ordered his snipers to change their positions every couple of shots to prevent the enemy from getting a fix on them. The end result was that the Gallente were desperately clutching at straws, in order to catch an invisible but deadly enemy.

However, that was not to say it was easy. Prashesh had seen his sniper’s forces reduced by a quarter, as overwhelming Gallente firepower reduced unlucky comrades to shreds. Then of course there were the battle drones.

Like a creature that had been unleashed from hell, these battle drones were a nightmare on the battlefield. Possessing an array of weapons that included auto-cannons and deadly disturbingly chain saws, these drones were truly the robotic specter of death. Possessing an appearance, that could only be described as both insectoid and disturbing, their optic clusters glowed red, as they floated through the air. Prashesh had seen the drones rip through his comrades with a robotic determination. The chain saws ripped through foliage and flesh, reducing both to slivers in a matter of minutes.

Only a few seconds earlier, could only watch helplessly as one of his comrades, a young lady became the target of a drone. As he watched helplessly, she had done the only thing possible and detonated her grenades, destroying the drone as it grappled with her and mercifully ending her agony.

Prashesh, therefore did the only logical thing at that moment. He ordered his remaining snipers to dive into the hole that had been created by the assault team. He could only hope that the cover afforded by the facility would help to protect them from the overwhelming Gallente firepower.

Without a word, the snipers quickly abandoned their positions and charged towards the hole, leaving mines and claymores in their wake. As Prashesh dived into the darkness, he prayed that he hadn’t made a rash decision.

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Vengeance of the State – Introduction

Published on 09. Nov, 2009 ... written by Jaret Kosht.

Picture credit: Wotlankor

He slowly made his way to the bar, brushing past a small group of chatting pod-pilots. With a hand that trembled with experiences that threatened to overwhelm his senses, he motioned to the dour faced bartender for a drink. With a face that’s had seen too many tragic experiences for one so young, he ordered a strong Intaki rum, with brown sugar and hot water.

Jaret Kosh’t scanned the room around him as he waited for his drink, he noticed in the corner of the room a new holo-reel showcasing the grand military parade that circled the planet of Caldari Prime. He listened as the newscaster babbled some nonsense about this being the day being the third anniversary of the liberation of Caldari Prime. He listened for some time as the newscaster continued to list the ‘technical’ malfunctions that shut down the Gallente orbital planetary defense system.

I guess that’s what they call it now, Jaret thought as he accepted he drink from the bartender

As Jaret stared at the golden liquid that was in glass, his mind went back three years back in time and space, back from the dark bar on some dingy station low-sec space to the forests of Caldari Prime.

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Three Years Earlier

Within his camo suit, Captain Jaret Kosh’t, of the Pathfinder Legion of the Caldari State Marines, slowly made himself more comfortable. He had positioned his company of elite Pathfinders throughout this forest on Caldari Prime. In the weeks before they had quietly infiltrated the planet, usually under the guise of being students, business executive or in some cases Scope News reporters. When they arrived on planet, they would usually link up with one of the Caldari Provists that were sprinkled throughout the populace.

Many members of the Caldari Navy had an opinion on the Heth’s provists. To some they were merely undisciplined thugs or maniacs, capable of doing more harm then good to the State. To others they were patriots, who were willing to do anything for the State. Jaret, in line with that of the military leadership, viewed these provists as nuisance, since they were more than likely to screw up a mission for some misplaced act of patriotism.

In the days and weeks since Tibus Heth’s ascension to power, these Provists now became commonplace. They now sprung in positions of leadership or power. They sprung up in the most unlikely of places as well, with the rank and file of office workers, factory workers and the Navy.

Caldari Prime soon became a focus of Heth’s efforts. Lost to the Gallenete Federation during the Freedom Wars, it now was a vassal of the Federation. Positioned behind the Tripwire sensor system, that protected the Federation from any aggressive moves, the Navy had put aside any dreams of liberating the planet. With Heth in power now, that all changed. Soon rumors circulated among the military leadership that there was a way to disable the Tripwire system. However that was not why the Pathfinders were on Caldari Prime.

What concerned the Navy’s leadership even more, was the fact of the orbital canons, which circled Caldari Prine. While, usually, human hands would control these orbital canons, however the Gallente decided on a different approach. The Gallente’s advanced knowledge with regards to drone technology made these canons were more precise, more accurate than anything a human being could hope for. Hence the Gallente had decided to control all the orbital canons via a control centre that was located in an innocuous forest on Caldari Prime.

The Gallente were so confident in their system that they had decided to move a majority of their fleet from the orbit of the planet. They had good reason to. Capable of launching a variety of ordinance, that included bombs, railgun rounds and cruise missiles, the orbital canons in a matter of minutes would shred any hostile fleet to bits. Many a Caldari Admiral had spent sleepless nights worried about the presence of these orbital canons.

These canons were controlled through a drone control system, located in a formidable control centre. Hidden in a remote forest on Caldari Prime, the fortress was defended by crack Gallente Defense Force Kommandoes guarding it whom were backed up with battlefield MTACs. What made it even more difficult was the fact that there was an additional garrison at edge of the forest, no doubt filled with even more Gallente soldiers and armor.

While it was largely intended that the hidden fortress was to remain from prying eyes, the Caldari Navy had found it. By using data collected from capsuleers who had made cargo runs to the planet, they had found that a significant amount of plasma gel was earmarked for a small resort.

What made it even more interesting was the fact that the resort, had been shut down for past three years. Knowing the Gallente, a pleasure resort shut down for more than a week was very odd. What made it even more interesting that the was that thermal scans later sureptiously conducted by contracted capsuleers, revealed that a portion of the resort was far cooler than the other areas, including the forest.

This could only mean, that there was something more to the resort than what meets the eye. Hence why a company of Pathfinders was hidden in the forests surrounding the ‘resort’.
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The Pathfinders, represented the finest fighting force available to the Caldari State. They were trained to operate with a variety of tactics that included jungle warfare, zero g combat and covert operations. They were harbingers of death and destruction to the State’s enemies, be they Gallente spies or Minmatar terrorists. They were the bane of the Guristas, the terror of the Sashas and the nightmare of the Serpentis. They were the wrath of the State, the guardians of the Caldari and the sharp tip of the Caldari State Marines.

However what made the Pathfinders truly elite, was the pool of knowledge they had their disposal. Many Pathfinders had graduated from some of the finest Universities in the State, only to turn their back on a corporate career and join the Caldari State Marines. If they passed the requisites and the grueling training, they were then accepted into the Pathfinder Legion. Hence each Pathfinder not only knew how to effectively create mayhem and destruction, but potentially had knowledge on other matters such as accounting or engineering.

Jaret Kosh’t, as a Pathfinder, wielded some of the finest equipment the State could afford to provide his men. The Pathfinders received training and equipment from all the mega corporations that made up the Caldari State. Some of them wielded the MAR (Medium Assault Rifle), complete with optics, manufactured by the Ishukone Corporation. Others wielded the LDR (Long Distance Railgun), a sniper’s rifle, which shot rounds of dense, magnetically charged permasteel. Every one of them, carried knives that were forged with cold Caldari steel. The Lai Dai Corporation manufactured their armored camo suits, which now reflected the environment surrounding them. They all had received training from the finest instructors within all the mega-corporation’s security forces.

For the past two weeks they had quietly observed their target, a large sprawling resort set close to the forest. They watched as the supposed ‘construction’ crews, which were oddly made up of military age men and women, entered and left the facility. The previous years of peace had made the Gallente forget how to properly hide a military facility.

However tonight would be different. According to his Provist contact, the Navy planned to strike in the early hours of the morning, in order to minimize civilian, primarily Caldari, casualties. Hence they had only that night, to secure the command centre and hold it before reinforcement would arrive. Jaret, suffered no illusions if they should fail.

Over two and half kilometers away from the facility, Jaret and his partner Prashesh, lined up their targets. The plan was that the Pathfinders, would insert into the facility, by moving through the nearby forest. While undoubtedly there would be sensors system hidden in the forest, the Provists had suggested a radical plan to counter the sensors. They would force the nearby herd of Striped Buffalo to stampede.

Weighing in at about a ton and with a height of five meters and a length of four meters, the striped buffalo were not to be trifled with. In fact when the Provists had suggested the plan, Jaret almost laughed it off. But the more he discussed it with his comrades, the more it made sense. If they did manage to force the herd to stampede, it would mean that the sensor operators would be overloaded with a barrage of sensory information, thus giving cover for his Pathfinders to infiltrate the facility.

Hence, this was the reason why Jaret Kosh’t ordered his best sniper Prashesh Kobai to aim the finest piece of military equipment, that there was, at the head of a dumb buffalo. The digital scope fed the sniper information regarding wind, elevation, temperature and angle. Despite all the technology, it still came down to the skill of the operator to aim and pull the trigger.

Thus the opening shots of the Battle of Caldari Prime, were fired from by a Pathfinder at the head of a buffalo.

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