from Taggart Transdimensional
Ventilation shafts weren’t Kell's favorite place to sleep, but he counted himself lucky. Infiltrating Amarrian strongholds was not exactly the easiest trick to pull, and he valued the lack of sewage he had to wade through. At the sound of whining hovercraft approaching, he peered out of the grate into the sparsely lit warehouse.
“Alright Gruu, we are online.” Kell whispered.
The word “copy” came through Kell’s head. With a little tinkering, Gruudush had set up short-burst comm. units within his team’s Id-Onix devices. Their voices would travel through their brain rather than through ear pieces, reducing the chance that chatter would be heard during a patrol. Kell slid on his belly to the grate that overlooked the entrance on the outside wall, “I have three JU-5 hover trucks escorted by three Mark IV assault vehicles approaching from the North. ETA: 10 minutes.”
Kell moved back to the grate overlooking the interior. He saw a member of his team emerge from a shadow in a black jumpsuit and take an Amarrian on a smoke break. ‘One down, three to go,’ Kell thought. In one fluid motion, he saw three other Minmatar glide down from the ceiling and drop the three other guards before they could squeeze off a shot.
“Good work,” said Kell, “Prepare your charges, those Marks need to be rigged when we take those trucks.”
The four black-clad commandoes slipped back into the shadows, awaiting the convoy. “Just take a deep breath…” Kell told himself. As the only Caldari on this mission, he had more of a leadership role, so the natural fighting skill of the minmatars could shine. But, now was his time. This was why he was on the ground and not at the ship. He popped the grate and dropped to the floor.
He trotted along the hard metal floor, making as little noise as possible and arrived at the terminal. He quickly produced his PDA and began browsing the Vitoc shipments arriving and departing. His fingers blazed across the keys, opening transfer files, looking at contacts. His timer was counting down…. “Aha!” he whispered. He found the shipment that was approaching, and quickly updated its status to: “Drop and await instruction.” Oh God how he wished there was a “Drop and go away” but the Amarians guarded their Vitoc well, and they always had their eyes (and guns) watching the precious substance. He unplugged and sprinted to the corner.
The armored door slid into the ceiling and the six vehicles pulled into the building. A large Amarrian hopped out of the forward truck and slid his contract through the reader on the side of the terminal. He quickly found out that the status had been changed. “Damn those slave traders. They think they own my time.” He spoke into a comm. device, “Everyone unmount and take a break. I’m going to the Command Center to sort out this mess.”
The armored figure began to walk to the door when one of his men said “Sir, should I take you in a Mark?”
“No,” Kell thought, “no, no, no...” These were the only weapons platforms that were manned and operational at this time of night. If a Mark left the warehouse, his team couldn’t plant a charge on it, and once the Amarrian got to the Command Center, he would know that the records had been tampered with, because the new status would not match that of the database.
“No,” the commander said. “I need some air.”
“Heh, air,” Kell thought, “hardly, after all the toxins pollute it.”
The Commander left, and as the men congregated to play Huj Ma, a new Amarrian card game, Kell's team made their way through the vehicles, planting explosives in volatile areas. When the team was in position, Kell strode out of the shadows to the table where the soldiers sat. “Hello. I am here to take your Vitoc.” he said.
The men laughed. The senior officer growled, “You and what army?” The men reached for their weapons, but they came up short. They had rested their pulse rifles against their chairs and the Minmatars had carefully removed them.
“Is there a problem?” Kell asked. The men jumped at him, and the lead got a stun bolt in the gut. “Wait right there boys, I don’t want to make this violent, but if you do, I will compensate.” The guards slowly backed down.
As the hover truck engines began to fire up, Kell ticked things off on his fingers, “Alright, please keep playing cards, do not attempt communications, and do not attempt to follow. Or else…Boom! Nice doing business with you.” Kell hopped into a truck cruising by and looked back at the men, steaming because of their helplessness. All of a sudden, they sprinted to their Mark IVs. “I warned them,” said Kell, “We will see if they can be lost before we exit the base.”
The hover trucks screamed through the gates of the Amarrian outpost. Barreling down the causeway, Kell conversed seemingly to no one in particular, “Gruu, we have 3 trucks heading north towards the spaceport. I need immediate pickup in designated rendezvous point 44-Alpha.” Gruudush’s voice came through his head once again, “I copy that Kell. I am getting all kinds of comm. traffic from the outpost. I don’t think your charges went off as planned.” Kell replied, “Yeah, I figured I would keep the bloodshed to a minimum. Just for you buddy.”
“Thanks.”
The trucks stopped in an empty field and the team begun to unload the Vitoc shipment with cargo skiffs. Light splayed across the skiffs as the door to a cargo bay opened, previously concealed by a cloaking device. Gruudush yelled from the hatch controls, “Lets load this stuff guys, we need to be outbound in 20 minutes!”
The precious cargo was brought aboard, safely secured, and soon after, the Vitoc pirates were well on their way back to base. “Nice doing business with you again, Gruudush.”
“Yes Indeed, Kell. This Vitoc will be very valuable to escaped slaves. Maybe not as profitable for us compared to bartering with slave traders, but we are doing a great service for the Minmatar.”
The trip to the pirate outpost was uneventful, and after overseeing the transfer of containers to remove any Amarrian identification, the vitoc was moved to the corporation hangar to be distributed to the Minmatar refugees.
Kell
spoke to Gruudush outside his docking berth, “Well, Gruudush,
I have to say, I enjoyed your company just as much as always.
I wish I could stay and have a drink with you and the
team at ‘The Blast Crater’ but I have an important meeting
with a big wig at TTI in the Gashnag system. They are
very interested in my electronics skills over there, and
their fiscal policy is very attractive for a modern
Caldari like me.”
“Thanks for your help; Very good work as always.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you around. I better see the real you next time too, and not just one of your bullshit clones that doesn’t remember the last three months.”
“Ok, ok. I’ll be careful. See you around Kell.Kell began plotting his route to Gashnag, excited and anxious to join the epitome of Caldari corporate success, in the form of Taggart Transdimensional.
He
couldn’t wait to meet Ragnar, the great man behind Taggart’s majesty.
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