Surgical Strike

The military jeep raced across the dunes of blue dust, the chilly winds of the surface of Amaranthine barely bothering its occupant. There was nothing in sight, at least not out where the mining teams lacked something to dig for. After all, that was all the Amaranthine colony was about: creating a profit for the corporations and the Confederation. It was a surprise terraforming even took place on the planet, but the big-wigs in government had quite a few plans.

First Lieutenant Lexine Steiner used one hand to shift her wraparound sunglasses back up onto her face, the other grasping the jeep's wheel with a fingerless black glove. She hadn't been on Amaranthine long for her assignment, but already she was wishing she could be somewhere less backwater… or at least paired up with one of her other squad members. The 59th Strategic Response Squadron was one of the Confederation of Alarios's Special Operations units, and she knew all too well of the rumors citizens said about them. Media hailed them as peacekeepers and heroes, while to others they were assassins or wetwork operatives. Lexine didn't care. This was better than being confined to a planet, doomed to work in the mines just because one had the misfortune of being born there. The universal dream was to make a lucrative living in the idealized world of mining, but the real thing was a far cry from harsh conditions under the iron fist of the corporations. It was rather obvious why people would protest and rebel, fighting the oppression of the corporations and government… and why the SRS would be viewed as simply tools for the Confederation to enforce their will.

"Not paid to think or question," she murmured, eyeing the jagged rocks rising in the distance. This was better than being stuck without much of a life on some mining colony like Amaranthine. She let up on the gas and secured her earpiece, amber eyes now scanning the distance for any signs of life. There were faint tire tracks that hadn't been completely covered up by the dust storms, perhaps because they were so recent. Intel had paid off after all.

As the engine died down, she stepped from the driver's seat and swapped her cap for her helmet, pulling down the polarized visor and strapping on her gear. Maybe there was truth in the wetworks description. If there was a problem the corporations didn't want to get their hands dirty with, they just "politely asked" the Confederation with assistance in handling the problem, usually with lethal force. There were enough SRS squads to have them split up quite a bit around the colonized universe, but this was the first time she had been involved in one of these operations. Still, there wasn't much of a difference between sniping a crazed gunman holding a hostage and taking out the rebel leaders inciting riots that could get innocent people hurt.

Or am I just justifying this?

She paused in the middle of securing the shield device to her left forearm, its silver alloy glinting faintly in the illumination of the large moon overhead. No, she was just thinking too much was all. Securing her knife to her belt, she slung her bag across her back and sprinted across the expanse of blue dirt. As soon as she reached the jagged rocks she climbed hand-over-hand, occasionally flicking her eyes about to make sure no patrols were nearby to spot her. Flyovers revealed at least six heat signatures, but it fortune favored her they would stay clustered around the small camp the rebels were using. Her boots hit solid ground at the top now, a slight bead of sweat running down her face as she sprinted to cover. Rocky terrain wasn't unfamiliar to her, but it didn't change the fact she despised having to race across it. The last thing she needed was to lose her footing, even if none of her squadmates were around to see her humiliate herself. Now she slowed near the edge, crouching to set down her bag and pull out her sniper rifle. With trained hands she set it up, attaching the thermal imaging scope and lying prone on the rocky ground.

Two, three… four inside. Two outside. One on each opening into the camp area. These guys definitely lack any training. Or common sense if you ask me.

Lexine shifted into a better position, her finger resting against the trigger as she trained the sights on the farthest guard and deactivated the thermal imager. Technology had come a long way from bullets that needed to be adjusted for drag and gravity. Then again, the technology they were given was quite a step above the ammunition of weapons the normal military and private security used. It was hard at times to remember that this was no longer conventional ballistics she was dealing with, but something far more efficient and deadly. With a flick of the finger the safety was off and she exhaled softly, holding her breath as the crosshairs rested over the "sweet spot" of her target. With one pull of the trigger, a round of blue energy ripped through the air, the blast muted by the rifle's silencer. The rebel guard never knew what hit him as the energy round went cleanly through his skull, and he kicked up blue dust as his body hit the ground. That was one down, and she expertly shifted the sights onto the second guard. Another shot, another body.

Now clearing the building was all that remained. It was small, and considering it was set against the rocky walls it likely only had the one escape route besides the windows. Lex packed away her rifle now, checking to make sure her sidearm was secure. A short trip down brought the clattering of rocks, the sound barely audible over the howling wind. She kept a low profile, moving in a running crouch while the dark color of her gear blended with the dust everywhere. There was no shouting from the structure, no apparent awareness from the occupants that their outside guard had been taken out.  It took a few seconds to set the charge, Lex taking the familiar weight of her pistol in hand.

Three, two, one…

The blast shook her to the bone, but she wasted little time in trying to shake it off. Dust and smoke had been kicked up by the breaching charge, but she stepped right through and snapped up the handgun. Still distracted by the unexpected explosion, the door guard who stumbled forward went down with a pistol round to the back of the head. Now they knew she was here. The lieutenant squeezed off two more shots with trained accuracy, dropping another rebel who was reaching for his weapon. Two loud gunshots of conventional firearms alerted her to where the third target was, but even in low visibility one of them found their mark. She grunted at the burst of pain in her gut, the vest stopping most of it but likely leaving a bruise beneath. He was trying to move into one of the side rooms, but she closed the gap swiftly and drew her knife. There was that familiar resistance as blade met flesh, but she didn't hesitate or flinch in the slightest. Lex could see the life drain from his eyes, wet warmth on her fingers, but she released the hilt and focused instead on securing the building.

A row of computers lined the back of the building, indicating this was indeed the base of computer operations for the rebels on Amaranthine. Noises from the doorway in the corner gave away the location of her last target, and she could hear them breathing heavily and fumbling about for something. Lexine stepped through the door now, training her handgun on the final rebel… and froze when she saw who it was. Huddled beneath one of the computer desks with what looked like a crowbar in hand, the fear in his emerald eyes visible even from where she stood, was a boy of around fifteen or so. "P-Please, don't hurt me," he begged, on the verge of tears. "I don't want to die!"

Her handgun's barrel now slowly pointed towards the floor, the SRS operative staring down at him silently. Orders had been clear to eliminate all targets in the rebel compound, but… this was a kid right in front of her. He wasn't even eighteen. "Drop the weapon and turn around with your hands on your head."

Relief flooded into his eyes at the opportunity to merely be arrested and not executed, the youth tossing away the crowbar and following instructions. Lexine holstered her firearm, pressing a finger to her earpiece before moving forward to apprehend him. "This is Steiner. Objective complete. Move in for clean-up. Secondary objectives also secure."

"Copy that. Raven dropship is moving in."

Once the zip-tie was tight enough that the youth couldn't slip his hands free, she stepped back and moved towards the door. It was a low-tech piece of hardware, but it still was infinitely useful at times. Lexine peered around the doorway, making certain that the three targets she had taken down were down for good. Already she could hear the high-pitch whine of the dropship's engines, so she waited until she could see the gunmetal gray craft set down outside the structure. This mission was over, carried out cleanly like just about any mission the SRS was assigned to. It's why they were so esteemed after all.

From outside the door she could hear the newly-arrived soldiers executing the CO's orders, securing each of the bodies. She didn't take her eyes off the scared teenager who kept flicking his gaze towards the door, the fear so obvious on his face. Rebellion had a high price for its participants to pay, after all. "Lieutenant Steiner!" a voice barked from behind her. She performed a crisp about-face, snapping off a salute as the commander of Amaranthine's security forces stepped into the room. Commander Dorian was gruff and serious, reminding her often of the stereotypical drill instructor.  There was an obvious reason why his subordinates never dared question or talk back to his face. "I thought your objectives were quite clear."

"Sir? I cleared the building and secured the computers used by the rebels."

He drew his sidearm, pointing it forward directly at Lexine. For a second she completely blanked, her heart freezing within her chest. This wasn't the first time someone had pointed a weapon at her, but this was a CO, the man giving her the orders… and then he pointed past her, firing off one single shot. It was instinctive for her to flinch just a bit, her nostrils flaring and her amber eyes wide with shock behind her helmet's visor. The thud seemed unnaturally loud in the small room, and Lexine couldn't bring herself to look behind her. He was just a teenager, barely even far in his life. She locked gazes once more with Dorian, who never once showed any remorse or regret for the loss of a young life. As if he had just performed some menial task he holstered his weapon casually, disapproval in his cold gray eyes. "You were ordered to eliminate all targets, Lieutenant. Now your objectives are complete." He stood at a loose parade rest, trying to intimidate her with his stare. "Your higher-ups will receive a full report, Steiner. You're dismissed. Return to your temporary quarters."

It felt as if her body was numbed and refused to respond, but she managed to snap off a salute regardless and brush past him to exit the room. She couldn't even look at the soldiers who were dealing with the bodies and going into the rebels' computers, making her way out to the dropship. Their congratulations for a job well-done fell on deaf ears, because all she could hear was that gunshot and all-too-familiar thud of a body hitting the floor. Lexine removed her helmet as she sat in one of the uncomfortable dropship seats, setting it down beside her and pressing her fingers to her temples while closing her eyes. Over and over she heard it, and she kept imagining the crimson dripping down his youthful face, a face that was now pale and lifeless…

"Stormblade! We're here!"

She opened her eyes once more, and it was no longer the high-pitched whine of the dropship's engines she heard, but the churning of a truck's wheels against gravel its rather loud motor running. It was easy to slip into memories like that sometimes, especially considering the nature of her… upgrades. "I hear you," she called back, her voice flat. Sitting in the back of truck had been rather unpleasant, but not the worst thing to deal with. It was no surprise she lost herself in memories of Amaranthine, considering how vital of a role it played in changing her life. This was where she began to ask questions, the last mission before she had become something more than human. Of course she would one day end up back here. Metal scraped against metal as she rose to a crouch, the HUD in her vision flickering back to life. Even with the noise of the truck she could hear gunshots popping in the distance, indicating an intense firefight. The rebel spirit still wasn't squashed, even after a year and a half, and these past months had seen the corporation on the ropes for control over the colony. This was the final battle to break the iron grip of the Raynor Corporation, and with operations in each of the three major sectors on Amaranthine, their already diminished forces couldn't take it. As it was the battles were almost wrapped up, and she had just finished destroying the air support Raynor forces would use to bomb residential areas in a last-ditch chance for retribution.

The truck came to a stop, the cab door opening and shutting before the back of the truck was pulled open. It was hard to believe the lanky, black-haired man who stood before her was a rebel fighter, but this guy was intent on helping her as much as he could after she pulled his butt out of the fire. Literally. "So uh, they said Commander Dorian's vehicle is down in the quarry, where the rebels got him mostly pinned down. They're not in like, dire need of help, but you swoopin' in could save a few extra lives, yeah?" By his accent, he was either Earthborn or simply of Irish descent and picked up on the accent. Most families tried to keep the old accents and languages alive even this far from their origin planet.

"I know." She jumped down from the truck, her sleek teal armorsuit glinting slightly in the sun. "They won't even know what will hit them." Her amber eyes were hidden behind the black visor of her helmet, her entire suit environmentally sealed and giving her quite the intimidating appearance of something more machine than human.

Before she could start off for the edge of the quarry, the driver grasped her by her shoulder. "Hey, ah… you be careful, yeah?"

She glanced back at him, silent for a few seconds before he finally lowered his hand out of intimidation. "Allen, right?" Surprise crossed his face at the apparent fact she even remembered his name or bothered to use it, but he quickly nodded once the shock subsided enough for his brain to function. "Thanks."

"Hey, um, know you're on a tight schedule and all, but… why're you helping us? I heard the reports and all that, calling you some civilian-killing terrorist. Then again, never really believed the Confed propaganda.  But why get so involved in the fight on some backwater mining colony?"

Once more she remained silent briefly, but this was to figure out her reply to give. "Revenge," she answered simply, starting now across the deep blue ground.

"Is that all?" She frowned behind her helmet, turning her head just a bit. "I mean, revenge won't get you far, yeah? Is that all you want to live for? Not trying to be corny here, but I think you know what happens when revenge is all you look for. There's more to life than that."

"…Maybe there is. But right now? There's someone who's been waiting a long time for this." She took another step forward, the thrusters on her armorsuit igniting as she bent at the knee. With a blast she was racing over the ledge and straight into the air, holding out her arms slightly to maneuver towards the center of the quarry. Her HUD locked onto Commander Dorian's jeep, the hardsuit computer calculating the trajectory and automatically controlling the thrusters. A rebel sharpshooter had taken out the wheels, depriving them of a getaway vehicle but still providing them some form of cover. None of them knew what was coming, not yet.

The thrusters died down as she drew close, gravity now doing its work. One of Dorian's guards had wheeled about in shock and raised his rifle, but it was too late as a blue energy blade from the forearm section of her armor pierced into his skull. She dissipated the blade, lunging forward and grabbing Commander Dorian by the front of his dirtied uniform. The moment he tried to aim his handgun at her, he was screaming in agony from the energy blade jutting through the center of his hand. "It's over. Amaranthine is free."

His hatred was almost palpable, and the guard behind him unable to fire without hitting his commander. He had to know there was no way out of this situation for him. "You're a murdering terrorist. All you care about is bloodshed and fear." Dorian grunted as he was slammed hard against the side of the jeep, that anger never fading even as her helmet was within centimeters of his face. "You're just an ani—aaagh!"

This time the blade had been twisted in his palm, and fear finally came into those cold eyes. "I'd say you need to look in a mirror, but you won't have the time. You've had this a long time coming." She twisted it again, not even taking satisfaction in his shouting. There was no satisfaction in this, because there was a life that would never come back as a result of his actions. "You remember, right? That boy you shot, a boy you never knew the name of and likely never cared to find out. He was just a target to you."

Realization dawned on Dorian's face, beads of sweat rolling down it. "You… you're…" He gasped, barely able to talk with the pain. By now he knew this was his judgment, something he couldn't escape from.

"His name was Desmond Quinn. You took a son, a brother, from his family." She flung him roughly to the ground, snapping her head to the side as she saw the guard raising his weapon. But instead of firing, he lowered it just a bit. The security forces here knew the battle was over, they had just been forced to keep fighting. "But you don't care."

Dorian stumbled to his feet, crimson dripping from his hand. He was snarling, trying to come up with some way to fight back, to go out with a bang… but there was going to be no glorious end for him. Her right forearm shimmered with energy gathered in the armor, channeling towards the small cannon atop her wrist. Dorian reached for something on his belt, but before he could even grab it she snapped her right arm up, unleashing a blast of bright blue energy. It nailed him in the forehead with enough force that he went slamming backwards to the ground, but once more there was no satisfaction. Not even looking at the body she turned to the hesitant guard who had decided to surrender instead of fighting, nodding curtly. "Radio to base. It's over. Commander Dorian is dead. It'll be best if the Amaranthine forces simply surrender."

He nodded, setting down his firearm and following her orders. Now she looked around at the bodies that littered the ground of the quarry, casualties of a long war for independence from the cruelty of the Raynor Corporation. This was a sight being played out countless times, and it wouldn't stop anytime soon. The Confederation wasn't as ideal as she first thought, and her loyalty to them had led to this. She began to trudge to the top of the quarry, walking past soldiers who had surrendered and celebrating rebels who finally won such a grueling campaign. It would be easier to just fly to the top, but she preferred the long way. It gave her time to think, to reflect on everything. But it wasn't the revenge that she had taken on Dorian for the death of a young teenager over a year ago that stood at the forefront of her mind. It was a simple conversation with Allen Quinn that she recalled, riding to the airbase earlier that day.

"They call you Stormblade, yeah?"

"What of it?"

"Just, well, doesn't sound like a real name to me. Not the one a sane parent would give their kid and all. Who are you, really?"

"Doesn't matter."

"You say that. All that armor and high-tech weaponry makes you look like some, well, cyborg weapon or something. Beneath it all? You're still a person. Still human. Why're you running from that?"

She reached the top of the incline, looking up to the cowardly Irishman that often served as her driver on Amaranthine during this campaign. That was what he had bugged her about, her real name that just didn't seem important anymore. "What you asked before? It's Lexine. Lexine Steiner."

Allen blinked a bit at her, simply staring as he watched her walk past. He knew exactly what conversation he was talking about, mostly because he had pestered her so much she actually threatened him if he didn't shut up. A small smile crossed his face despite the weariness present. "Thanks. And you're not a weapon, yeah? You're a person. Remember that. And hey, always welcome to Amaranthine now, I think. You're a hero."

A hero. That was a word she wouldn't have used to describe herself. She had told herself Lexine Steiner was no more. She was Stormblade, a project, a weapon… but now she was considered a person by one, a hero to some.

It wasn't over yet, though. Revenge was self-destructive, she knew that fact well. But there was no other alternative, not yet. The people who had dehumanized her, tried to turn her into a weapon, were still out there. And Lexine Steiner was going to find them.