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Competition
[GJW XVII Phase I] Fiction - Multiprompt: Due Day
Textual submission

Elizabeth-II sat in Nei'kapo's shadow making the ambient temperature even colder than normal. The freezing air felt like it was cutting right through Garret Thorne's armor plates. The mercenary crouched beside a ventilation intake, checking his equipment one last time. In front of him, the massive warrior development foundry hummed with power.

Garret pressed a button on his gauntlet. A swarm of tiny, spherical droids floated up from his back, drifting into the dark like a cloud of dust.

"Spread out," Garret muttered. "Keep the sensors off my back."

The droids drifted off as if caught by a breeze, sending updates back to the display on his visor. All clear, for now.

Garret tapped the armor covering the starburst scar on his neck. The anticipation of action always made it itch. Happy with his gear, and the itch subsiding, he checked the mission brief one last time. The Brotherhood was paying him a lot of credits to blow this place up. He had no particular akk dog in this war, but the free flow of credits set the Collective squarely in his sights.

Getting into the facility was easy. The Collective was focused on the battle in orbit and assumed no one would have made it to the moon's surface yet. Garret had slipped through the ventilation system, down a ladder, and onto a catwalk without even seeing anything resembling guards.

Two cybernetic guards walked below him. Both of them had glowing blue neural jacks at the back of their necks, signalling that they were linked to an AI system.

'Two bodies, one brain. Half the thinking.' Garret thought to himself with a smirk. He dropped off the catwalk as they passed underneath.

He landed hard on one guard, grabbing its neck and twisting it until it cracked. The other guard turned, lifting his rifle. Garret reacted quickly and kicked the guard hard in the groin. His steel-toed boot hit hard, and the cyborg doubled over. Garret drew his heavy blaster pistol and shot the guard under the chin.

"Still human where it counts," Garret said to himself as he dragged the bodies out of sight.

He ran to the main room, moving surprisingly quietly despite his heavy armor and gear. It was huge, full of vats of green fluid where recruits floated and limbs were replaced. The room smelled like burnt skin and grease.

Garret slipped the explosives kit off his back and retrieved several denton charges. He set them on several of the vats and also what intel had indicated were coolant pipes.

As he looked around to check that all of the charges were primed, an alarm went off. Red lights flashed, giving the room an even more sinister vibe than it already had.

"Intruder in Sector Four," a synthetic voice announced with an eerily calm tone.

Durasteel blast doors began closing to seal the room and three guards ran onto a balcony above. They opened fire on him without thought for the collateral damage a stray shot might cause.

Garret dived for cover and shouldered his heavy blaster rifle. He looked out from behind his cover and shot back at the guards, hitting one of them in his robotic arm. The arm went limp and the guard dropped his weapon.

The other two guards jumped down with riot control batons at the ready. One lunged, but Garret dropped his rifle and stepped into the cyborg's attack and stabbed it in the throat with his beskar dagger.

The other guard landed a hit on Garret's shoulder with his baton. The cortosis weave in the mercenary's armor sparked and the baton's pulse generator went silent.

"Oops," Garret said as he punched the guard in the face, denting the helmet and shattering the visor. The guard struggled to remove the damaged helmet, but Garret was already on the move.

Garret ran for one of the closing doors, sliding underneath just in time. He scrambled up and out of the building. He continued running to get some distance before he turned to watch as he pressed the remote detonator. A huge ball of fire shot into the sky, then what remained of the foundry collapsed in on itself.

The mercenary tapped his radio. "Shuttle time. And tell them that they owe me a new rifle on top of my fee."

Competition
[GJW XVII Phase I] Fiction - Multiprompt: Due Day
File submission
GJWXVI P1 Fiction - Prompt 3 - No Survivors(2).pdf
Textual submission

Choosing All Hands selection

Competition
[GJW XVII Phase I] Fiction - Multiprompt: Due Day
Textual submission

[Foothold]

Alarms blared in increasing volume with Vreva's return to consciousness. She felt hot blood drip down the back of her neck and clutched at a sharp pain hidden among her dark braids. Though a sharp whine of tinnitus drowned out most else, she vaguely heard Paumgon's low tone urging her to move. Move.

Move!

The Zabrak jolted upright and fumbled for the harness keeping her strapped to the pilot's seat of the Revenant. The Ghtroc Light Freighter was on fire. Smoke stung her eyes, and the scent of something particularly electric caught her nostrils. "Where are-?" she managed, before the Herglic's heavy hand brought her head down.

Slugs pierced the windshield and tore apart the seat where her head had rested moments before. Vreva ducked low and allowed Paumgon to drag her from the chair to the floor. Her rifle was thrust into her hands once she managed to pull herself up into a low crouch, and she slung the weapon over her shoulder. Instinct and adrenaline compelled her limbs to propel her forward after her companion.

The others - Luka, Diyrian, Alex, Sprocket - were nowhere in the cockpit. Whether they had gone on to continue the mission or were laying in the cargo hold dead, she did not know. She would ask Paumgon later. For now, she had to keep her own hide.

Most of the hull was still intact, and none of the Collective soldiers had yet to board the ship. Though she knew it was only a matter of time before they flooded the crash site. The sound of their footfalls surrounded the wreckage of the Ghtroc.

"How many outside?" She shouted over the sound of the alarm.

Paumgon gave her a stoic look that told her all she needed to know. Vreva loaded her rifle.

"Hold 'em here or rush 'em?"

"After you." The Herglic tossed out his Portable Wall. Hopefully the energy field would disperse any blaster fire from the Collective's droids, but it would be useless against the slugs.

"Ladies first, right?" Vreva gave a crooked smile before drawing her blade.

A *harumph* of mirth from him. "Ladies first."

Collective soldiers, connected through their wireless network, stopped in unison at their company leader's order. Their weapons were trained on the hull of the ship as each watched for movement within the smoke. A shout near the landing bridge brought their attention, each turning to witness a splash of blood and black ichor spray from a fatal wound as Vreva cut the first soldier's throat. As he fell, she moved to the next in a wild frenzy. She was not alone. Soldiers scattered as blaster fire from an MWC-35c Repeating Cannon covered her charge.

"Focus the gunner!" shouted the Collective company leader, pointing at the Herglic. Vreva turned her ire upon him. Red encircled her golden irises as she roared her challenge, rushing him with little care for the few blaster bolts that singed her skin. She launched herself at the man, her first thrust jarring against his armor, though the second found space between plates. Though she was too far gone into her rage to hear him, the blood he coughed up that splattered the inside of his helmet was enough for her to move on to the next opponent.