"Stay low and follow this trail."
In front of them there was a wall, or what was left of it. It was no higher than a few centimetres. From what Vindril understood, they had to hide behind that in order to reach a small, unassuming little building.
"Make sure to stay hidden." then they turned around to look at him. "Do…not…screw up. If we get caught, we'll end up in a lot of troubles."
Vindril looked like they've just insulted him in the worst manner possible. Screw it up? Hell no. How could that person even think about something so far from his capabilities? But he also guessed that being strangers certainly didn't help in understanding each other's strengths. Problem was, that person certainly didn't look interested in clearing any of that. He shrugged. They still had many weeks ahead of them for that to happen. If, and it was a gigantic if, they didn't screw up that whole "snuffing around the complex without getting caught" thing. Better stay focused.
By crouching down, almost crawling from how close they were to the dusty ground beneath their feet, they began walking towards the other end of the wall, that was in close proximity to an unassuming building. Even in the darkness they were in, its shape and general appearance didn't stand out among the other around the complex. Vindril was clearly confused. What could have been in there that was so important as to risk everything? He had no clue. And maybe he didn't even to find out. The potential pay the Empire was going to kindly give to him after the team had completed that dangerous mission in hostile territory was something he didn't want to pass out. He wasn't broke, but he also didn't know if the sum he had raised was going to be enough to restore his future ship. Not to mention he didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do if that thing would ever go tits up.
His thoughts were interrupted by some movement in front of him. Vindril had to concentrate, squinting his eyes to augment his vision, in order to understand what was going on. The mysterious person was holding his left hand up; and if Vindril wasn't wrong, he was holding a knife in the other. At the sight of that, his instinct kicked in, and without missing a beat, he grabbed and pulled out the small knife he always hid in a concealed pocket of his trousers. It wasn't anything like the dagger he carried around strapped around his waist, but it still was a lifesaver when Mary, his trustworthy gun, had ran out of thermal clips.
"What's-" tried to ask Vindril in whisper of a voice. But the person quickly shut him up with a violent shake of his hand.
Before Vindril had the chance to ask again, they raised their left arm, closing the hand into a fist pointed upwards. Then they turned around and signalled him to stay silent in the universal hand sign of pressing the index finger pointed towards the sky over the lips. Or where there would have been lips, given the helmet that was covering their face.
Vindril nodded. He was trying to appear competent and ready to face anything; but to be blatantly honest, he didn't understand what the first sign was all about. Was he supposed to do something? Did he have to face…whatever the hell was coming towards them alone? Was the person signalling that he shouldn't use lethal force? He had no clue. So he simply decided to mimic anything that walking armor would do and hope for the best.
How was it that things always managed to complicate themselves?
Some seconds later, even though it had actually felt like whole hours to him, a couple of men, cladded from head to toes in the very distinctive Empire uniforms, appeared out of nowhere. In their arms they were carrying a couple of rifles (Vindril couldn't make out the exact model) and so much thermal clips and grenades that they could have levelled a whole building to the ground in a heartbeat. Fortunately, it seemed like they had not noticed them. Yet.
As the person in front of him pressed the back against the wall, Vindril did the same, tightening his grip on the pocket knife he was holding. If those damned guards, with their damned weapons that could have filled that old, time-worn wall with bullet holes from side to side, had spotted them, they would surely have been dead. He had to do something before it was too late. There was no way he was going to die on that rock of a planet now that he was so close to achieving his dream. No chance in hell.
He was ready to pounce on them like a predator. Ready to hit the nearest enemy, which was just a few paces away, in the small crack that the armor offered between the helmet and the body. Ready to push the cold blade, lacerating the flesh until the jugular came undone. He just had to wait for them to take a couple step forward and then-
A hand grabbed his wrist, squeezing it. It was the person in front of him. They pushed him against the wall, shaking his armoured head back and forth. Vindril looked at himself confused. Why the hell were they stopping him? It was the best time to spring into action! He tried to break free from that hold, but it was all in vain. The guards had gotten away.
"Are fucking nuts?!" they asked silently shouting. "What the hell were you trying to do? Kill them?"
"Well, yes."
"…"
"What? Why are you-"
"Try to act like that again." the person said coldly. "And the guards will be the last of your problems. I'm not going to risk my neck just because you're a damned idiot who evidently is in a hurry to die. You've been warned…"
Vindril smiled. Fortunately that person had already turned their back on him, or he would have surely found himself on the receiving end of an armoured punch. And he certainly didn't fancy trying that. Still, he had to marvel at how talkative that person was when they became agitated.
Anyway, it was time to press on.
//////
After waiting for the guards to complete their patrols, Vindril and the mysterious person ventured forward, reaching their destination. Or at least, near it. If they had just ignored their better judgements and simply…walked the last steps that separated them from the entrance, they would have surely found themselves in deep, deep troubles.
First of all, while there were no guards to be seen, no matter how strange that was, it was not like the place wasn't tightly secured by other safety measure. A rapid glance around the building quickly revealed security cameras mounted all around the corners, always maintaining a watchful eye on the perimeter; a bunch of sensors were also mounted on the nearby column, so it seemed almost impossible to enter in there without alerting whoever was in command.
Vindril groaned. How the hell were they supposed to cross all that? Was that even possible? No matter how much he tried to come up with a viable solution, the odds this time seemed to be far too against the player. Turning around at that point seemed to be the best solution.
However, that person didn't seem to share that sentiment. Vindril could tell by the way their head had not move a single inch since they had reached that point. He considered speaking up, but with how that last interaction had gone, he quickly reconsidered. Instead, he opted to observe them silently.
Without uttering a word, that person quickly began rummaging through his pockets. A small device, no bigger than a nail, was now resting in their hand, waiting to be activated.
Vindril had some hypothesis of what that could be. Judging by the whole size of it, and the small intricate work that had been done on its surface, it was possible that thing was just an ornament. He had heard that some people carried with them such useless objects, but that person certainly didn't fit into the mental image he had of those people; so he discarded that nonsense. But if that wasn't the case, than that little object must have been some kind of technological tool that might-
A very silent, barely audible hum, interrupted his thinking. That person had pressed a small button that was on the side of it, making a red light appear on its surface.
"It's a signal disruptor." stated the person as it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Come. We only have a few moments to turn off those sensors."
"But…what about the cameras? Won't the notice us?"
"Not if you follow me." they said. "There is a small window of opportunity in which we can approach the power grid of those sensors without getting noticed. But only if we move now."
"And where exactly-"
The person huffed annoyed. Then they turned around, waited for the cameras to point in an exact direction, and zigzagged nimbly toward the power grid. Vindril was amazed by such a display of agility. While he realized that the armor they were wearing was not the heaviest set available on the market, he deemed it heavy enough to hinder movements, however slight.
"Well?" asked that person, who had just reached the power grid. "What are you waiting for?"
Vindril stared at them for a few seconds, trying to decide what to do. Should he just follow behind that stranger and hope for the best? While it was true that person looked and acted like a professional used to those kinds of things, it was also true that they were stranger to him, even if they sort of shared a common objective. And if Vindril had learned one thing during his travels across the galaxy, was to be wary of strangers. Nobody, was to be taken at face value. Nobody
He shrugged his shoulders. What was the point of waiting there, right in open field, where the guards could potentially spot him? He adjusted his trousers and set out, trying his best to mimic almost verbatim the exact movements he had just seen. Which proved to be almost a challenge. But, eventually, he reached that person near the power grid without screwing up. He had to be relieved at that small accomplishment, however little that was.
However, that relief was short lived. As he glanced down towards that person, who was currently working on a tangle of wires that looked utterly madness, with their many colours twisted, intertwined together, a sense of dread almost filled him up to the brim. The knowledge he had accumulated working on electronics was literally screaming at him, telling him how dangerous and stupid it was to tangle with that mess. One wrong move, and the entire complex would be alerted that something was going on. Not to mention the inherent dangers of electricity. Messing with the wrong cable was like messing with an armed man. It could potentially end bad. Very bad.
He crouched down right next to them, silently observing their hands move abnormally well. He had expected to see some sort of trouble; after all, armoured hands like those weren't easy to manoeuvre, especially when doing such a meticulous job. But, against all odds, that person looked completely unfazed and utterly in control. Honestly, it was almost a marvel how calm and composed that person looked.
"…Need something?" asked the person without looking at him, or stopping their hands from working nimbly.
"No."
An awkward silence fell on them, interrupted only by the sound of wind that was blowing by. "…Then get up. You're making me deconcentrate."
"…second row of wires. Cut the third one."
This time, that person turned around to look at him. Vindril would have liked to see that person's surprised face, but the helmet made it impossible. He supposed making them stop had to be enough of a satisfaction for now.
"…Why?"
"Because that's the correct one."
"…"
Instead of replying, that person simply ignored him and went straight back into working his way around that wire mess. But Vindril wasn't going to let him be ignored. Especially by an unknown person who was hiding his identity behind a metal helmet. So he simply grabbed that wire and snapped it in two before that person could have stopped him.
To say that person was emitting a murderous aura was putting it lightly. Their whole-body language clearly spoke about violence; a violence that was directed directly at Vindril. Fortunately, it seemed luck was on his side. The little light that was coming from the tiny lightbulb mounted in there, slowly dimmed itself out.
Vindril had no doubt now. The sensor were taken care of. But now he had to deal with an angry companion. A fully armed, potentially deadly, companion. Good thing he had a silver tongue. Now he was going to need more than ever.