The central quadrant was a sprawling urban wasteland, once a prosperous district now reduced to shattered buildings and crumbling streets. The air was thick with the pungent smell of burned debris and the stench of decay, a battlefield ripe for guerrilla warfare. Kaelion's squad, bloodied but resolute, moved through the ruins with grim precision, the weight of their mission hanging heavily on their shoulders.
As they moved deeper into the heart of the quadrant, the atmosphere grew tense. The rebels had been known for their cunning, using the urban environment to their advantage. The scattered movements of shadows against broken walls made Kaelion's senses sharp as he scanned the area, the quiet hum of his exosuit serving as a constant reminder that they were deep in hostile territory.
Lyneth and Deccan moved ahead, the other regulars flanking them in a loose formation. The constant clicking of their boots echoed off the shattered concrete as they approached an old industrial complex—the rebel stronghold. Kaelion's orders had been clear: eradicate the enemy, leave no trace. The familiar, cold efficiency of war filled him as he prepared for what was to come.
"I'll go first," Kaelion muttered to Deccan, who nodded in agreement, his expression hardened by the weight of the mission.
The squad approached the complex's entrance, a dilapidated set of double doors that had been ripped off their hinges long ago. Inside, Kaelion could see the faint movement of rebels through the cracked windows, their rifles ready, waiting for the strike. Without hesitation, Kaelion raised his weapon, a plasma rifle, and signaled for the squad to advance.
The moment they breached the doors, chaos erupted. Rebels poured from the shadows, firing their energy rifles, their shots blazing in the dim light. Kaelion moved with lethal precision, his rifle snapping to his shoulder as he unleashed a deadly hail of plasma fire. His squad followed suit, their weapons singing as they cut down the rebels one by one.
The sounds of battle were deafening, but Kaelion remained calm, his mind calculating every move. He knew the rebels were desperate; they knew the Empire would crush them, but they fought with a tenacity borne of desperation. As the last rebel fell, Kaelion's heart sank as he surveyed the battlefield—too many dead.
The bodies of Celestian Regulars lay scattered across the complex, their lifeless forms a grim reminder of the mission's cost. Only five of them remained—Kaelion, Lyneth, Deccan, and two other regulars. The air was thick with the smell of burnt ozone and blood, and Kaelion's gaze lingered on the fallen soldiers. Every death weighed heavily on him, but he couldn't afford to grieve now.
"Regroup," Kaelion ordered coldly, his voice steady despite the heaviness in his chest. "Prepare for extraction."
But before they could even begin to organize, a low, guttural growl reverberated through the walls, sending a shiver down Kaelion's spine. He turned just in time to see movement in the shadows—five figures emerging from the darkness. They were grotesque, their forms twisted and nightmarish, with elongated limbs and jagged teeth that seemed to gleam in the dim light. Their eyes burned with a primal hunger, and their bloodshot gaze locked onto the squad.
Kaelion's breath caught in his throat. He knew these creatures. They were a species from another planet—ferocious, unstoppable killing machines known as the Montrois. They were merciless, their thirst for blood insatiable. Kaelion had studied their anatomy, their behavior—there was no way these monsters should have been on this planet. No way they could have respawned here, accidentally or otherwise.
"They're not supposed to be here," Kaelion muttered under his breath, his pulse quickening as he calculated their chances.
The Montrois attacked without warning, charging at the squad with inhuman speed. Their claws slashed through armor and flesh, and their monstrous jaws clamped down with deadly force. Kaelion barely managed to dodge one of the creatures, his exosuit's enhanced reflexes saving him from a deadly blow. The rest of his squad wasn't so lucky.
Deccan screamed as one of the Montrois tore through his armor, raking its claws down his right shoulder. The regulars who had followed Kaelion into battle were butchered in mere seconds. Their screams echoed through the complex, quickly silenced by the savage beasts. Only Kaelion, Lyneth, and Deccan remained—bloodied and broken, but alive.
Lyneth was on the ground, struggling to keep her breath as one of the Montrois loomed over her. Her chest was cut open, a deep gash that sent blood spilling from her body. Deccan, panicked but determined, dragged her to safety, his face a mask of fear and disbelief. Kaelion moved with lethal efficiency, cutting down one of the creatures with a brutal strike, his plasma rifle disintegrating the monster's skull in a burst of energy.
But they were still outnumbered. Another Montrois lunged at Kaelion, and he was forced to engage in a brutal, hand-to-hand battle with the creature. His fists collided with its hideous form, each blow carrying the weight of his fury. He could feel the creature's bone-shattering strength, but his training and sheer determination kept him going. With a final, savage punch, Kaelion drove his fist into the creature's chest, crushing its heart.
"Is everyone…" Kaelion began, but his words were cut short by the sound of Deccan's voice, hoarse and panicked.
"We're the only ones left…" Deccan said, his eyes wide with terror. "They're all dead…"
Kaelion glanced over at Lyneth, her eyes closed in unconsciousness. Her breathing was shallow, but she was still alive. He could feel the weight of the mission on his shoulders, but there was no time to mourn. They needed to return to the base, and they needed to do it fast.
The remaining three—Kaelion, Deccan, and Lyneth—made their way back to the base, Deccan carrying Lyneth on his back. The return trip was slow, their progress hindered by both the injuries they had sustained and the shock of what had happened. Kaelion's mind raced as he tried to piece together the situation. This wasn't just a random attack. The Montrois didn't spawn on this planet by chance.
When they finally returned to the Celestian Vanguard Base, Kaelion wasted no time. He headed straight for the Command Chamber, where Xerith awaited him. The Captain looked up from his console as Kaelion entered, his expression unreadable.
"Veteran Voss," Xerith said, his voice neutral. "I trust your mission was successful?"
Kaelion's eyes narrowed. He knew Xerith had to have known about the ambush. The Montrois were too dangerous, too strategic for this to be an accident. He couldn't shake the feeling that this had been orchestrated—set up. He could almost hear Xerith's voice, smooth and calculated, telling him exactly what he needed to hear to keep him in line. But Kaelion wasn't fooled. He had been played.
"Successful?" Kaelion repeated, his tone flat. "We were ambushed by Montrois. Only three of us survived. The rest of the squad is dead."
Xerith's eyes flickered with a brief flash of something—surprise, perhaps, but only for a moment. He recovered quickly, his smirk reappearing. "It seems the rebels had a backup plan. How fortunate you were able to survive such a challenge."
"Fortunate?" Kaelion's voice was ice-cold. "This was no accident. I know the Montrois. They don't just appear on this planet."
Xerith raised an eyebrow. "You're suggesting someone orchestrated the attack?"
Kaelion didn't say anything at first. His mind was sharp, and his instincts told him the truth, even if Xerith didn't want to acknowledge it. Kaelion had no illusions. The mission had been a test, one designed to push him to the brink. And someone had made sure he wont survived.
"I know the Empire has protocols for loyalty," Kaelion said, his gaze unwavering. "The Secret Loyalty Path. But this wasn't a test of loyalty, Xerith. This was a trap."
Xerith's expression shifted, just slightly, but it was enough for Kaelion to see the truth in his eyes. He had been set up. And now, Kaelion knew what he had to do.
"I want a promotion," Kaelion said, his voice firm. "I want to be promoted in the ranks of Captain of Celestian Vanguard."
Xerith's smirk faltered, replaced by a look of surprise. "You… you're serious?"
"I'm not a player who accepts trolling," Kaelion said, his words clipped. "I will take the trial when I'm done with you."
Xerith's eyes narrowed, his tone turning serious. "What are you planning, Kaelion? also what's a trolling?"
Kaelion didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned and walked out of the Command Chamber, leaving Xerith to ponder his next move. Kaelion had already made up his mind. This was just the beginning, and he would make sure the Empire knew exactly what kind of man he is.