Intro 5: Friends in Need

2481 C.E.
CARRIER "ENTEOS"
UMOJAN EXPEDITIONARY FLEET
HIGH ORBIT OF MALTAIR VI
The new fleet was ready for its first assignment. They were now in a very high orbit above the planet Maltair VI, where the two professors were kept and where the soldiers in the fleet would get to see action for the first time.
The plan was simple and relied on brute force to take control over the prison and get the two people out. By a suggestion of Paskirov, the fleet would not identify themselves as Umojans, nor would they free only the two professors, so as to not arouse any suspicions in the Confederates. The huge ships could always just blast the prison to molten shreds, but that put the lives of the VIP's into unnecessary risk and was decided to be employed as a final measure. Until then, the ground forces were the main actors. This was good for Paskirov, because it gave him and his friend a chance to shine. He wondered how high in Umojan ranking did the abilities of a Confederate lieutenant lie.
The fleet spent a day on reconnaissance and preparations. The prison was a square building with an inner yard. It was several hundred meters wide, although the fenced land around it made its territory several square kilometers. It was located in a field surrounded by low mountains, which made a day attack inconvenient. The ground force was to strike at night and Paskirov decided to only employ the first company, plus some of the ghosts. They would assist with covering fire from a distance and could perhaps even use some of the four watchtowers if needed be.
There was no certainty where the command center exactly was and that posed difficulties. Above the ground, the building looked the same from all sides, so either the important rooms were hidden well, or they were underground. Therefore, he decided to get Chester and other hackers that could possibly get into the network and gain control of any desired doors.
The first company and parts of the fifth company, the ghosts, were ready and located two kilometers away from the prison. Second company and the armored company were stationed nearby as reserves, ready to board the dropships. Williams was with his men, ready for battle. Paskirov decided to join the fight, albeit staying in the back lines, in order to inspire his men. He had a computer and several operators that would coordinate the different platoons and his idea of spending the rest of the battle was in a safe room at the periphery of the fighting, on the side of the Umojans.
The building was a square when looked from above, so the assaulting force would use letters to designate the main points. The southern side, from which the troops were approaching, had tower AA and BB on its west and east sides respectively. The center of the wing between them, regardless of floor, was checkpoint AB. Similarly, the west wing's middle was checkpoint AD and the northwest tower was DD. In the middle between DD and the northeastern tower, CC, there was checkpoint CD, and so on. The point of entry – the doors that would be blasted – were, therefore, AB, first floor.
When the light was gone, the troops were at the ready. The dropships were arranged in one long line and the platoons for each one were standing in front of them. Marines were formed in lines, their bulky armor suits with erased insignia illuminated by the lights of the dropships that pierced the windy night. Everybody was steady as Paskirov was making his final walk alongside the groups. He observed his men as he moved past them, throwing an occasional line of encouragement in order to disperse their worries. The Umojans did not use re-socialization like the Confederates did and as a result the troops' efficiency was more dependent on mood swings.
'Ready for action, private? Don't worry, the enemy will never know what hit them.,' or 'Cheer up, boy, the Confederates may be an unpleasant folk, but there's also unpleasant folk at the pubs and they get kicked out, remember?'
When finishing his tour by the last ship, he turned to the accompanying officer.
'Seargant Major, the liftoff may proceed. Good luck.'
'Sir, yes, sir, may it happen.'
Paskirov went inside his commanding vessel. The "system crack team" of Umojans and their bodyguards were already inside. They would attempt to override as much as possible from the prison networks and assist the soldiers in the corridors. He went to his seat, looking at one of the team members checking the radio he was carrying. The dropship took off.
The night was moonless. The dropships approached the prison flying low above the dirt of the wide field. Their dark silhouettes were difficult to make out, making the ships soar through the field like phantoms.
Along the dropships flew five wraiths. They carried an innovation suggested by Boris, a Confederate idea that was used to provide tactical advantage. This innovation, which impressed McNorman, were smoke missiles, which would conceal the movement of the infantry as it was coming at the walls. The Umojans had to improvise quickly to make such ammo on time for the attack, but the scientists present there made it possible. When the aerial transports were at the needed distance, the wraiths aimed at the ground close to the walls, fired the special projectiles and made a sharp turn upwards and backwards to the rest of the fleet.
As the dropships were approaching the prison, the troops were preparing to jump out. Five hundred meters from the walls of the facility, the dropships quickly landed in a curved line formation. In the dark, the marines ran out of the darkened compartments and onto the field. Boris jumped out after his bodyguards, followed by the scientists, and looked at his long line of men, assembling to storm the prison. From behind their main line, he gave an order for the platoons to spread out wide and move towards the main gate.
The large building was hidden behind the tall wall of smoke between it and the Umojans. Previous observations had spotted some lit windows, and Boris now thought how many more would awake, not knowing what to expect from behind the smoke barrier. The guards had to be alerted by now and he felt regret that he didnt't think of making a wider smoke barrier, which would deceive them even better.
The troops were now just behind the smoke, waiting for the demolitions team to blast the front door. By order of Paskirov, one of the platoons opened fire against the supposed enemy guards on the walls. Under the cover of their suppressive fire, the engineers rushed to the door, quickly ran back and made the sign to brace up. Paskirov covered his ears and a second later a great blast blew out some of the smoke in front of the door and revealed the scorched opening of the prison.
'Go, go, go! First platoon!' he shouted over the radio as the first platoon ran inside and headed to find the corridor to the left side.
The
'Second platoon, move in!' he ordered, waving his hand, and another group of heavily armored marines rushed in through the opening and headed to the third floor.
A few moments later, shooting began. Over the radio, Boris could hear that the first platoon had contact with the enemy.
'There!'
'Mine, sir!'
'Easy!'
'Colonel, this is platoon leader Jones, the enemy is lightly armed and we are proceeding on. Over.'
'Sounds good,' Chester mentioned, next to him.
'There's more time for something to go wrong,' Paskirov replied quietly and ordered the third platoon to get in and look for any command rooms on the second floor, in the direction of AA, above the route of the first platoon.
As he did, a bullet whistled nearby. One of the scientists screamed in fear.
'Enemy fire!' Williams shouted on the radio.
'Damn! The smoke is getting useless. Suppressive fire!' Boris ordered fourth and fifth platoons. 'Williams, I'm going in, where its safe. You follow. Go to the right and establish a defensive perimeter to the right. No Confederate is to move from the right to the left side of this wing of the building, am I clear? All levels of this checkpoint, AB. Fifth platoon, enter fifteen seconds after fourth platoon and establish a defensive perimeter at this entrance. Go, go, go!'
He rushed in, running the worst ten meters of his life at the exposed stretch between the building and the dissipating smoke. Huge prison illuminators from the tops of the four towers were now anxiously scanning the surroundings of the prison for more enemies. Enemy snipers from the two towers at the ends of this wing, AA and BB began opening fire at the entering scientists.
'Run in zigzag, you will be hit harder!' He shouted to whoever could hear him, realizing the nonsense he was saying in the chaotic situation.
He quickly jumped in the sooty entrance that the blast had opened. The neosteel floor of where the gate used to be was now in the shape of a crater and the smell of unknown chemicals at the site made Boris sick. The explosion had taken away some of the concrete at the entrance and metal rods stuck out from the concrete, black from the soot. He saw his group run to him and when they were all here, in the front wing of the prison, they headed leftwards to the illuminated corridor, whose door was, too, downed by either the explosion or some of the soldiers.
They entered, looking for a console or a terminal of any sort that could allow access to the systems. The corridor was long and gloomy, wide enough for four or five people. The walls were painted yellow in their lower half and there were several smashed doors. There were stairs leading upwards nearby. As the fourth and fifth platoon entered behind them, the group went through these rooms, but found only old maintenance machinery. There were cleaners and tools and junk, but no cables to anything more sophisticated.
The group proceeded out of the corridor and into a huge hall that had to be technically one of the floors of the tower. In the far end, there was another double door, probably to the next wing, and to the right of them were some computers and in the middle, there were empty tables.
'See what you can do,' he ordered the scientists, pointing at the computers, when he heard a transmission on the radio.
'Black one, this is platoon three, we've found a computer, repeat, we've found a computer. It's a console. We are on the second floor, just exited the front wing and in the right wing. This is also a section with inmates. Over.'
Boris smiled.
'Chester, hear that? Let's go,' he said, leaving two scientists and a marine to guard them behind.
The group moved forward, listening to the reports from the rest of the platoons.
The fifth one was doing easy, with the door being secure. Williams' had no problems either. They were on all four floors of the facility just next to checkpoint AB, ready to halt anyone who wanted to move to Paskirov's side of the wing. Platoon one was moving clockwise through the first floor. Platoon three was doing the same thing one floor above, taking out any resistance on the way. Everything was going as planned.
Paksirov's leading platoon climbed the stairs near checkpoint AD and entered the second floor. There, in the span of the corridor to the familiar southwest tower, they saw many heavy doors with small, dimmed windows and small openings. These were the inmates' cells. The group went to the other side of the stairway, where platoon two had reported the computer and saw a room whose wooden door was open. In it, there were desks and bookcases with paperwork, as well as a table with a computer.
'Alright, boys, it's all yours,' Boris told the hackers.
They began their work. In the meantime, the young colonel kept an eye on the radio transmissions. Around Williams, where fourth and fifth platoon were, there was an eerie calm. First platoon was already at DD and fighting some of the guards that had fortified that part of the tower. Second platoon was moving steadily through the third floor, having passed tower AA and checkpoint AD. Third platoon was engaged in combat with the enemy at the entrance to the second floor of DD, approximately above first platoon downstairs. Boris saw an opportunity.
'Third platoon, this is black one. Clear DD third floor and move to first floor via the stairs at checkpoint CD, then engage the enemy positions at DD second floor from the east, do you copy?'
'Roger that,' a voice responded.
If this maneuver succeeded, the enemy at the second floor would be surrounded and captured. Then, they could interrogate some of the Confederates and find out more about the facility. He turned to the Umojans. The soldiers were at the door and in the corridor. Chester was skimming through the papers.
'Did you guys gain access?' Boris asked.
'Only to part of the network, sir. We have a map of the facility. You might want to look – there are rooms underground.'
'What about them?'
'As far as we can tell, there is ammo and armored suits down there. Their arsenal, basically.'
'How do you get there?' he immediately asked.
'There is one entrance, here on the first floor. At least this is what the map shows,' the brown-skinned Umojan replied.
'Right. That's between CC and checkpoint CD. Any other important places? Let me see the map,' Boris said and looked at the 3D scheme of the compound on the screen.
Aside from the basement, there was nothing unusual in terms of architecture. He looked for any unusual room positions and on the fourth floor, between checkpoint CD and the northeast tower, there were huge rooms instead of the normal cells on both sides of the corridor.
'Can you tell me what that is?' he pointed that to the computer specialist on his right.
'Let's see, sir... It is designated as administrative compartments, that's all I can tell you from the info in these lists...'
'Excellent! This could be it!' Paskirov said happily and went over to the radio. 'All platoons, this is Black one, report in. Over.'
'Black one, this is platoon one. We have engaged the enemy at DD. Sustaining little or no casualties, but advance is impossible, over.'
'Black one, this is platoon two. We are moving from DD third floor towards CC third floor. We have found a console at DD third floor. Over.'
'Black one, this is platoon three. We are at the second floor checkpoint CD and we are facing resistance. We are preparing to storm the stairs and clear our way to the second floor DD, over.'
'Black one, this is platoon four, no enemy dares display courage in our area,' Williams noted coldly, making the colonel on the other side of the connection smile.
'Black one, this is platoon five, we are at the doors, no hostiles in sight, over.'
All good, Boris thought to himself. Although, there could be problems with platoon three. The enemy resistance could mean that the guards were getting the good armament at this very moment. It was time to make things go faster.
'Platoon two, this is Black one. Move to the fourth floor and investigate the area between checkpoing CD and tower CC. And report back. Over.'
'Copy that, Black one, we are moving on. Over,' the platoon leader replied.
'Williams, this is Black one,' Boris began issuing platoon four an order, 'get your men to move to BB, then to checkpoint CB. I want you to scan the four floors for any enemy, don't assemble together. You can stop if you see anybody... You can't kill. Move on until you get to checkpoint CB, then assemble on the first floor and move to checkpoint CD. Do you copy? Over.'
'Glad to find some targets, colonel. Over,' the ghost replied on the radio.
It was time to find out what the personnel of this prison were doing in the east wing. Then, while platoon one and three were engaged with the enemy on the first floor of the northwest corner, the leader's platoon would go for the database.
'Alright, people, we're heading to checkpoint CD, fourth floor. Keep your eyes open.'
***
Williams was moving with the group of four marines through the corridor on the second floor. They were walking forward carefully, wary of any Confederate guard that could jump out from any corner, or from an ambush by enemy hidden in the cells. Williams was holding his Canister rifle against his shoulder, aiming forward at any possible enemy. The groups above them, on the third and fourth floor, saw nothing, and only the squad below had taken down one guard. The area between checkpoint AB and the southeastern tower was clear and the section between the southeastern tower and checkpoint BC seemed clear as well.
As they were walking, Williams felt something unusual. As he was moving past one of the heavy steel doors, he suddenly heard a whisper. What made him stop in his position was not only the fact that there was nobody who could whisper, but also that it was in his mind. The sounds were in his head, and despite that they were not words, it felt as if there were Protoss nearby.
The soldier behind him looked in curiosity.
'Are you alright, sir?'
Williams was still staring at the door, filled with doubts.
'Open the door,' he ordered.
Two of the marines approached the door and put the small personal explosives they carried on the door. As the group stood back Williams thought to whoever was on the other side.
'We're coming through, brace up.'
The door was blasted and Williams walked in through the smoke. The cell was small and equipped with only the most necessary things. On the bed at the other end sat a woman. Williams' pupils dilated with the thought that she must also be a ghost. The woman was looking at him with suspicious eyes.
'Who are you?' She said.
'Michael,' he answered and tilted his head to the radio on his shoulder. 'Black one, this is Williams, do you copy?'
He repeated and the second time Paskirov appeared on the other side.
'What is it?'
'Colonel, I found a... I found another ghost. Requesting permission to take her... Over.'
'Right. Another ghost,' Paskirov's doubt could be heard even through the radio. 'Wow. Well, sure. Get him out. We'll see if we can trust him.'
'It's her, colonel, but never mind that for now,' Williams thought to himself.
'Roger that. One more member of the platoon, colonel. Over.'
The other soldiers were looking with curiosity at the prisoner from behind Williams' back.
She was a slim, thirty-year old woman dressed in an orange prisoners' pants and blouse . She had brown-grey hair that reached her shoulders and fell in front of her stern face, obscuring her eyes. She was looking at the ghost.
'Good day. We're here to make you an offer,' Williams said and then thought at her, 'You can come and fight with us.'
'Sounds tempting. I'll take it,' she replied and Williams could hear her thoughts, 'Anything against the Confederacy.'
'We're currently extracting two professors from this place. If you step outside, you can come with this group,' he invited her to the corridor and took out his secondary weapon – a pistol – and gave it to her. 'Take it – you might find it handy.'
She checked the magazine and the aim and stood in front of the door, the rest of the soldiers having stepped back.
'Where do we go, Michael?' she said in an even tone.
'First, I am Major Williams, and second, we're going that way,' he pointed at the end of the corridor and began explaining the designations. As he was talking, a transmission from his platoon interrupted him.
'Platoon leader, this is Rurke, on the fourth floor.' There were sounds of shooting. 'We have contact! Several hostiles, armored up. Over!'
Things up there were making a turn to the worse.
'Platoon, go for the stairs, checkpoint BC and head to the fourth floor. We are meeting there. Over,' Williams told his men, then radioed Paskirov. 'Black one, we've got hostiles, fourth floor, next to checkpoint BC, armed up. Over.'
'Right,' Paskirov's voice was heard. 'Eliminate them and commence an attack move on the fourth floor towards checkpoint CD. Over.'
Williams led his group through the double door and into the stairway's hall. Then, they heard some noise from the upper floor and suddenly from the other part of the corridor, the one that spanned from the stairway to the northeast tower, bullets flew in close to one of the troops. The soldiers quickly found cover at the walls or behind the stairs and the marines responded with a hail of their own. Williams was standing against the wall, aside from the line of sight of anybody in that corridor. As he was hurriedly analyzing any suitable positions for him to fire from, the enemy was firing viciously against them and chunks of concrete were blown off the walls where the bullets were hitting.
'Jim! Throw a grenade. Everybody follows!' He shouted at one of the soldiers and prepared to take down the first enemy in the corridor that was still standing.
The marine twisted out of his cover and fired his grenade launcher at the entrance to the corridor. The loud explosion shook the building and, under the suppressing effects of the grenade, the squad jumped into the corridor. At the end, by the entrance to the northeast tower, there were several guards in combat suits. Two of the marines opened fire against the enemies and pushed them back. Williams kneeled and aimed at the visor of the nearest confederate with his C-10. Before he pressed the trigger, though, two shots from the group were heard and the guard fell, shot in the head. As the other marines moved against the guards, suppressing them with fire, Williams looked at who fired them. It was the woman.
'Nice firing,' he said with a slight approval.
'Mind your enemies,' she thought back and fired a few more rounds at the enemy positions at the end of the corridor.
Williams' squad was prevailing. Their fire killed three of the guards and made the other two run away towards the middle of the northern wing. He pulled his men back. Two of them were wounded, but the combat suits would do their jobs and not keep them going. It was time to meet up with the others on the fourth level. And, of course, inform command of the encounter.
'Black one, this is Williams, we had contact with five or six guards on the second level, between BC and tower CC. They were armed with combat suits. Wounds, but no casualties, over.'
'Right. Damn! They've got the gear,' Paskirov replied. 'For your information, major, they keep battlegear in the basement. The entrance is between checkpoint CD and the northwest tower, on the first floor. Expect attacks from that direction. Good luck, over.'
Williams looked at his group and waved at them to proceed upstairs. On the fourth floor, the encounter was over in favor of the Umojan group. The bodies of the guards lay on the ground and all the platoon was assembled. Voices were heard from behind the heavy steel doors, but no soldier responded to the prisoners. Williams saw the first casualties: two men who were to be recorded as the first KIA's for the whole expedition. The other soldiers were serious after the encounter with the gravity of war and when the prisoner ghost came in sight, the troops' attitude was mixed with suspicion.
'Any other hostiles?' Williams asked seriously, trying to distract his men's thoughts from the dead.
'Sir, no, sir.'
'Not on the first floor.'
'Only these here.'
'Good. We're moving to checkpoint CD now. Our objective is on this level. Let's go.'
The men started to move out, leaving the dead behind. Williams turned to the prisoner.
'You want to watch over them?' he said and felt a scornful response.
'Is this why you got me out for?'
'Alright, go with them,' he tried to mend the mistake. 'Greg, come over here!'
An Umojan with an expression of stress and anxiety walked back from the platoon and over to Williams.
'S-sir?'
'Keep an eye on your mates. We will be right back,' the ghost said and ran forwards at the men. He felt curious about the name of the woman, but decided not to ask yet. He could not let matters irrelevant to the mission to distract him.
In the meantime, Paskirov was finishing the interrogation of the captured enemies at the second floor of the northwest tower. Surrounded by the first and the third platoon, they had chosen the most logical thing to do and had surrendered. From them, Paskirov learned that the special rooms on the fourth floor east of CD were, indeed, the command center of the prison. The captured guards also described the Confederate defenses accurately and what they said corresponded with the platoons' data. Only one group was unaccounted for, somewhere on the first floor around the northeast tower. That was not good.
These enemies were most likely armored up. They could head either towards the main gate and attempt to cut the first company's way out off, or towards the command center and make a last stand there. If they chose to guard the computers, Williams and second platoon would have troubles accessing the site. If they chose to seal the main entrance, more problems were to follow. Paskirov expected the guards to have called the local Confederate officials and there was the possibility that the guards would try, as a final measure, to isolate the first company and wait for bigger Confederate forces to arrive and eliminate the unknown enemy who was storming the prison. If that happened, the Umojans would have to call more forces and maybe even the whole fleet. As a result, the secrecy of the expedition would seriously be compromised and God knows what could happen to the Confederacy. It was time to react.
'Boys,' Paskirov turned to the first and third platoons, which were resting, 'I want you to go to the main gate ASAP. Make sure it stays under our control. Jones, you are in command of platoons three and five, in addition to your own for now. You are responsible for the main gate now. I'll inform platoon five. Go.'
'T-thank you, sir!' Jones was in awe at his promotion.
'Don't thank me, do it!' Boris reproved him and Jones quickly began assembling his men towards the main gate.
'Platoon two, this is Black one. Report status. Over,' he then checked how the second platoon was doing.
'Black one, this is second platoon. We are at our objective. There was meagre resistance. We are preparing demolition maneuvers.... Blowing the doors, sir,' an uneasy silence. 'Over.'
'Right. We'll be with you shortly. Secure the perimeter around the objective. Over.'
'Platoon four, this is Black one. How are you doing now?'
'Black one, we are moving towards the objective. Nothing on the fourth floor. Although, in this section the doors have bars and we can see the prisoners. We've had two casualties and some wounded, but we're fine. Over.'
'Right. Bear in mind that platoon two is already at the objective, major, so try to avoid fratricide. We are also headed that way, over,' Boris finished.
'Time to go. Take these two with us,' he ordered his group, pointing at two of the Confederates who were administrative personnel. 'They might help us with the passwords.'
The leading group headed towards the fourth floor. They climbed the stairs at checkpoint CD and went on the fourth floor administrative area.
It was very much unlike the rest of the prison. The walls were painted white and there were chairs in the corridor. Even the lights on the ceiling were a better model. The second and the fourth platoon had opened all the doors and were in defensive positions, awaiting for any enemy that might come.
Paskirov led the scientists through the rooms, showing them the computers. They went to work, keeping the two Confederates nearby for information. There was no enemy activity nearby or around the gates. As he was waiting at one of the loading screens, he walked out in the corridor and there he saw Williams. Next to the ghost, there was a slim woman with grayish brown hair and an expression that matched his in happiness, or, better put, Paskirov thought to himself, lack thereof. He approached Williams.
'Who's this?'
'This is the ghost.'
'A woman?' Boris was surprised.
'You sound like a Confederate,' she said to him. 'Carla Ravros, pleased to meet you.'
'Right...' Boris was analyzing. 'I am Colonel Boris Paskirov. A former confederate. Currently employed under others. I am in charge of this operation tonight. We need to extract two people from this prison. However, we couldn't miss another ghost.'
'So you call people like me “ghosts”?'
'Explain to her, Williams,' Boris said as he left to the room where one of the Umojans called him.
There was a transmission on the radio and the hackers had gotten information. The enemy had began attacking the main gate and the three platoons were fighting. He ordered them to hold the line and turned to the computer screens.
'Sir, we have entered the network. You can see here the database with the inmates. We're waiting for the names,' one of the Umojans informed him.
Boris ordered the two captives to leave and typed the names of the professors: “Clarke Ethan” and “Adrian Powell.” Immediately, they appeared in a table on the screen. Their rooms were 1308 and 1129, on the first floor in the west and east wing respectively.
'Can you guys see which rooms are any political prisoners in?' he asked the hackers.
'It will take a while to figure out the categories, sir, but probably yes.'
'Do it,' Paskirov ordered them and went to the radio to announce the upcoming evacuation to the guarding platoons at the gate. When he went back to the computer specialists, they were still working.
'So, sir, we figured to look for key words in the prisoners' files, and we have something like a list.'
'Sort out the people that seem most friendly to Umoja and print the list.'
'Yes, sir.'
In five minutes, the list was ready and the men were ready to leave to the gates, where the others were fighting. The scientists had deleted all security camera data and were preparing to leave. Suddenly, one of them gasped in surprise.
'Hey, look, Jimmy, I found a Sebastian Paskirov guy,' he said and pointed a name on the screen to the hacker next to him.
When Boris heard that, he froze.
'What?' he uttered.
'Sir?' the two were frightened.
'What was the name?'
'Err...' the Umojan was worried. 'Sebastian.'
'Let me see!' Boris jumped to the computer and viewed Sebastian Paskirov's file. 'My god!'
'Sir?'
'Where is he kept?' Boris quickly asked.
'Room 2414. Two floors below, in our wing.'
'We'll make a detour. Note him down. Also, step back. I need to check some more names.'
'Sir, may I ask who this guy is?' Jimmy's friend inquired.
'Yes, he's my brother.'
A few minutes later, the leading platoon, fourth platoon and second platoon were prepared for leaving and assigned with a route and specific doors to open. Williams would move through the east wing, past checkpoint BC, and liberate Professor Adrian Powell in addition to several more prisoners. After that, they were to attack and destroy the guard forces that were supposedly positioned somewhere around the southeast tower. The lead platoon, accompanied by second platoon, was to move through the west wing and free Sebastian, Professor Clarke Ethan, and one more name that Paskirov had added to the list. They would then move on the second or third floors and attack the enemy positions from above.
Upon leaving, the scientists had suggested deleting all records of all people imprisoned here. Paskirov did not allow. Many of the inmates were real criminals who threatened order – any order. Keeping them here was better not only for the Confederacy, but also for all the civilized Terran systems where people who were not responsible for the wrongdoings of the Confederacy lived.
And so, the groups diverged. Williams' moved through the corridors, eager to go back to the fleet. They opened door after door, hauling out the prisoners inside. Some of them were devastated and hopeless. They did not see the fourth platoon as real liberators and, at first, were very suspicious, undermining the morale of the soldiers. Others were still loyal to whatever ideals they upheld and their disdain towards the Confederacy was alive and helped them move along with the soldiers. The professor was of the second group.
When they broke through his door, he was standing in the middle of the room, carefully inspecting the soldiers.
'Who are you?' he asked with suspicion.
'We're from Umoja. We're here to shorten your sentence. Pasteur sent us. Come on,' Williams told him and lit his eyes.
Paskirov's group, too, saw the same kinds of prisoners. Some looked smashed beneath the dreary routine of the prison. Others were more fiery and eager to join the platoon. Some of the names and faces were familiar to him from the news. Some even wanted to fight alongside the marines and were issued some of the soldiers' secondary weapons by orders of Boris. As they got to Professor Adrian Powell's door, Chester, who was quiet for most of the operation, showed excitement.
'Friend of yours, kid?' Boris inquired while an engineer was setting the charges.
'Sort of. He'll be happy to see me,' Chester replied and held his ears for the explosion.
He walked in with Boris and a marine.
'Good day, Professor. I am Chester Fitzpatrick and we're sent from Umoja to rescue you. Come with us!'
'I'm Colonel Paskirov, sir. You will be soon back in Umoja. If you please.'
The happy old man shook his orange clothing and went out of the cell, greeting Chester and some of the other inmates that he happened to know.
The group continued towards the cell of Sebastian. Chester was very curious what kind of person Boris' brother was. The door was rigged and blown away and on the bed at the far end of the room, there was Sebastian Paskirov, holding his hands in front of himself in a defensive stance. Boris walked to his brother and Chester looked at the smiling prisoner. He was much like Boris, in terms of roundish face and hair, but seemed taller and skinnier. He also had an air of merriment around him, or so it seemed to Chester in this moment of family reunion. When the brothers let go off the hug, Boris laughed.
'You have no idea how glad uncle is going to be, brother! Let's get you out of here. You will tell me how the hell you got here later,' Boris said.
'Yep. It's a long story, to be honest. Suffice to say, I was lucky. How have you been?' Sebastian's voice was not as serious as Boris'.
'I tried to make a career in the army, like grandpa always wanted. It failed with the Confederate army, so I moved on to another faction. I'll tell you later,' Boris led his bother out of the cell. 'Now, you are coming with us. We're on an expedition, there's a fleet nearby and I'm taking you and some other important people out of this prison. Let's go.'
The group continued through the lines of cells and then, Boris ordered.
'Platoon leader Daley, take second platoon to level three checkpoint AB and commence an attack and destroy maneuver against the Confederate force. Make sure they don't disperse.'
'Sir, yes, sir!'
A few minutes later, they were at the last cell, 1318, located in the corridor between the staircase and the northwestern tower on the first floor of the west wing. Paskirov looked happy. Williams' platoon had had contact with the enemy and those Confederates were feeling defeat's approach. With the coming of second platoon, the enemy was doomed. Yet, this was not the main cause of his happiness. It was the friend on the other side of the door.
'And, who's that guy we're about to free?' Chester asked.
'An old friend of mine. I knew him from before I joined the army. He's called Konrad Thornton, he's from Korhal. You'll see,' Boris replied and shouted through the door. 'We are going to blow the door! Step back! Do you read? Step back! We are going to use explosives on the door to open it!'
Then, the engineers put some plastic explosive and the group stepped back for the blast. The door fell outwards with a loud slam and from the inside a man walked out, examining the Umojan marines, the scientists, and the group of inmates behind them.
He was tall and slim, with an air of strictness around him. He had short black hair and a strict, hollow face. His inquisitive brown eyes that seemed to pierce everything and evaluate it with impartiality.
'So, it's you, Boris. How was the army?' he daringly asked Paskirov.
'Not bad... But too much demands in terms of... Personal sacrifice,' Boris responded caustically.
Konrad laughed and both shook hands.
'As you may have guessed, I have changed employers. I'm on an expedition. A long story. I came by because we could make use of a specialist like you,' the colonel continued.
'Ah, so you offer me a job,' Konrad said with mocking excitement.
'More of an alternative to spending your days in the cell, Konrad. Are you coming?'
'You know as well as I that there is no other reasonable alternative, my friend. I will join.'
'The exit is this way, then,' Paskirov replied and turned to the door towards the stairway and the southern half of the corridor. However, as he was about to open the double door, he saw something through the amored windows that stopped his breath. There were seven Confederate marines in combat suits moving his way through the corridor in the direction of the southwestern tower, away from the group.
'Back! Everybody back!' he hissed at the people and ran towards the stairs. 'Follow me as quickly as you can! No questions!'
He ran and behind him he could hear the group realizing the presence of the enemy. Paskirov's guards were only three and he could not risk an engagement. He went upstairs and when the last people from the group were up, he checked to see if the enemy had noticed them. They hadn't. Paskirov's thoughts were running wild as he was analyzing the new situation.
Fifth, third and first platoon were now tired from the mission. Plus, the radio transmissions were suggesting that the Confederate force that was pressing against the main gate was still there and not willing to surrender despite the efforts of the Umojan company. If they attempted a breakthrough against the friendly positions on the first floor, where the exhausted fifth platoon was, they could succeed, especially bearing in mind the incoming enemy from the direction of tower AA. Williams' platoon had no other routes to the main gate except by going around the enemy by getting to the upper floors, but the stairway at checkpoint BC was disabled after an explosion and that meant that fourth platoon had to walk through the whole prison, either via the stairway at the middle of the northern wing, at checkpoint CD, or through the whole first floor.
Paskirov radioed the fleet to send the pickup dropships along with two more platoons from second company. Then, he informed the guards and the scientists about the situation. They had to think quick, because some of the soldiers around the gate were also running low on ammunition.
'The best thing to do is to somehow eliminate those seven guys we saw. There's no other friendly force that can do anything about it. I'm open for ideas how we can do it.'
The three guards and the scientists around them, including Chester and Konrad, were in a circle around Boris, thinking about the situation.
'So, things are bad, eh?' Chester asked.
'You guys fix this and we're all going home winners,' Boris began.
'Could we just charge them, sir?' one of the guards proposed.
'Too many of them. Seven against three. Us, that are armed. And you heard how good the odds of an unarmored person against a CMC-300 combat suit are when our boys were castigating those guards at the start,' another scientist argued.
'Damn, its all of us against thirty or forty of them. Why should those guys from the other platoons not just charge in and kill everyone?' Sebastian asked.
'Because, Sebastian, the enemy is damn well fortified. We are having them in a siege and we cannot just go in. They are desperate and are fighting like lions, those guards. Our boys are tired,' Paskirov said, realizing the arrogant mistake he had made by offering the Confederates down there no way out.
'And the seven soldiers coming to their rescue towards the exhausted fifth platoon can cause fifth platoon to run away, you say?' Konrad asked.
'Right. Fifth platoon is in the worst state now. We have to stop these guys you saw,' Paskirov replied.
'So the inmates can't help us?' one of the engineers murmured.
'We could get to the enemy supplies in the northern wing and see if we can arm these guys here,' Jimmy suggested.
'No, no need. I have an idea that might do an excellent job in no time, Boris,' Konrad said.

A few minutes later, down at the corridor going out of the southwest tower and towards the main gate, the seven Confederate guards were firing at some of the men from first company's fifth platoon at the other end. The guards were afraid of the unknown enemy, of their excellent equipment and daring attacks. No pirates or rebels had such formidable forces. However, now this enemy was tired. The sight of the fear and exhaustion in the men of the fifth battalion encouraged the guards to assail the defenders of the gate, and so they did.
Suddenly, one of the man at the rear of the guards heard three clanks behind him. He turned around to see, followed by his comrade. On the floor of the hall, from the direction of the door to the north, three red fire extinguisher tubes were rolling towards them. The man smiled and returned his attention at the enemy positions at the gate.
From behind the other door, Konrad was holding a shiny smooth panel from one of the radios and in it, he was observing the reflection of the rolling extinguisher tubes from behind the corner. When they approached the enemy, he waved at the three marines next to him. Farther in the corridor, in front of the silent group, Paskirov stood with fingers crossed. Konrad waved at the three.
The three Umojan marines jumped into the hall and acquired their targets. They pressed the triggers and unleashed streams of bullets against the three extinguishers. The red tubes were hit. The bullets flew through the outer metal coating and though the thick ammonium phosphate around the smaller tube with high-pressure gas under the neck of the bottles. Most of the bullets did not touch the smaller tubes that contained the pressurized gas and the chemical just began flowing out of the extinguishers' broken bodies. However, a few milliseconds later, one of the tubes was hit and its contents, which normally were released in the bigger tube, pushing the ammonium phosphate outwards and against the fire, burst outwards, creating an explosion. It made the other two bottles explode as well, throwing the enemy aside and pouring them with thin white ammonium phosphate powder.
The Umojans had nothing more to wait for. The two guards at the rear were dead. The others were stunned and unable to see because of the ammonium sulphate on their visors. The three marines opened fire against the stunned enemies on the ground, while the rest of the group rushed in and towards the main door.
'Yes! It worked!' Boris looked happily at Konrad. The men from fifth platoon behind the door of the corridor rushed happily inside, waving at the colonel.
'It sure did. So much about these guys. When are we leaving, you say?' his friend replied.
'The dropships are on their way,' he said and looked at the rest of the group. Everybody was here. He took the radio and checked the status of the troops.
'Black one, this is Jones, we are damn tired now, and we are running dry. Over.'
'Black one, this is Williams and we are keeping the enemy at bay, Over.'
'Black one, this is second platoon, and we are pushing them downwards through the stairs, over.'
Boris looked at the fifth platoon that had occupied positions around the main door. The men on the other side, where the other corridor to the southeastern tower was, were shooting with stinginess and anxiety. The way towards that corridor was obstructed by debris and behind them individual resisting Confederates could be discerned.
'Tell them to surrender,' Paskirov ordered Jones, while grabbing the radio.
'All units, this is Black one, we are accepting their surrender under standard rules of engagement. Over.'
Ten seconds later, the shooting stopped. The fifth platoon, battered and exhausted, lowered their guns while the Confederates inside began leaving the place. They walked in front of the victoruous Umojan marines with black colored armor and through the doors of the wrecked gateway out in the field. Paskirov, Chester, and Konrad were looking at the line of tired and discouraged guards who had lost tonight's confrontation. The colonel was proud with this moment. Looking at the beaten enemy walking out of the lit corridor, he realized that this was his first victory as a commander. He felt great but one thought hung over the air of pleasure, threatening his happiness. Konrad's idea had played the most important role, and this irritated Boris to a small extent.
As the Confederates went out, Paskirov's platoon, along with the liberated inmates, followed them to the open dark field. Then, the other soldiers came and went in front of the contemplating colonel and suddenly he saw Williams and Carla. The ghost walked aside from the line of troops and saluted Paskirov.
'Right,' he replied to the greeting and looked at the armed Carla with skepticism. 'So, what are you doing here?'
'She did a good job fighting alongside us, and she is also a psychic,' Williams responded.
'I hope you can fight well enough?' Boris looked at her.
'I can, colonel, do not worry. I was sent here for that.'
'Really? What did you do in order to end up here?' he inquired.
'I was captured by the police. And then I was captured again, that time for sure.'
'She used to make a living out of stealing and had lots of problem with the police in Antiga Prime. They captured her...' Williams began, but was interrupted by Carla.
'...And I blasted my way out, but then they captured me again, not far from the same street. And figured that I was a difficult case, so they sent me here.'
'Why did you have to steal, couldn't you make a living like a normal person?' Boris asked, immediately realizing the possibility that he's playing a painful string.
'Not when you mess with people's thoughts, you can't! When my difference meant that nobody wanted to hire me, because I could simply read their thoughts and... Go in their minds... And they were frightened and annoyed. They wanted me to leave, anywhere I tried to go to. Every time!' Carla was growing furious.
'Right, okay, don't worry, I feel fine right now...' Paskirov tried to calm her down in case her anger escalated into trying to kill him and Williams' reflexes failed him.
'Oh, I'm fine now, colonel,' Carla answered more evenly. 'In the prison I learned to suppress these mental problems. I am fine now, and I no longer read others' thoughts. I stay away from them.'
'Yes, I trust you, I do,' Boris quickly replied, wary of her.
'The dropships are coming, Boris. I'm leaving to them,' Williams noted.
'Right, go. At ease.'
The two left with the last of the marines that were abandoning the building. I hope he will be able to restrain her, Boris thought to himself. Otherwise, she is dangerous to the expedition.
He saw the dropships flying in the distance. Their lights were turned on and they were ready to get all the men onboard. One by one, they decelerated and touched the ground in front of each half of the platoons, guided by radio. He went to his group.
There, Konrad and Chester were talking about an issue in ship thrusters while waiting for the other members of the leader's platoon to go aboard. When the dropship took off, Boris began asking Konrad about his life.
'If you want to know, Boris,' Konrad began, 'I shall summarize it to you. After we went our separate ways, you in the military academy and I in the big university in Tarsonis, I got a Ph.D. in physics and sought a job in any big company that needed physicists. As I was applying for a ship-producing company, another man who wanted the job set me up. I was blamed for a robbery, and he had connections in the police. So basically, there I was, sentenced to ten years. Unfortunately, they saw that I had friends among some dissident circles, and therefore they exacerbated my sentence and sent me to Maltair VI. Thank you for asking.'
'Alright...' Boris replied and sat back in his seat to rest up after the mission.
At the fleet, the men of first company were greeted with praise. The unit had suffered marginal casualties. The barefooted inmates from Boris' group who had to walk through the ammonium sulphate had their feet cleaned. The two professors were here, alive an well. There were thirty or forty more individuals with anti-Confederate records. McNorman was impressed.
'I say, Colonel Paskirov, I am extremely satisfied with how well you performed. I see that the faith we put in your abilities, as well as in your loyalty, was well-deserved. By releasing these men, especially the two professors, you showed not only your skill in battle, but also your allegiance to our world. I am, as I sad, very glad with how you have done, lad. A few more such feats and you may be considered for a medal!'
'Thank you sir.'
In the morning, he woke up and looked around his cabin, wondering what he was planning to do. He was planning to introduce changes to the armed forces of this fleet. First, he decided to implement certain reforms in the infantry battalion. First, its five companies were now designated as INFCOM Alpha, INFCOM Beta, INFCOM Gamma, INFCOM Delta, INFCOM Epsilon and INFCOM Zeta, who were the hundred ghosts. Each infantry company was divided into five platoons, each designated by a number and made up of forty men, plus additional ghosts that were negotiated with Williams. In exchange, Williams' company got more troops in exchange. The five companies got half the ghosts in the army, fifty, and ten ghosts were distributed between the five platoons of each INFCOM. Williams' INFCOM Zeta still had fifty ghosts, so whereas the INFCOMs' platoons had two ghosts each, the sixth company's platoons each had ten – half the men.
Also, the soldiers were to be drilled into different tactics and formations. Also, the smoke missiles innovation was to be implemented on several scales, from grenades to bigger charges, in order to allow for maximum flexibility. In short – Paskirov began updating the force he had under his disposal to the latest and most efficient innovations he was aware of.