Flights of Fatality by Kimyou na Gaijin
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fatality1.htmlAt first, the base seemed deserted. Nothing was ever that easy, though.

Ken cautiously and slowly looked around a stack of wooden crates, marked with green packing tape and labelled as girder bolts bound for Riga, trying to see into the darkness past the storage area they'd infiltrated. He strained to hear the faintest of sounds, anything at all, that might give away the presence of Galactor troops. He even held his breath until blood pounded in his ears in protest, trying to hear something. His knees began screaming at having to hold his low crouch for so long and so motionlessly, his toes threatening in turn to go numb from lack of blood circulation and the cold seeping through his boots from the stone floor.

The place was completely silent.

Joe appeared, wraithlike, at his side. He looked at Ken inquiringly, wordlessly asking for an update. When Ken shook his helmeted head, Joe scowled.

I don't like it, he hand-signed. Something's not right. Last report on this place indicated it was hopping with Galactors.

Ken shrugged. I don't like it, either, he signed back. We have to make absolutely sure, anyway. He looked over his shoulder to see Jun and Jinpei crouched behind another stack of crates five feet to his right. Looks clear, he signed to them. Both nodded at him, then the faint outline of Jun's helmet disappeared as she carefully moved from behind the crates to her right, seeking a better vantage point. Jinpei did the same, slipping off to his left.

Ken returned his gaze to the darkness before him, the barely-seen shapes of more crates and sheet-draped humps -- which could have been anything from armored vehicles to piles of dirty laundry -- stubbornly refusing to give up any clue of Galactor presence. Infra-red showed him nothing but the occasional glimpse of Jun's and Jinpei's silhouettes to either side of the room as they slowly worked their way forward, making sure to keep each other within reasonable view at all times.

Ken nodded to himself, oddly pleased with this small show of teamwork. He turned to look at Joe and caught him eyeing the framework of metal beams crisscrossing overhead, guessing immediately at Joe's thoughts. He nudged Joe to get his attention, and when he had it, he shook his head, signing, No flying or jumping around. We can't risk being spotted by any motion sensors.

Joe's face darkened behind his visor. We need the additional vantage point, he argued silently. We can't afford to limit our options, especially here.

If what Hakase has speculated is correct, whatever we find in here could mean the difference between losing to and beating Galactor. We can't afford to reveal our presence here, Ken retorted wordlessly.

All the more reason to have the extra viewpoint, Joe reiterated, gesturing vigorously with his fingers while trying to keep his motions to a minimum. It would be damned stupid to be seen because we chose not to be vigilant enough this time around.

Mentally, Ken grumbled. He was glad that the dim light, softly issuing through the inch-wide opening between the storage area's doors from the damp and musty corridor outside, made the tight-lipped expression on his face difficult to see. Nambu-hakase had been adamant about the need for secrecy during this particular scouting mission, rather vehemently so. "Whatever you do, don't be seen," he'd snapped at them in his office, stuffy from lack of air conditioning to regulate the summer heat seeping through the walls. It was the fourth time in as many days that the environmental systems on that floor were on the blink, and the repeated outages, aided by the stifling heat, had made him irritable. "There have been three confirmed sightings of Galactor movements on Enceladus, and two unconfirmed reports of a new type of biological weapon in the final stages of completion. You are to go investigate, and investigate only," he'd added, forestalling the complaint Joe had been about to make. "According to those two reports, the weapon and its testing grounds are not only far below the surface of the moon, but heavily shielded as well. Whatever it is, they most definitely don't want us to know how close to finished it is, let alone that it's there."

Jun, a frown marring her smooth brow, had asked at this point, "How did they get something like this past the spy satellites?"

Nambu, looking frustrated and mildly embarrassed at the same time, had shrugged helplessly in response while wiping moisture from his face with a damp cloth. "They're still trying to figure that out, never mind how Galactor managed to burrow beneath the moon's surface and build an underground base without being detected. I want you to investigate this as well. Do absolutely nothing destructive; we can't risk any kind of epidemic that would endanger the colonists."

"Colonists? What colonists?" Joe and Ken had asked simultaneously.

"I thought the moon was too hostile to support human life," Jinpei had added. Enceladus had no real atmosphere to speak of, much less resources, and a strange gas of unknown origin that persisted in clinging to whatever atmosphere there was had a nasty habit of decaying any type of construction material that could be produced. ISO scientists had been trying to analyze the gas ever since two attempts to colonize the second moon of Saturn in 2058 and 2060 had ended in unexpected, violent and very messy decompression.

Nambu had shrugged again. "That's what we tried telling them. They came from Riga about six months ago, a fairly mixed group of about three hundred, and they're apparently convinced that Enceladus is their promised land -- something to do with proving worthiness to enter paradise by challenging the spirit. No amount of talking would convince them to reconsider, so we finally gave up and let them settle there."

Joe had groaned. "Great, another bunch of wacked-out religious fanatics."

"Fanatics or not, wacked-out or not, do nothing to endanger their lives," Nambu had snapped, fixing Joe with a baleful eye. "They've managed to thrive there despite the hostile environment and we want to know how. That, however, is secondary to discovering what Galactor's up to."

"Where is the settlement located in relation to the underground base?" Ken had inquired.

"Directly opposite each other," Hakase had replied. "The settlement is on the surface near one of the poles, while the underground base is located near the opposite pole seven kilometers beneath the surface. We have no data on how extensive the base is, so be very careful. The only thing we do know is that there are no connections, material, circumstantial or otherwise, between the settlement and the base: no tunnels or passageways of any kind, no links to any settlers."

"Looks like Galactor didn't want to be accidentally discovered by the colonists," Ryu had mused thoughtfully, scratching at his chin.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. The main thing here is that you are not discovered by Galactor," Nambu had emphasized, punctuating his words with gentle thumps of his fist upon his paper-cluttered desk.

"What do you think is out there, Hakase?" Jinpei had asked.

Nambu had pursed his lips in thoughtful consternation. "The initial reports suggest a weapon of mass destruction, but for some reason I don't believe this is the case. Something that size would definitely have been noticed, but that's going by the assumption that Galactor was dumb enough to try sneaking in a weapon the size of a meteor, which they aren't and haven't. No, I think this is something smaller, yet somehow massively powerful -- powerful enough to definitively tip the balance in our fight against Galactor."

"A bomb of some sort?" Jun had speculated aloud.

"Perhaps, although I don't think this is the case either. That's why I want you all to go and find out what it is. And again, don't do anything that would tip Galactor off to our knowledge of their activities. We can't afford to not know what's going on," Nambu had said firmly.

So had they been dismissed. Now Joe was proposing action that could very well blow all that out of the water, and Ken knew that it would be difficult to persuade the stubborn Condor otherwise. For the mission's sake, he had to do so.

Look, if we don't keep ourselves undetected, chances are Galactor will wipe out those colonists, Ken gesticulated. If anything, we have to think of their safety first. The last thing we need is the Rigan military showing up on Earth's doorstep demanding to know why we couldn't protect Rigans who migrated here in good faith. We need to keep this under wraps as best we can. Then, inspired by a sudden thought, he added, Besides, Galactor is very likely expecting us to take to higher ground. Those beams may be wired for just that purpose. We definitely don't need the building and seven kilometers' worth of moon rock crashing down on our heads.

Joe's face looked thunderous beneath his visor, but eventually he nodded, albeit very reluctantly. Ken started to turn back to view the silent storage area, but Joe's grasp on his elbow drew his attention back to the glaring Condor. When Ken faced him once more, Joe angrily hand-signed, If this all goes to shit, don't say I didn't warn you.

Ken settled for favoring his Second with a wry look rather than prolonging the conversation any further. He turned away from Joe and slowly peered out from behind the crates again, looking for any signs of movement. At the opposite end of the room, his infra-red-enhanced night vision caught simultaneous 'all clear' hand signals from both Jun and Jinpei, their fingers poking from behind the sides of opposing sheet-covered lumps in each corner.

Ken's knees and toes began thanking him as he rose slowly from his crouch and made his way noiselessly from behind the crates to the next pile of boxes a few feet ahead of him. He stopped there and listened, straining his ears for the faintest of whispers that would give away an enemy's movements. Hearing nothing, he quietly proceeded to the next stack and repeated the process, heading down the middle right section of the storage area. To his left, Joe mirrored his movements with equal silence through the middle left of the room, checking, listening, checking again, then moving on. Joe kept a wary eye on the beams running along the dark ceiling as Ken surveyed the floor while they moved. Their careful search soon found nothing nor no one hiding behind the crates, and a cursory examination of all the shrouded lumps revealed old-style rocket cycles in various stages of disrepair and rust, long forgotten and now collecting dust. Ken saw Joe pause to puzzle over one as the Condor raised the end of a dust-filmed sheet, apparently wondering what the presence of the decaying cycles meant, then shrugging slightly and continuing forward. Ken had to admit to himself that it didn't make sense either, but there was no time to mull it over now.

They reached the opposite wall at the same time. Ken looked right and left to make sure that both Jun and Jinpei were still there, both the Swan and Swallow nodding in turn as his gaze settled upon their crouched forms in their respective corners. All seemed to be going well so far, never mind that it reeked of a trap. This was way too easy for Ken to feel comfortable about, and the frown he saw on Joe's face indicated he was thinking the same thing. They had no choice but to continue on, however.

A single, large metal door with a three inch-long handle, already open a scant half-inch to reveal more darkness, broke up the monotony of the cool stone wall. While Ken and Jun kept watchful eyes on the room, Joe and Jinpei performed a swift check of the door hinges for rust before anyone opened the door, using touch and smell, and even the smallest of tastes, to make sure of their findings. After a moment's examination, Joe nudged Ken in the small of the back with his elbow.

No rust at all. These hinges have been well-maintained and were oiled very recently, Joe hand-signed to Ken's questioning glance. The scowling Sicilian's lips tightened with restrained anger as he wiped oil from them with the back of his glove, then quietly spat into the crook of his elbow to rid his mouth of the acrid substance. This stinks of a set-up, he added while rubbing at his gums with an unsoiled finger.

Ken bit his own lip in apprehension, but aborting now and letting Galactor finish completing the biological weapon was out of the question. We don't have any choice, he signed back. We can't allow Galactor to use that weapon. He was met with three nods of agreement, Joe's nod only slightly slower than his companions' as his eyes scanned the dark ceiling again.

Breathing a silent prayer, Ken closed his hand over the door handle and pulled gingerly. It responded readily, without so much as a betraying scrape, moving soundlessly on the oiled hinges. He opened it just enough to admit them, then, one by one, the four team members slipped through the door into the room beyond. Joe went last, peering suspiciously at the beams again before following.

Overhead, from atop the ceiling beams, four sets of eyes marked their progress in the almost total darkness with non-enhanced ease and extreme interest. One pair of those eyes dropped to a gauntlet adorned with two rows of three small buttons about the wrist. A slim finger tapped one of the buttons once, sending out a simple signal. A few seconds later, a faint royal blue indicator lit, followed by an equally faint crimson indicator. Another tap of the button sent a second signal back in turn. The first pair of eyes looked up and met three other pairs of eyes with a small nod. Four shadows then dropped noiselessly to the floor from the beams, without so much as that whisper of movement Ken had been listening for, and slipped through the door after the bird-cloaked humans.
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