The night over Velmora felt heavy. There was silence and an eerie chill threatening to choke the breath of anyone foolish enough to roam outside.
On the chilly concrete pathway, a man ran. His breath tore ragged from his lungs, his boots splashing on the puddle of water. The ground often felt slippery, but he did not dare slow down. He was filled with purpose, pushing his body past his limits.
The base was silent, save for the hissing and clunking machinery. Looking around, there was no other sentient being. It was dark with few lights flickering in the distance.
The man still running for his life slipped on a slippery area and stumbled over. Fortunately, he recovered quickly but that brought him to a stop. His heart pounding and ignoring the pain on his hands, he turned back, fear written all over his face. His eyesight was fixed on the sky, something was coming.
Suddenly, the dark quiet sky was filled with movement and lights. Then a stealthy roar came. From beyond the clear sky, black dropships burst through as if from nothing. Sleek with weapons drawn out, their floodlights cut through the dark like blades and began sweeping through the area.
The man tried to get up and skip away or even scream but his mouth was dry and the scene unfolding in front, scared him.
More ships appeared breaking formation and fanning out until they covered the whole base like a group of crows. This suspicious scene was followed by dozens of troopers clad in grey descending. Each jumping from a height, one by one and securing their positions.
The man's knees weaken, he found a crate to hide behind, hoping to hide. Then as expected an alarm came ringing from the speakers, waking the entire base.
A voice cracked over the comms, hoarse and panicked. "They are here, the Voss troopers. All hands defensive positions and defend yourselves, I repeat defen…."
The transmission was cut off, replaced by loud explosion. The military had begun their attack. The enemy came out the base, guns blazing and returning fire on the troopers.
Being greater in number, they pushed the troopers into defensive positions and mistakenly thought they had won. Little did they know, the troopers who jumped from that height, were not normal. That required a skilled person, the peak of troopers.
True to their name, the Shock Troopers moved. Faster than the average trooper, they dodged the first blasts and opened fire from their blasters. The barrage was enough to force the enemy into hiding.
From there, they saw them, other dropships arriving, only this time they landed. This assault team was getting even bigger. From them tens and tens of troopers emerged and joined the Shock Trooper.
With that relief, the Shock Troopers could be bolder and proactively attack. They emerged from their hidden positions and laid fire.
The enemy, a group of unorganised mercenaries, smugglers and criminals did not take it lying down. They did what they could, opened fire as they hurled insults and curses. But one thing became certain, they were afraid, they were becoming desperate.
The troopers however carried on with the assault, closing the gap. Their armour shimmered with energy as shields partially absorbed the first volleys. Blaster bolts sparked through the air, fallen troopers were helped up and moved forward. They were coordinated and moved as one.
Bolts of their blasts struck the enemy. Men fell, their weapons clattering on the ground. Some fled, knowing the reputation of House Voss's troopers.
The earlier man ducked again, breathing so hard, he could feel his heart bursting. Everything was a mess, his mind screamed for him to run, go deeper in the base but a careless move could cut him down.
He rose, intending to bolt and take his chance. Across he could see a maintenance shaft, if he got to it, he could flee. Just as he was to bolt, he froze. Another group of troopers descended before him helped by a cable. He unlike his friends was unarmed and they had spotted.
He came face to face with the cursed purple eyes of their masks. Fear spread through his whole body. Seeing the group, they were all decked with their rifles in hand and blasters in the holster.
"Down" a voice boomed through the helmet.
The man did not fight and immediately went on his knees. The last thing he saw before darkness overtook him was the Voss crest on blackened armour, gleaming under the lights as the back of the rifle struck him out cold.
Across the other troopers were either restraining the enemy or taking them out. To save time, they all knocked them out and moved on to the next. Another group came to retrieved and bound the bodies.
After clearing the field, the troopers moved over to the entrance. They carefully stuck by the walls and meticulously entered when the coast was clear.
The first group of five entered, carefully they moved inside. The entrance had a long corridor, at the end was a door. It was suspiciously opened, and the leader of the group was able to quickly deduce something was off.
There were five of them, two knelt on either side, aimed at the door. The other three moved forward ready to open fire. They were not in an ideal location, if there were enemies on the other side of the door, they would be sitting ducks.
The leader took the risk of nullifying that risk, in doing that he chose to storm the door. He sprung from his position and ran to the door, using the force of his body he crashed into the door, breaking it and landing on one man.
Looking up, he saw there were two others ready to open fire. He was in pain, his right arm sore from the crash. His left hand was free, he reached out to the one on his left. Grabbing his arm that had extending his blaster, pulled him so hard he dropped his gun.
He proceeded to throw him at the other, who had begun opening fire while he retrieved the gun and opened fire.
"Clear!" his loud call brought the other four in.
They were amazed by their leaders stunt but now was not the time, they moved on to secure the base.
Inside was dark and suspiciously quiet. The only sound they could hear was the cries being made outside and the loud explosions.
The squad moved deeper into the criminal hideout. The atmosphere was different, no movement, no chaos. It was so calm, the troopers released their vigilance and let their guard down.
Then as if materialised from thin air a figure emerged between them. Tall and armoured he swung his battle axe at four troopers. The swing struck two hurling them to the walls with a huge thud.
The leader who was across the room returned but was too late, the enemy was his right hand holding the axe and the other a huge blaster released fire. The new figure was imposing, stronger than the other troopers. He was not only bigger but faster for his size.
His armour compared with the Voss armour looked cobbled together, brutalistic yet did what it was made for. There was reinforced plating, exposed wired lines that absorbed energy blasts. And a skull like helmet with glowing red visor.
His axe was huge and dripping with blood.
The Shock Trooper searched for his subordinates. The earlier two were groaning in pain. The remaining two saluted him. He knew the man before him was strong, he was no ordinary mercenary, no petty thug. He had an augmentation, maybe combat drugs or even military training. He was certain of one thing, he was facing someone on his level.
The two had a standoff. The squad knew, shock troopers were beings that were normal guns could not stop. The only sure way to subdue a Shock class enemy was through force or skill.
He placed his rifle back on his back and pulled his blade. The criminal grinned behind his helmet, he too could tell his opponent was Shock class. At the same time, they lunged at each other.
They collided mid run, the blade clanged with the axe. A battle of strength occurred in that brief moment. The merc drew his fat blaster but it was deflected away by the other hand. They both lunged back and took up attack positions.
They watched each other eagerly, anticipating the enemy's next move. The two squad members who were shot at rose.
"Lieutenant!" they called.
"Secure the others" the leader replied. His attention went back to the merc. "You are strong. By the authority of House Voss I have come to rid this world of your kind"
He raised his free hand to unhook the helmet he was wearing and threw it on the floor revealing his face.
The merc scoffed.
"I have met many fighters such as yourself, and until now only a few have taken my interest. Let's see if you will"!
Upon revealing his face, the criminal merc could recognise him in an instance. He knew him, he was famous. Lieutenant Derek Thorne. A chill ran down his back, but he did not back down.