Centric followed behind the squadron, his eyes continuously scanning the windows—some dark, some sending narrow beams of light out—for any sign of Arcadian resistance. Kulova walked somewhat haughtily next to the captain, his chest puffed slightly out and his back as straight as it would go. Their footsteps echoed unnaturally loud as they walked under multiple sets of walkways towards the main palace of the complex. The metal pathway leading up to the center of the main palace was lined on either side by ornately designed shrubbery and trees, towering over them. Light poles as tall as the buildings were erected in between each hedge, the glow sending jagged, claw-like shadows of bushes and leaves over the ground in front of them. From off in the darkness, the rumbling of engines steadily grew louder as Arcadian ships began to close in.

‟Sir,” the ensign said in a lofty, somewhat imperious voice, ‟why don’t we just level the compound and be done with this whole Delargivic matter? Surely we have better things to do than roll around in the mud with the swine. If it were up to me, there’d be no need for this sort of dirty work.”

‟Well, it’s a good thing it’s not up to you then.” Captain Centric shot a look of contempt at the man before resuming his survey of the windows. ‟You may have graduated at the top of your class, but you have no idea of the subtle complexities of the political landscape we live in. If the Acusiont wants Delargivic captured alive, then we capture him alive or die trying. Now, shut your mouth and stay alert. I don’t want any surprises here.”

From one of the side buildings, shouts pierced through the walls, quickly succeeded by a burst of gunfire and the captain receiving a message from one of the soldiers in Greyhawk giving the all clear. Another message came through from the other building. All that was left was their objective. So far, so good.

the captain said in a message to all of Greyhawk.

The squadron approached the manor carefully, their footsteps clanking noisily on the metal. When they were within a dozen meters, gunshots erupted from the windows and bullets slammed into the ground at their feet, narrowly missing as they dodged out of the way. One of the slugs scraped off Centric’s exosuit, screeching as it disappeared into the night.

He brought the assault rifle up and aimed it towards the windows, finding one of the Arcadians and firing off two shots before they could duck around the corner. The bullets slammed into the man’s midsection, causing him to jerk backwards before falling out of sight. As he began to search for more, a sudden pressure manifested itself in his chest as one of their shots crashed into the center of his exosuit, knocking the wind out of him. He staggered slightly under the impact and hid behind one of the hedges as he made sure that it didn’t break through the metal of the suit.

Catlow and Gareth crouched across the pathway from him, hiding behind their own shrubbery and taking turns firing out blind shots towards the building. Kulova was slowly pushing his way forward, attempting to dodge from hedge to hedge amid the storm of bullets being sent their way, and a twinge of panic went through the captain’s head seeing the ensign’s foolish maneuver. The rest of the squadron sat behind various plants up and down the path, waiting for a proper moment to move closer and taking shots whenever they could.

The sound of something akin to an explosion came from the balcony at the third floor of the palace, followed by Kulova shouting in pain and falling to the ground. Sitting a couple meters away was the bottom half of his leg with a steady flow of blood oozing out from the appendage. A small pool of blood sat underneath the ensign, and he released his rifle to clutch at the stump of his leg that remained. Bullets from the Arcadians in the windows focused on him, the pinging and screeching of their attempts to get through the exosuit echoing in the night air. Centric resisted the urge to rush out at that moment to drag Kulova out of the line of fire, his breathing getting faster and more ragged with each passing second.

‟Dragoons, that is enough!” called a voice from above. Immediately, the gunfire ceased, though the captain could see their rifles were still pointing at his squad from the windows. Standing on the balcony, a large pistol-like weapon in his hand, was Tober Delargivic, a creepy, almost twisted, smile spread out over his face. ‟Captain Centric, you will have one chance to surrender and ensure that you and your team survives. The Praes Dominion reasserts its rights to protect itself against foreign invaders, but we are not merciless and would like to resolve this without further bloodshed. However, if you don’t surrender, we will be forced to resort to your barbaric methods, and I do not want to spill any further blood tonight.”

Silence filled the air, and Centric began contemplating the options they had. An orbital bombardment, as Kulova suggested, was out of the question unless they no longer wanted to take Delargivic alive. Their extraction teams would never be able to get there in time before the Arcadians executed them, but Greyhawk squadron might be able to flank them by abandoning their positions and flanking from the mountainside. If only they had some sort of distraction, then they might be able to do something other than hide behind plants.

Before he could make any decision however, another gunshot, the same as the last Tober had fired, pierced the air, and Kulova’s head jerked backwards with the force of the round.

‟No!” Centirc yelled as the ensign’s body toppled backwards, a gaping hole in his forehead with a trickle of blood still dribbling down the side of the exosuit helmet. His blood roared in his ears, and he felt his heart thumping against his chest with increasing rapidity, threatening to burst free from its cage. He fought a losing battle to keep his breathing under control.

‟Tick-tock, Captain,” Tober called out in a singsong voice. ‟The longer you take, the more of your soldiers are going to die until every last one of you are lying on the ground.”

Another gunshot rang out, and a bullet slammed into the ground in between him and Gareth and Catlow, the metal cracking and splintering under the force. Gareth’s visor flipped up to reveal the intense look on his face, and the man stared the captain in the eyes before he sent a message through the CAM.

As he sent the message, another explosive shot rang out, filling the alley with its reverberations and causing them all to flinch at the sound. Catlow was looking between the branches of the hedge they hid behind, trying to find anyway of getting a clean shot on Delargivic when a boom came from behind them. Streaking from the opposite side of the complex came a rocket, twisting slightly as it autonomously adjusted its course away from Tober and slammed into the stone wall of the palace. The explosions that followed lit up the sky, casting an array of reds and purples into the surrounding air. Fire burst out of the epicenter, streaking in all directions and eating away at the masonry. A deafening roar ran through the area, disorienting those closest to the impact.

The spectacle drew the attention of the Arcadians—as well as obliterating several of them—and Tober ducked in surprise before turning to watch the projectile as it went. He cowered on the ground, toppling over as he instinctively went to dodge the weapon, creating the distraction he was hoping for.

‟Now!” he shouted, charging forward moments before the other Siatians followed suit.

A few scattered gunshots pierced the air as the Arcadians slowly came back to reality, though Tober’s hands were clapped to his ears, his gun abandoned. Gareth ran ahead, his legs propelling him forward and pushing off the ground to launch him a few meters into the air before the wire hooks shot out from his wrists and wrapped around the balcony railing. Catlow and Centric followed close behind, all three shooting into the air and pulling themselves onto the balcony. Using the momentum of his ascent, Gareth launched himself at Tober and swung his arm in a loose hook, connecting with the man’s jaw and sending him sprawling to the ground. The trooper collapsed on top of Delargivic, pinning him to the ground and bringing his assault rifle up with a stinging snap into the underside of Delargivic’s head.

Centric and Catlow hurried over to Gareth’s side, helping him restrain the Emperor as the Siatians subdued the rest of the Arcadian soldiers. The captain flipped Delargivic over onto his stomach before detaching the cuffs from his exosuit and binding the man’s hands behind his back. The Emperor strained under the assault, trying to kick his attackers off of him, until Centric rapped sharply against his temple with the rifle.

‟If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay down,” Centric said, pushing Delargivic’s head against the metal of the balcony. His heart rate settling down for a moment, he sent a message over the general channel for the squadrons.

a young woman’s voice answered.

Catlow and Gareth held their own assault rifles loosely in front of them and looked over the railing, watching for any sign of resistance. The cannon-like pistol lay discarded a meter away from Delargivic, and Centric walked over to pick it up, feeling the weight of it. As he turned it over, the door to the balcony opened and one of the Siatian soldiers walked through, his visor up and hand outstretched with a small red metal chip.

‟Captain, we found this in Delargivic’s office,” the soldier said, handing over the disc as Centric magnetically attached the pistol to his exosuit. ‟I figured you might know what to do with it.”

The first side of the chip held a simple glossy finish, reflecting like a mirror, while the other side bore just two words: Alex Sympaori. Centric racked his brain, trying to remember where he had heard the name before, when a voice came through the CAM.

Centric put the chip inside a small pocket-like crevice at the side of the exosuit.

the man said, his tone neutral and almost disinterested.

The line went empty before Centric had an opportunity to arrive, and he looked up to see Gareth and Catlow looking at him expectantly. Delargivic still struggled on the ground, attempting to find some sort of way out of his restraints. In the distance, the sound of the engines grew steadily louder as the Arcadian ships came ever closer.

‟Well, what’s the status, captain?” Gareth asked, shrugging his shoulders and readying his assault rifle.

‟Extraction is ten minutes out, and the Arcadians are almost here.” With a thought, he sent a message to the rest of the squadrons.

A wave of affirmative messages answered him, but Catlow still appeared skeptical as Gareth picked up Delargivic by his upper arms and dragged him through the door.

‟What do you want us to do, captain?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

He gestured for her to follow him, their footsteps echoing loudly, before he knelt just inside the door and aimed his rifle into the night sky. In the distance, three small dots slowly became larger and larger.

‟We’re going hunting for a bird.”