A Dung Beetle's Dream-4

History is written by the victors... but most of history is lesser evil conquering a greater evil. That's how the 'good guys' always win, but then later can be considered a villain to everyone else. Sadly, even the whitest of knights will succumb to evil on a long enough timeline.

ATTACKERS

Of the teams conducting the assault, Team Charlie seemed to have the most luck. As a thunderous roar of celebration could be heard shaking the foundations of the station, Team Charlie landed lightly on the market floor. The decreased gravity of the market made the transition from zero gravity in the maintenance tunnels smoother than normal. Team Charlie's leader was an older leader, far older than most would have guessed, amongst his assault team he had two trusted men he considered his right and left arms. Quickly identifying the security station on the market floor, the team quickly executed a multi-pronged attack, three to the left, four the right, and three jumping as high as they could to try and attack from above.

They found the security team, three men who all seemed to be intoxicated. The look of complete shock and horror from the men was near comical, when they realized a lethal assault team clad in all black had weapons drawn on them. They were subdued and facedown on the floor within seconds. Just then a broadcast rang out amongst team Charlie.

"Send reinforcement to team Alpha! We are being overrun!"

Team Charlie's leader sent seven of his men back up the chute. They left behind several small rocket launchers and ammunition to the team leader and his two most trusted men. Now alone the began speaking in a dialect of German to each other.

"How did we get the boring assignment? The rest get to have fun, and we are left to babysit."

"We can make our own fun, right Herr Mengele?"

Josef Mengele was team Charlie's captain. He took off his helmet and laid it on the desk before walking over to the dock master now face down on the floor. He spoke in the common language,

"You know being in leadership it is difficult. One must inspire his men, one must train his men, and one must always be vigilant to the changing tides. Respect is earned, and loyalty is a symptom of successful leadership." Mengele emphasized the word in such a way that the dock mast flinched.

"If you fail to do these things, you will find yourself no longer in command. And worse it is the men under your command that will suffer for your sins, your leniency, your failures. But for you sir Dock Master... You will see your men punished... and then you will be punished for your failure as a leader."

In German he simply said, "Have fun."

The two subordinates moved and lifted the two security guards by their ankles. In the low gravity it looked more impressive than it actually was. Mengele lifted the dock master and turned him so he would have to watch the consequences of allowing drunkenness to occur in the middle of a raid. The two henchmen commandeered a set of drones and began tying the two drunk security guards to them. Setting them to a loiter mode, the drones piloted themselves to fly in the middle of the hangar. Mengele then whispered to the dock master,

"Now we wait. Your men will die, and you will watch them. Know in your heart, that this is your fault. Your failure."

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The three teams ascending the station did so fast enough to avoid the security team meant to intercept them. Gliding quickly and stealthily they found themselves on the level of the command center without alerting anyone. The command center was the third highest level on the station, just below the VIP suite often occupied by ambassadors from other corporations, wealthy businessmen and their escorts mistress or wife, and of course the one suite lived in by the CEO of Stepping Stone, Ford Tannen. The highest floor of the station was the observatory.

The thirty men of the assault team divided themselves into two teams. One team of five went to the VIP suites hoping to catch the CEO. The other twenty-five braced themselves for a breach directly into the command center.

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DEFENDERS

Captain Wilsher found taking on Alpha team to be a difficult task. Even with the renewed vigor, the invaders outnumbered, and the counterattack raging in every possible direction, it was an uphill battle. Of the forty men that started the counterattack, he now had thirty. It was difficult for them to see into the area with zero gravity, the enemy had disabled lights, moved deployable cover making every tunnel into the junction a maze in the dark. Four teams of seven men now pushed in fighting men in all black who were adept at changing the angles from which they were shooting. The ten men who had been sent into the lifts had been all eliminated in the chaotic gun battle that ensued the moment the doors opened. One of the men in the lift had panicked and pressure the door closure, and just as the doors closed a small grenade had managed to find its way in. The other five had been cut to ribbons by an invader, they now were either dead, dying or wounded being carted away by the lift. The enemy had sustained some casualties, but it was difficult to calculate just how many from their perspective.

The invaders deployed a smoke screen cover in all the tunnels. The leads on each prong of attack held their ground, unable to navigate against a perceived superior force. Captain Wilsher cursed and shouted, "PRESS FORWARD!"

Slowly the security forces moved. Silence fell on the battlefield as no one dared give away their position. When the ventilation finally cleared some of the smoke screen, the security forces found themselves facing twelve soldiers who all began firing down the halls. The deafening roar of weapons erupted in all directions again, but this time the security forces were stuck in tight corridors with no clear path backwards.

Captain Wilsher was in one of the corridors cursing and pushing himself back down towards gravity. Somehow, they been reinforced. A sickening realization that his men were losing this battle began to consume him.

"FALL BACK!" He shouted his command, but raging firefight swallowed his command and refused to let it be heard. Three more times he shouted his command. But by the time it was heard the gunfight had subsided. Making it back to the rotating hall with gravity they took cover and took count of who was left. The seven men with Wilsher had retreated almost unscathed. The other three squads had been decimated. Only three men from each hall had escaped.

"16 men.... from 40." Shock settled over Captain Wilsher, his face white, a cold sweat gripped him. His mind began to race, trying to figure out a solution, if only he could think clearly, he could come up with an answer. He needed more men... He needed to take back the initiative. Pressing his hand to the side of his helmet, he made an emergency broadcast to the rest of the security forces,

"This is Captain Wilsher; we need reinforcements to the hangar junction."

A voice sounded off in his ear, it was second lieutenant Ribeiro, "We have had no contact here sir. Do you want us all to move to you?"

Another voice spoke, it was first lieutenant Anderson, "I can send ten men now."

Captain Wilsher swallowed and cleared his throat, "Affirmative to both of you, we are holding until you arrive." He thought of a strategy that might turn the tide back in their favor, but he couldn't do anything until he had the men to carry it out.

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Outside the station Soren slowly made his way back to the maintenance tunnel he had come out of before the attack had begun. There he and Repo waited with the door closed waiting for an all-clear signal, or an announcement of a ceasefire. They were out of this fight, and that was okay with Soren.

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The light gunship that had initiated the space battle carrying the Hunter team had fought valiantly, but now found itself without ammunition. They powered down their engines and had strategically made themselves look unimportant, lazily listing away from the battle. The three men inside all let their bodies relax knowing there wasn't much more they could do. Three other gunships had joined the fray, but two were knocked out by the destroyer early in the battle, the last did one final dive back towards the market hangar doors. Rob disconnected himself from his chair and floated down to look out the windshield of the cockpit. Martillo and Rob watched in awe as ten more black vessels slid from darkness into the light. each launching bola rounds at the remaining OICs across the station. Rob let out a slow low whistle and then shook his head saying,

"I think we just lost this one boys..."

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The last gunship dove into the open market. Hoping to find refuge and maybe a resupply they flew towards the center hub. To their confusion they saw instead two security personal flying towards them. The confusion had delayed their reaction just enough for the drones strapped behind them to zoom forwards. When they were within two meters, each guard-drone combo, suddenly exploded. Losing control, the gunship crashed into the ceiling of the hangar, and then erupted into flames. Coming from the corners of the market automated robots eased forward to put the fire out and clean up debris.

Attackers

The ten ships moved into position outside the Station and with single sporadic bursts destroyed any remaining drones flying around the station. Missiles fired but were quickly destroyed under the combined fire power of the new spacecrafts. Heavily armored gunships departed from the largest space craft that was designated as a carrier. These gunships made their way to several different hangars. When they arrived in the station, they each off loaded an additional 25 soldiers per spacecraft, totaling more than 150 men all in black armor and moving with purpose. They quickly surrounded the now rallied security forces at the junction, who were on the verge of attacking team Alpha one more time. They threw down their weapons and raised their hands and put them on their heads, kneeling in the universal sign of surrender.

Striding forward from behind a wall of soldiers was a man in a white class-A military uniform. He inspected each other the surrendering security forces and pointed at three of them. It was Captain Wilsher and his two lieutenants. Three shots rang out, as each man died. The man in white spoke.

"Failure as a leader, results in the ultimate punishment. If any of you wish to join them, by all means pick up your weapons now...." Nobody moved, but one man eyed his rifle with just the mere thought of acting out. With a nod from the man in white, that man was shot as well. The shot came from Iso who had just landed on the floor after leaving his fortified position.

"For the rest of you, we will be your new employer if you choose to stay on the station. We will pay you the same wage you are getting now, plus a sign on bonus for your previous experience." The man in white nodded and this time the rest of the security forces were arrested.

A broadcast was made to the man in white, it was from the assault team at the command center. The man in white held a small holographic display in the palm of his hand which played a video message.

"Sir, we have detained the entire command center without any casualties. There are security forces here as well as leaders from each department."

A smile grew across the leader's face. Iso walked down to stand on the right-hand side of the man in white, and just as he arrived a private come through inside his helmet. "Sir, we have apprehended Tannen. But you and the commander are going to want to come and see this." Iso took off his helmet and walked in close enough to relay the message to the man in white.

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While the battle raged across the station and outside of it, a lone team moved to find a person of interest. If they were to succeed in their mission, the entire station would be theirs.

The five-man team tasked with capturing the CEO slipped from the access vents into the VIP suite corridor and moved door to door to find their target. The first suite they opened was empty, after doing a quick sweep of the premise the found nothing but an odd collection of dust on the hard wood floor. Written within the dust the mathematical sign for pi, and an arrow with the letter N at its point. This was the only clue that indicated that this suite had housed the Haruspex before she departed. The second suite they silently breached upon hearing voices emanating through the door. In a line formation they moved undetected, as the voices grew louder and rhythmic electronic music pulsed in the air. As the hall widened out the line split from single file formation into a fanned shoulder to shoulder position that provided overlapping fields of fire.

Looking down from their elevated position, they found a wealthy businessman drinking in a chair not facing them. In his hand was a glass filled with a brown beverage from a decanter nearby. His suite was the definition of luxury, ancient art from Earth on the walls, wood furniture, actual animal furs on the floor and furniture. But the art and furs were not what had everyone's attention. The loan man was watching young women in different stages of undress dance sensually in front of him. They barely acknowledged the black kill squad staring at them, but one girl did manage to lift a hand a point, her eyes were glazed and expression vacant. The businessman turned in his chair meeting the gaze of the soldiers in black. Without saying a word, he raised the glass, and then turned his attention back to women in front of him. The team scanned him and identified him as a 'protected asset' from another corporation. The team left him and moved to the third suite.

Upon reaching the third suite, the soldiers methodically resumed their tactical positions around the door and then entered silently. When the door opened a bright white light practically blinded the team as they entered. The halls were lit in a dim sensual mood, that was common for most hotels or suites. However, in stark contrast to the other suites, the hallway was all white, giving the vibe of a sterile environment. They entered sweeping the corners methodically. As they moved, they felt slight air pressure changes indicating that inside this room the air was being sucked in, rather than being circulated or ventilated. They soon found out why, for even through their helmets the faintest odor of rot and decay could be registered.

Getting past the entry they moved into the halls beyond where they found several doors. The door at the end of the hall had blood trails and on the floor in front of it. The team opened the first door and found a pile of body bags that presumably held bodies. Robotic arms seemed to be slowly moving them from a pile to a chute in the floor. Having not found their desired target they moved to the second door which had bloody trails leading away from it to the final door.

When the leader stacked his team in the formation to enter the room he decided to lead the breach. When he charged in, the view of what he saw stopped him in his tracks forcing the soldier behind him to run into his back. They all broke from protocol and moved slowly into the room with their rifles now pointing at the floor. Hanging from hooks on a conveyor belt system in the ceiling were unnaturally white humanoid bodies. Like cattle at a meat processing plant, the bodies were moved slowly forward to be lowered onto a table. Each body was naked and hairless. The crimson streaks of blood running down different appendages was all that indicated these were in fact biological.

In front of the soldiers stood a man with his back to them. He was wearing plastic full body jump suit, with the hood bundled around his neck. He nonchalantly glanced back at them revealing he was working with a cigarette in his mouth. His hands were working without his full attention, skillfully carving away layers of these husks of human bodies. He chuckled and hummed to himself, removing a kidney from a body that was pale, hairless and expressionless. Every step was mechanical for him, the muscle memory that he possessed allowed him to cut through the layers of flesh and around organs allowing him to quickly harvest everything within minutes. Near the operating table were various electronically lit containers filled with fluids and other organs. Eyes of every color, stacked neatly in a pile. Bigger containers with livers, lungs, kidneys, and every other harvestable organ were stacked and categorized. The illusion of sterile environment had been blurred upon seeing the blood in the halls, but seeing this man blow smoke from his lungs and splattering blood as he worked, shattered the rest of the illusion.

The butcher turned and looked at the assault team. His face was gaunt, his hair unkept and beard patchy. He grinned revealing perfectly white teeth, the perfection of the teeth was unsettling when they were compared to their host. Cleanliness inside such a filthy and tired man was unnatural. As he lifted his hand to either side of him, a conveyer belt shuffled another body, vaguely male to be worked on next. Blood smeared his hands and chest, and a messy coagulated splatter gathered at his feet, draining from the top of the operating table. When the conveyer belt moved, the old body was dumped headfirst onto the floor. The body bent in unnatural ways with a deep gut-wrenching squelch. Automated arms quickly righted the body and wrapped the remains, shuffling them back to the first room they had opened, through a hole in the wall to the left. The butcher let out a sigh, still grinning, closed his eyes and let out the forced chuckle of a lunatic, suddenly he began to speak unprompted.

"You aren't the new guy?! They promised me better staffing, you know? Said eventually they'd find someone to help give me the occasional weekend off. The overtime I've been getting has been nice though. I make so much money I had them stop paying me in money. So now they pay me in new body parts... New lungs to keep smoking, new teeth to replace the ones I filled with cavities. Was going to get a new heart next month. I always had a talent with a knife... And you know if you're good at something... never do it for free." He chuckled more as the assault team remained frozen in horror at what they were witnessing. The leader of the squad lowered his rifle pulled out his side arm which was silenced. The butcher let out one final proclamation in a soft wheeze of a voice as if he was being told he could go home early.

"Oh. Thank God..." Then a hole appeared between his eyes, and he crumpled onto the floor. Automated arms moved and bundled him up and moved him to the first room.

In silence the team leader stood there for a few seconds more, before shaking himself out of his trance. The four other team members had already moved to the last door, apparently less phased by what just happened. Inside they found a man and a woman dressed in business suits standing as if they were waiting for an appointment. They seemed unperturbed that they were standing on a bloody floor, but they blocked they path ahead. Upon scanning their faces for identification were revealed as the assistants to the CEO. The man spoke arrogantly,

"We will only speak to your corporate representative. I would recommend not shooting us if you value your lives." He had a small holographic communicator and threw it to the closest soldier. The team leader walked forward and took the communicator and shrugged slightly, with a hand signal he ordered two men to hold their position, and the other two to follow him. Splitting the team again was risky, but he felt he needed to keep eyes on these two assistants who looked out of place in this environment. The team of three moved to the CEO's suite.

They reached the last door and once again they stacked themselves ready to tactically infiltrate the residence. But this door, unlike all the other ones, was locked. With the door being locked they were suddenly alert again after breaching and clearing so many rooms and doors. A magnetic lock pick was pulled from the belt of one of the soldiers and applied to the door. With nothing more than a subtle click, the door popped open. Slipping past the door in unison with renewed concentration.

Compared to the other suites, this one looked as though a wind storm had blown through and made the place unkept and completely disorganized. Small, automated robots struggled to gather errant objects around the kitchen and the floor overlooking the social area that had a beautiful view of the stars. A disheveled, sweaty, overweight man was on the floor with two large storage safes tip on their backs and open. He panted heavily and tore at his space suit that left very little room for him to breathe. Between frantic breaths he attempted to plead.

"Ple... Please. I have.... I have money. I... I have money. Take it... Spare me. All I ask is that you spare me..." Sweat would fly from his top lip with every exasperated pronunciation of the words he spoke.

The pitiful words fell onto the deaf ears of the assault team. They stared unmoving, focused on the now defeated Ford Tannen, CEO of the Stepping Stone station and it's market. Tannen realized in horror that they wouldn't take the bribe, and threw his hand into one of the open safes on the floor. Retrieving a pistol, he pulled it up to try and take his own life but two shot rang out. One was a perfectly placed round through the man's shoulder disrupting his brachial plexus. The second shot was Tannen's failed attempt to end his own life. In another swift move they quickly disarmed and cuffed Tannen. The station was now completely under the invader's control.

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Shivering in pain Tannen was lifted and moved so his back was against the giant window that provided a beautiful view. Tannen was nauseous from his wound, but he was even more nauseous form his impending doom. The nagging fear of his fate had been slowly consuming him since the moment the haruspex had visited him. He cursed himself for not fleeing when he had a chance, or just killing her the moment he realized who she was. He thought of all the people he had ruined, the amount of money he had made through dishonest means. They played in his mind one by one, replaying with faces of people whom he had forgotten. A sinking pit began to compete with his nausea, and his head began to swim. Sweat began to pour even more from his head into his eyes, blinding himself to the physical reality he resided. Now with his eyes forced close by the sting of sweat, the visions of his life continued to play. Now his mind moved to the deeper darker crimes he had committed. Flashes of women he had bought, used, and sold. Then it was the younger girls and their terror played in his minds stage without control. The harvesting of organs from stowaways that had been sold to him from passing freighters. The cloning facility that they had built to make single use human shells for trafficking, for organ harvest, or for the passing wealthy individual that wanted to act out their worst desires. A crippling weight now pulled around his neck, making it impossible for him to lift his head.

It is natural for a human to cry out for help, it is our natural state from birth. We seek comfort when confronted with the suffering of life. A searing pain burned into his heart, a dark fire consuming all to the final shreds of his pitiful human soul. With his hands bound behind his back he couldn't bring his hands forward to alleviate his pains. There was no physical comfort, there was no mental respite, and in his soul, there was only damnation. He wept silently to himself. His own throat now turned on him, making sure he couldn't call out. As if the very neural network of his nervous system wouldn't let him seek comfort in another human. Everything conspired against him, forcing him to suffer through his own personal hell alone. Instincts from birth were overwritten, and in his heart, he knew this was some cosmic justice.

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The Commander dressed in white walked methodically towards the now broken man laying before him. No pity on his face, only contemptuous disgust. With a nod, two of the three men who had detained him lifted him and marched him all the way to the command center, now under their control. The third team member took out the holographic communicator that the assistants had thrown at him and offered it to his leader. Lifting an eyebrow in curiosity he followed the soldier in black back towards the sterile hall.