From their vantage point on the dusty rise, Valerius coolly assessed the situation unfolding at Relay Sector 2.
The squat, ferrocrete building was clearly besieged. Blaster scores marked its walls, and smoke billowed from a ragged hole torn in the roof near the main antenna array. Sporadic but determined pulse rifle fire snapped out from firing slits – defenders, likely surviving Garrison troopers, still holding on. Attacking them were perhaps a dozen figures clad in sleek, unfamiliar dark grey combat suits. They moved with a disciplined, coordinated efficiency, using cover and advancing in tactical bounds that suggested experience fighting potentially enhanced targets. Organized, Valerius thought. Dangerous.
He extended his Peak Kinetic senses, straining to interpret the energy signatures and analyzing their tactics. The defenders felt frayed, their cultivation signatures weak – likely mere Initiates, running low on everything. The attackers pulsed with controlled power – mostly Initiates too, but disciplined, and at least two resonated as Kinetics, Early or Mid stage. Individually weak, but their coordinated fire and movement were effective. Critically, their weapons discharged with a distinctive, high-pitched whine, and the impacts occasionally left a crackling residue that Valerius recognized with a flicker of unease – potential low-grade energy dampening effects. Standard tech wouldn't kill a determined Kinetic easily, but specialized anti-cultivator gear? That was a different calculation entirely, a constant threat below the 'Galaxy Level' threshold he ultimately aspired to transcend.
Then there was the ship. It rested silently near the station's perimeter fence, sharp angles and dark, non-reflective plating giving it a predatory air. It hummed with a low, cold energy that felt distinctly non-human. Alien.
"Kriffing hells," Sergeant Grok breathed beside him, lowering his electro-binoculars. "Definitely not pirates, Lieutenant. Armor profile doesn't match any known mercs either. Those are unknowns. Xenos?"
"Assume the worst," Valerius replied, his mind already weighing risks. His team of six against a dozen disciplined unknowns, potentially equipped with anti-cultivator tech, plus their ship. A sustained firefight out here was tactical suicide; it gave them time to deploy heavier gear or call reinforcements. Retreat was unacceptable. "Failure is not an option."
His gaze fixed on the smoking hole in the relay station's roof. An infiltration point. Risky, but it bypassed the main concentration of enemy fire and potentially negated some of their technological advantages if they were geared for open combat.
"The objective remains the relay," Valerius stated. "We cannot overpower them directly, especially if they possess dedicated anti-cultivator weaponry. We will bypass them. Grok, Rana – precision covering fire from this ridge. Target their Kinetics only if they directly threaten our insertion. Keep them suppressed. Make them anticipate a larger force."
Grok nodded, his Late Kinetic senses likely also picking up the subtle warnings from the enemy weapon discharges. "Understood, Lieutenant."
"The four of us," Valerius indicated himself and the Privates, "infiltrate via the roof breach. We link up with the defenders, secure the relay, neutralize hostiles from within. Minimal energy signatures. Absolute silence."
He slid down the reverse slope, Jax, Lin, and Bo following. The flanking manoeuvre was tense, Valerius using his senses to guide them through the dark, dusty terrain, actively dampening their energy traces. He needed to avoid detection until the last possible moment; surprising enemies often meant they couldn't bring specialized countermeasures to bear effectively.
Reaching the relay station's wall opposite the main firefight, Valerius assessed the climb to the breach. Using focused Kinetic force, he created minute handholds in the ferrocrete, then ascended with silent agility. The Privates followed, clumsy but quiet.
On the debris-strewn roof, the sounds of close-quarters battle were sharp. Valerius peered down through the smoking hole into a secondary control room. Three Imperial troopers, looking battered, used overturned consoles as cover against grey-suited attackers trying to push through a doorway.
An attacker hurled a small disc; it clamped onto the barricade and detonated with a flash-bang effect, stunning the defenders. The attackers surged forward.
Now. Valerius dropped, landing silently. His rifle fired, hitting two attackers in the back. A focused Kinetic wave hurled the third back through the doorway he'd just emerged from. "Imperial reinforcements!" he yelled. "Secure this room!"
Jax, Lin, and Bo dropped down, adding fire towards the doorway as the dazed Imperial troopers began to rally, hope rekindled.
But then, from the doorway beyond, came a low, guttural chittering sound that raised the hairs on Valerius's neck. An energy signature flared – far stronger, colder, and distinctly different from the Kinetics he'd sensed outside. It felt structured, potent, perhaps even approaching the level where technology's grip began to loosen. This was no mere trooper. This was the real threat