Chapter 253: Kill Team
Recommended music: Marilyn Manson - Killing Strangers
Sin City, Inner Wall Battlements
Moor the Oerkin laughed bombastically as he sat on the pedal seat of the anti air Pow Pow Gun nicknamed by the rest. He yelled at the rest of his crew who held large metal blocks each containing 20 shells of 20 mm ammunition to hurry it up.
The support Oerkins shoved the ammo stacks upside down into the feeding well of the dual cannons and Moor pulled the bolts back to load both cannons. There was a crude wire sight, made out of two 'O's and Moor stepped on the pedals that looked similar to bicycle pedals to rotate the whole gun turret.
The turret turned with the squeak of badly oiled gears and Moor rested the 'C' shaped gun butts over his shoulders as he swung the guns upwards into the night sky that were illuminated by dozens of floating spells.
He was very proud of the fact that he was made Gunner as only a selected few were chosen and had to pass the Gunner test! He peered into the two gunsights, remembering in his training to align both 'O's together before firing and scanned the night skies.
Suddenly one of his support Oerkin yelled and pointed to the sky. A pale 't' shape could be roughly seen against the pitch black of the night as the strange flying object had its belly lit up by the illumination spells.
Distant roars of the Pow Pow Guns could be heard as they too spotted the strange flying creature. Flicks of glowing darts flew into the night skies, chasing after the creature.
Moor grinned and swung his guns towards the fast approaching creatures as the night sky appeared to glow with hundreds of glowing darts and spells. With his arms stretched out under the 20 mm cannons, he squeezed the trigger on the pistol grips and the whole Pow Pow Gun roared deafening and the recoil hammered painfully against his shoulder.
"WAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAA!" Moor laughed as he held down the trigger, watching the huge muzzle flash spitting out from the cannon muzzles. Bolts of tracers shot out into the night sky, most of it barely even reaching anyway near the flying creatures but Moor didn't care as he was enjoying himself greatly.
Just a short several seconds later, the bolts of the cannons locked back as the magazines ran dry and the Oerkin support crew snatched away the emptied magazines and replaced with fresh mags, allowing Moor to continue blasting happily away into the night skies.
"POW POW POW!!! MUUHAHHAAHAHAHAA!!!! MORE POW POW!!!"
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Skies of Sin City
"Break! Break! Break!" Goldan yelled into the squadron comms, "Break up and reform up for bombing run! It's going to be a hot run!"
The three bombers split their formation and broke away from each other as fiery bolts of tracers chased them. The tracers appeared to move so slowly from the ground before flickering past the bombers who rosed their altitudes higher.
"Shit, we can't do a low level bombing run!" Goldan cursed as he left the dangerous airspace of flying lead. "Our accuracy will drop by a lot!"
"Just get me over the target and I will do the rest!" His co pilot cum bomber yelled. "You worry about keeping us afloat, I worry about the bombs!"
The three bombers surprised by the presence of AA guns had managed to escape the AA net over the city with a few torn holes in their fuselage that were caused by luck more than how accurate the Orcs shooting were.
This time, the bombers knew what the enemy has in store for them and they rosed to an altitude of 750 m above ground level before heading back into the fray.
With his eyes glued to the bomb aiming device, the co pilot of Seagull One, mentally calculated the distance and height and gauged the proper timing to release the bombs from experience gained from bombing the Goblin City.
He saw the pulsing glow of the beacon appearing on the bomb sights among all the flickers of tracers and magic spells. He adjusted the targeting cross hairs and said, "Keep the plane level and speed constant! Bombing run lock in!"
"Got it!" Goldan replied as he calmed his nerves and kept the plane as level as possible while keeping his airspeed constant. He tried to avoid watching the glows of the tracers darting up towards his plane, knowing behind those tracers were more bullets following behind that were invisible to the eye.
The plane shook slightly as a few shells punched holes through the left wing but the structure held. "Shit!" Goldan cursed as he fought the controls to keep the plane stable. "Anytime now!"
"DROP! DROP! DROP!" His co pilot suddenly yelled and flicked the bomb release switches.
Almost instant, a rolling crank could be felt throughout the bomber as the bombs in the back dropped off in series. The bomber suddenly lightened, rosed up and Goldan quickly applied power to the throttles and pulled the plane controls up, bringing his bomber out of the danger zone.
His co pilot struck his face against the side windows and waited for the fiery mushrooms to appear in the city. "Think we hit what we supposed to hit?"
"Who knows?" Goldan growled. "Let those on the ground sort them out, we delivered the package and it's time to run! We ourselves got some shit to worry too!"
He rapped the fuel pressure gauge of the left wing and said, "Those bastards have damaged our fuel lines, pray that we can make it home in one piece!"
-----
The Mk II low drag general purpose bomb spun slowly on its axis as it left the bomb racks. It has a nominal weight of 250 kg but its actual weight with the fuze was closer to 257 kg. It arced beautifully with the rest of its brothers and sisters towards the ground and just before it touched the ground, its extended-nose fuze slammed the fire runes together as it touched the ground first and ignited the 122kg of high explosive filling just before the bomb touches the ground.
Instantly the building which the bomb impacted against vapourised from the blast for the sudden explosion. The low quality concrete, wood and stone barely able to withstand even a split second of the force of the explosion.
Barely seconds later, the rest of the eleven Mk II GP bombs rained down in a vertical spread barely two hundred meters apart and everything in its path was turned to fire and ash instantly.
The six napalm canisters each holding 100 L of a mixture of liquid Dragonite fuel and bio rubber made from slimes spun wildly as the canisters were a high drag design. They shook wobbly from the shock waves of the exploding Mk II bombs before hitting the ground seconds after the explosions faded.
The thin cased canisters smashed apart and spewed a thick reddish liquid across the area before a fire rune ignited and set the whole mixture into flames, turning the surrounding area into an inferno.
This phenomenon repeated itself over two other locations, turning the inner city into a sea of fire.
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Screams and cries rang out from the city as slaves, merchants, residents, and Orcs ran about in panic from the sudden spread of destruction. Several parts of the inner city wall had seemingly disappeared in the sudden explosions with the mage fire that seemed to be unable to be doused with water.
Dispelling the domes of protection that everyone cast, Tyrier coughed and swept away the dusty and smoky air caused by the bombings. Thankfully none of the bombs had impacted near them or even with seven protection spells one on top of another, they properly won't be able to make it out alive.
He scanned his surroundings and other than collapsed buildings and raging flames, there wasn't anyone alive that he could see on the streets. "Let's go!"
His team gathered themselves and they sprinted off as best as they could over the shattered streets, heading towards the Palace.
The Orc guards at the main gate of the Palace were mostly suffering shock shell effects of the bombs. Tyrier and his men shot them where they stood, sat, or laid down and they advanced through the gates and into the Palace.
Climbing the large flight of steps to reach the main doors of the Palace, they shot at any Orcs that presented themselves. Damages to the Palace could be seen as the air cleared slightly from the cracked concrete steps and walls to the shattered roof tiles littering the floors.
The Orc guards barely had any chance to defend themselves as several suppressed shots put them down and the men stacked up on both sides of the double doors. Tyrier gestured to Wolf to open the doors and when the doors swung outwards, the men stormed in, covering the inside of the Palace, sweeping left and right. "Clear!"
The interior of the Palace stretched out into a long hallway, with a long red and gold trim carpet that sat in the middle, leading up to a flight of stairs that branched into two ways.
"Squad Three, check the first floor!" Tyrier ordered. "One and Two, upstairs!"
Altied and Young split from the group and they each took up one side of the hallway and proceed to clear the ground level while the rest advanced upstairs. "Take the right wing," Tyrier ordered Hitsu and Loke while his team headed to the left side of the grand stairs.
They searched room after room, finding slaves huddled under tables or beds in fear. They ignored the slaves but shot down the Orcs or slaves who rushed them without any hesitation. "Where are your masters?" Tyrier demanded from a couple of cowering slaves after securing the left wing of the Palace.
"We don't know! Don't kill us!" The slaves wearing golden collars and white robes cried out in fear.
"Damn!" Tyrier cursed. "Team, what's your situation?"
"Two, coming up to what seemed like the throne room, over."
"Three, ground level mostly cleared. No hoomans spotted, over."
"One, roger, Two hold up, Three continue sweep and hold main exit for extraction." Tyrier ordered before waving his men to where Squad Two were at.
"Three, copy that."
Tyrier and his squad backtracked to the stairs and found Hitsu and Loke at the end of a luxuriously decorated corridor with dozens of dead Orcs littering the way. All of them died with looks of surprise on their face. "Any alarm yet?" Tyrier asked.
Hitsu shook his head, "I don't think so. We managed to take them down before they made any noise, except hitting the floor."
"We found mostly offices or administration rooms here," Hitsu gave an update of their sweep of the right wing of the Palace. "That's the last room we found and we suspect it the throne room of sorts since we found over a dozen of the Orcs guarding it."
Tyrier nodded and leaned against the massive ornately carved wooden double doors and tried to listen into the other side. He managed to hear some faint and muffled voices before he stepped back. "Alright, we gonna breach, bang and clear it!"
Hitsu nodded and he swung out a sling bag and dug his hands into it, before pulling out several blocks of explosive. He handed some over to Loke and they two struck the blocks of explosive against the solid looking double doors.
Hitsu poked several fuzes into the blocks and uncoiled a roll of wire before attaching it into his hand held detonator. The rest fell back from the doors, seeking cover before Tyrier nodded and Hitsu gave the detonator a few clanks, building an electric charge and squeezed the detonator trigger, "FIRE IN THE HOLE!"
He turned away from the blast as the double doors blew inwards, kicking up bits of concrete and smoke in the corridor. "FLASH OUT!" Tyrier yelled as he and the rest each tossed a flashbang as far into the room as possible.
Flashes of eye searing light followed by loud deafening cracks echoed out from the room. "GO! GO! GO!"
The men of Claymore One charged through the smoke and into the throne room with their weapons up and ready.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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Bombs away ~ !
Chapter 254: Article 75
Sin City, Great Hall
Raman stormed hurriedly into the Great Hall where the rest of his cadre sat around with worried looks on their face. Ivan waved the Orc guards away and ordered them to guard the main doors before closing and bolting the doors.
Raman grabbed a pitcher of watered wine and poured himself a goblet, shooing the slave away who offered to do the work. He slumped down on the chair at the head of the table and said, "How? HOW?!"
Nicolas De Vos standing by the windows watching the destruction of the inner city turned back and looked at the Raman was in a state of panic and sighed. "You are too greedy!"
"I warned you that we shall stay low for the time being, but no... you want to expand your powers and control of the area," Nicolas spat. "Now look at what you have done! They have found us!"
Raman paused in his fidgeting and glared at Nicolas by the window, "Didn't you enjoy the spoils too? Now it's all my fault?"
"Enough guys!" Ramu stood up and smacked the table hard. "ENOUGH!"
Raman and Nicolas turned away from glaring at each other and looked at Ramu who said, "Now the important thing is, is there an army outside the gates? Or is this just a strategic bombing?"
"I have confirmed earlier that three places are hit, Tony said from his seat on the table. He took a large gulp of the goblet of wine before him and said. "The factory, the Administration, and the Barracks are hit by the bombs."
"Leung... " Tony took another gulp of the wine, "Is most likely buried under the Administraction building..."
"Shit..." The rest looked at each other. Every one of the original eight was here except Aaron who was leading an expedition to find what the snake wants. Now one of them was dead.
"If this was just a strategic strike, they just destroyed half of what we have built up!" Kumar who was running the production department cried out. "All the time and effort... Gone! Just like that!"
"Calm down!" Raman snapped, his nerves returning. "We knew that they will find us sooner or later, and we made some plans for that! They must have sneaked some spies in and they found out which buildings and areas are a high priority."
"I doubt they have the capability to launch a ground attack, we will be able to see them coming miles away," Raman said. "But I underestimated that they have some kind of bombers! I assumed they will attack with those converted cargo haulers!"
"We prepared those AA guns as a surprise for those low lying gunships, now we need to rethink how to rebuild our production base!" Raman said. "We can't have the slaves nor the Orcs think we are weak! We need to be able to better protect ourselves and show those pretentious assholes that there are consequences if they fuck with us!"
"Wait," Nicolas cut in, "What are you going to do? Upgrade the weapons we have to the Orcs?"
"No, we sell weapons to the Empire and get them to wipe those fuckers off the face of this planet!" Raman cried out with a crazed light in his eyes. "We will show those fuckers!"
"Are you crazy?!" Nicolas cursed just as the rest looked among themselves uneasily, "You know what consequences there will b-?!"
The double doors suddenly blew inwards and several splinters the length of a man's hands sliced through Nicolas as he bent over the table glaring at Raman, sending him gaggling on to the floor.
The shock wave knocked the rest over their chairs and they stood up on their feet in confusing with blood caused by the cuts from the splinters. Raman wiped the flecks of Nicolas's blood off his face as he sat dumbly on the floor with his ears ringing when he sat several dark tubes rolled in. His armorer knowledge kicked in and he recognized the tubes as flashbangs.
He quickly threw his large bulk behind the upturned table and plugged his ears with his fingers and opening his mouth just as the flashbangs detonated. He screamed as his ear ringed painfully and he quickly crawled his way to the back entrance of the hall.
-----
"GO! GO! GO!"
They rushed into the room, finding an upturned table and five bodies in rolling about on the ground from the effects of the flashbang. "Tag and bag them!" Tyrier ordered coldly as he swept the area.
Tavel dragged the closest hooman to the side and wrenched the crying man's arm behind before cuffing him by the thumbs. The rest did the same while Hitsu called out, "We got a door here!"
"Go check it out!" Tyrier ordered and Hitsu and Loke disappeared through it.
Tyrier turned and looked down at the five men, one of them laid squirming by the table in a pool of his own blood, choking on his blood while Wolf crouched next to him.
Wolf looked up at Tyrier who shook his head slightly and Wolf nodded and stood up, denying the man any medical assistance as the choking man with a splinter in his throat gasped and reached out to try to grab Wolf's arm who stepped out of reach.
Tavel using his tablet, verified each person's facial features and names, followed by fingerprinting each of the arrested persons.
Wolf walked among the hoomans are using a video camera, he carefully video and record each person's facial features properly before zooming out to the capture the four kneeling men.
"Who the fuck are you!"
Tyrier stood before them and pulled out a small notepad, flipping pages till he found the correct page. "By the authority granted to me by the highest level of command, Captain Richard Blake, United Nations Naval Command, You five have committed the most serious crime of Desertion in time of war. Under UN Article 75, the crime is punishable by death or other such punishment as a court-martial."
He paused and looked at the kneeling men who were recovering from the effects of the flashbang. "Do you understand your crimes?"
The four looked at each other in fear and nodded hurriedly. "Y-yes..."
"Good, then it will be simple," Tyrier gave a cold smile. "And together for the crime of Murder One of two fellow UNNC servicemen during your desertion, also the crime of stealing properties of the UN and selling weapons to the enemies of the UN, the Captain has judged and declared your punishment by death!"
"W-wait?" The four eyes turned wide as they look up in horror. "W- We demand a trial! W- We have rights you damn savages!"
Tavel and Wolf each took up positions behind the condemned men who screamed, plead, and begged for their lives. "Make ready!" Tyrier's expression remained impassive as the men of Claymore One drew out their service revolvers as one and pointed at the back of the condemned human skulls.
"Take aim!"
"NOOO YOU BASTA-!!"
"Spaceman Apprentice Ramu Garcia, Spaceman Siddarth Kumar, both found guilty of desertion under combat and accomplices to the murder of Spaceman Ryan Lim and Spaceman Apprentice Hio Aoi. You are hereby sentenced to death by firing squad without trial!" Tyrier declared and nodded to Tavel and Wolf who stood behind the two. "FIRE!"
"FUC-!"
BAAAM! BAAAM!
"Spaceman Senior Tony Petrynec found guilty of desertion under combat and accomplices to the murder of Spaceman Ryan Lim and Spaceman Apprentice Hio Aoi. And Petty Officer 2nd Class Ivan Pavlo, found guilty of desertion under combat and to the cold blooded murder of Spaceman Ryan Lim and Spaceman Apprentice Hio Aoi. You are hereby sentenced to death by firing squad without trial!" Tyrier snapped his booklet shut and nodded to Tavel and Wolf who had step over the lifeless bodies and stood behind the two.
"I GOT RIGHTS! I AM A DAMN HUMAN! YOU ARE JUST FUCKING MONKEYS WHO WE BROUGHT UP! YOU FUCKIN-!"
"FIRE!" BAAM! BAAM!
Four bodies laid face down with the back of their skulls blown away, blood and brain matter scattered across the rich carpets. Tyrier turned and drew his revolver and stood over the last dying hooman in his own blood and said formally. "Spaceman Senior Nicolas De Vos found guilty of desertion under combat and accomplices to the murder of Spaceman Ryan Lim and Spaceman Apprentice Hio Aoi. You are hereby sentenced to death by firing squad without trial!"
And he fired, hitting the forehead of the hooman whos eyes remained open.
"Pack it up! We only got five confirmed kills here! We still got three more to find!" Tyrier ordered. Wolf retrieved the video camera from the table where he recorded the whole proceedings and carefully packed it away.
"Two, this is One, location?" Tyrier asked.
"Two, chasing one of the hoomans, we appeared to be in the north wing of the Palace!" Hitsu voice replied.
"Roger, we are on the way," Tyrier replied as the men reloaded their weapons. "Wait..."
He felt a strange tingling sensation of magical energy and he turned and cursed. "Fark this shit..."
The bodies of the executed appeared to be smoking. The GSW on the backs of the dead had tendrils of smoke rising and before their very eyes, the wound closed up and the dead coughed and cursed.
"Mother fuckers! I fucking kill you fucking monkeys!" One of the supposed dead pushed himself up to a kneeling position. "You hear! I fucking kill you!"
Without a word, the three Claymore One soldiers flipped their carbines up and fired. The suppressed weapons tearing chunks of flesh off the half kneeling men with their arms still bound behind their backs.
They jerked and danced as bullets slapping into their bodies, throw flecks of blood and gore all over the Great Hall before the ammunition ran out and the bodies slammed face down again in their own pool of blood.
Tyrier and the rest quickly reloaded their weapons. "What was that!?" Wolf whispered as he kept his eye on the bodies while slapping in a new mag into his M2 carbine.
"Farkers must have signed some pact with the Oerkin Shamans!" Tavel spat over the side as he stepped to the side to cover the bodies. "Farking dark magic!"
"-hahahhah! ack! ahhaha!" One of the bodies laughed and coughed wetly. "Orcs shamans? Those savage weaklings? No!"
The speaking body pushed himself to a sitting position before grunting and ripping his thumbs off the restraints, sending more blood splattering across the room. He looked at the exposed bones of his thumbs and winced. "It hurts like fuck you know?"
Tyrier fired again, aiming for the head. His shots blew half the head away of the laughing hooman and the others following his lead, firing again and emptied their magazines into the reviving bodies of the hoomans.
Black smoke tendrils coiled around the wounds of the hoomans and the wounds slowly closed up again. The hooman known as Tony laughed and coughed again as he sat there watching the Claymore One troops stepping back while reloading to put some distance between them.
"You.. ack! Can't kill us!" He grinned and wiped the blood from his face which dissipated into black smoke. Even the blood in the room was slowly vaporizing into black smoke. "The Great Serpent is our patron!" His eyes glowed with madness as he yelled. "WE CAN'T DIE! HAHAHAHAHA"
"Shut the fark up!" Tyrier yelled as he suddenly accelerated forward while drawing his sword bayonet and slashing down. Tony's laughing head flew off from his body and Tyrier continuously fired his M2 into the rest, forcing them to keep reviving.
"Cut off their heads! Salt and burn them!" He quickly ordered. Tavel and Wolf charged forward and hacked at the reviving hoomans with their blades, turning the whole room into a charnel house.
Tyrier pulled out a bottle of salt and quickly poured it over the bodies. The tendrils of smoke appeared to avoid the salt while seeming appeared to coiled around angrily before dissipating away.
"Looks like its working!" Tyrier grinned as he saw the wounds of the hoomans appeared to be struggling to recover. He nodded to Tavel and Wolf who each held a thermite grenade in each hand.
"Burn mutherfarkers... burn!"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Neobear
Neobear
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so tired till my eyes hurt...
Weekly Power Status
200+ Power
Ranking 
12 Power
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