บท 129: Landing
Accompanied by an earthshattering bang, the entire ship shook, and the lights flickered. The force of the impact nearly toppled Tia, but she steadied herself against the cold metal wall, her heart racing.
Silence fell, the trembling ceased, and the ship's lighting dimmed, plunging her into a subdued, ominous glow. Tia exhaled silently—she had survived the crash.
"Emergency power activated, the planet's atmosphere is breathable, unlocking all emergency passages." The lights suddenly flared back to life, momentarily blinding her.
'Huh, they are alive too? Did I overreact?' Tia's eyes adjusted, and she surveyed the imperial commandos, their weapons poised and aimed down the brightly lit corridor. She slightly flushed in embarrassment at her overreaction as she watched their calmness.
'No, the attackers must have known this too. So their goal wasn't to destroy this ship, but forcefully land it here and disable it!' Her thoughts raced, eliminating possibilities. 'Not the ship itself, then something aboard...' Her eyes narrowed. 'They're after the cargo.'
Her eyes flashed as the image of the corridor with vaults Red had shown her came to her mind. Initially, the thought of simply ignoring the fact passed through her mind—there was no reason for her to risk her life for something that didn't even belong to her.
Ding!
//
New quest: Witchcraft is an expensive hobby!
Every witch needs to grab any available opportunity to enrich themselves, as witchcraft is an expensive hobby. Use the chaos on the ship and confiscate something from the ship's vaults!
Rewards: 5 x witch point; Novice Necromancy; 4 x (+ 1 to a random stat)
//
Steps echoed in the distance, growing rapidly louder. Without a command, the commandoes retreated, setting up a defensive perimeter. The steps hastened, and Tia raised her gloved hand, signaling readiness, her previous losses sharpening her caution.
POV An imperial soldier:
The cramped, dimly lit corridor of the ship echoed with the rapid thuds of military boots. Streaks of emergency lights painted jagged red lines along the marble walls, casting a sinister glow on the advancing soldiers' faces. Corporal Anastasius led the charge, his voice sharp against the clatter of their equipment.
"Hurry up, we must secure the bridge!" Anastasius's command cut through the tension like a blade, spurring his squad forward through the labyrinthine passageways of the imperial battleship.
The situation was chaotic, and he couldn't even be sure who was an enemy or an ally, but he knew the bridge had to be secured at any cost.
As they neared, he raised his rifle and waved at his men, carefully gazing at a corner before them. He was never on the bridge, but he was forced to memorize the ship's plan as a marine serving on an imperial battleship.
As they rounded the sharp corner, a harsh, mechanized voice stopped them in their tracks. "Identify yourself! This is the imperial high guard, lower your weapons immediately or you will be eliminated as traitors."
As his gaze fell upon the soldiers before him, Corporal Anastius paled beneath his helmet, his hand suddenly trembling. Not hesitating for even a second, he lowered his gun, not daring to delay.
Their long capes, their silver-decorated, dark, high-grade battle armor, and their purple visors immediately made him gasp for air. 'I just aimed my gun at the commandos of the imperial high guard. I am so dead.' He had heard enough stories that no one who dared to question the central imperial government lived for long.
He never doubted that they were not traitors, as there was simply no way for the brainwashed elite before him to betray the empire.
"I ordered you to identify, this is the last warning!" The dulled, mechanized voice made him stagger back, feeling like the voice's owner would kill him even if he hesitated for a moment longer.
'Fuck, fuck!' The soldier cursed inwardly, his eyes dilating with panic. With an effort, he straightened his back and squeezed out a response. He was the higher rank in his squad, and it was his duty, "Corporal, Anastius, of the Fir..."
"That is enough; you do not feel like a traitor." The gentle, feminine voice jolted and calmed him down, finally making him notice a beautiful woman standing behind the commandos. Her words calmed him down, making his rapidly beating heart finally slow down.
'Thank goodness! I will not be executed!' Noticing the sigils on her coat, he breathed out in relief. He was officially not considered a traitor by the knight of the imperial high guard.
"Now, soldier, tell me, everything you know about the situation." The woman spoke again.
(AN: It has been a long time...)
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