A knife flashed out as Kitsune rounded the corner, a silver blur ready to take their head off its shoulders. A lighting fast twist had the blade connect with Kitsune’s carbon black shoulder plate in a shower of sparks, the force of the blow knocking them into the opposite wall of the hallway. The Zerbanian goon rounded on them, ready to lunge, but was stopped eyes wide with shock as two coughs emanated from Kitsune’s weapon, blowing gory holes through the thugs shoddy armor, the spiny orange fiend slumped to the floor, dragging purple gore down the wall behind it as it slid down, eyes already fading with death. It’s hyper muscled arms thrashed in its death reflex, trying to grab, slash, and kill. Even as its life faded away.

Kitsune stalked down the hallway, a dozen small wounds complaining as they advanced on the final chamber, reminders of the long fight through the Zerbanian Primarche’s compound. In Kitsune’s experience any plan that command made fell apart in the first 10 minutes of the operation, but they had to admit that this was an impressive performance from command, insofar as how badly things had gone. The first inkling of how much trouble this op would be, happened the moment it kicked off. Kitsune’s team deployed from the command cruiser in orbit, if done right the launch tubes should have put them on a precise trajectory to land within a meter of the drop target, but since said launch tubes where built by the lowest bidder and maintained by underpaid junior techs who are supervised by jaded senior techs close enough to retirement not to care. That they were part of an operation at all was a bad omen.

At a precise millisecond the ship’s on-board AI triggered a salvo launch of all loaded launch tubes, unfortunately due to an interrupted training exercise the launch tubes had not been checked and cleared correctly, instead of just the six manned drop pods, forty launch tubes opened in rapid succession. Launching their payloads with explosive force using hydraulic catapults. Six elite (and disposable) black ops agents, and thirty-four pancaker torpedoes. Which while embarrassing wouldn’t have been an incredible issue if not for the fact that all thirty-four were the new MK78 that was undergoing final testing. Designed to penetrate the most well-defended orbital spaces, they physically destroy their own communications equipment shortly after launch and emit a high power EM field to scramble any attempted interceptor. Said EM field not only cut off any communication to or between the drop pods but also ensured the abort codes could not reach the torpedoes now screaming towards the landing site.

Kitsune immediately realized the enormity of the fuck up underway and began to take manual control of their drop pod. Throwing the maneuvering thrusters to full and dumping velocity to avoid landing at the same time as the torpedoes. Two other pods broke off from the drop formation, realizing the same thing. Kitsune could only watch in horror as the squad lead, and two fellow operatives landed directly ahead of the largest gravitational weapons strike ever deployed. Their pods flared to life, welding torch bright jets of fire bursting forth for a fast and mostly non life-threatening landing, but the three didn’t even clear their pods before the first torpedo hit.

A pancaker warhead uses a small matter/antimatter reaction to generate a heinous amount of energy, which is then used to generate a gravitational field using what Kitsune presumed was witchcraft. Peak loading amounts to nearly 10 million Gs for a moment before the field rapidly collapses, but that is more than enough flatten a circle a kilometer across and reduce anything organic to a soup.

Op 3 and Op 5 regained communication with Kitsune after the barrage of torpedoes reduced the section of forest they landed in into a perfect circle of hyper compressed rock and various organic compounds. Once the Nav computers kicked back on the surviving three formed up into a drop formation, they were way off course, but they had spent too much fuel to make another course correction. It wasn’t until Kitsune realized they were coming down right on top of the compound they thought the other three operatives might have been the lucky ones.

The reentry was brutal, because of the braking maneuver to avoid the torpedoes the pods entered the atmosphere at a much steeper angle than they were designed for. Kitsune’s reading topped out at 20Gs, their suit and training fighting to keep them from blacking out, before quickly losing. The other operatives were even worse off. As it turns out, Gerburon’s don’t deal well with temperatures beyond 140 degrees and even worse when the G forces spike. Their vitals had both flatlined by the time Kitsune came to.

Once slowed down to merely supersonic speeds the air brakes deployed, laying on more Gs for Kitsune to fight through, fuel reserves where in the red so it would be a sticky landing if the pod even made it that far. The displays showed the entire compound lighting up as it tracked the orbital entry heading towards it. Pinging it with tracking lasers and radar. Getting ready to fire on the target.

Strangely enough orbital drop pods had been designed not to open before their ultimate introduction to the ground. Alarms began to blare as the pod detected multiple launches of kinetic kill vehicles inbound. Releasing a string of curses they picked up off the Gerburon’s, Kitsune pull their gun from it’s locking catch and fired several bursts into the locks holding the pod door in place. The pods warning alarms turned into a racket of sirens and unintelligible Gerburon warning messages spoken by a condescending older male. With a final curse Kitsune kicked the door off its hinges and triggered a maximum thrust boost from the maneuvering unit in their suit, firing themselves out of the pod and into the brutal air-stream just as several shrieking missiles impacted the pod tearing it into a fine rain of scrap. Kitsune immediately decided they would never step foot inside one of those pods again, no matter what the pay. Thankfully, the shattered cloud of their former landing pod seemed to keep the compound from detecting the Kitsune’s armored form in free fall so the Zerbs didn’t splatter Kitsune like an over ripe rat-fruit.

Kitsune’s HUD ticked off the altitude and their suite locked itself into a stable fall position to stay within the debris cloud. No reason to move around and let the orange gorillas correct their mistake. Kitsune’s armor began readying itself for flight as the altitude continued to fall low energy fields formed themselves around their armor, turning its profile into a wing. The fields weren’t strong enough to offer protection, but were perfect for when you find yourself unexpectedly free falling from thirty thousand feet. Kitsune’s HUD showed them slipping beneath the last of the Zerb anti air coverage as their blistering decent brought them plummeting towards the ground, pulling back hard they bled away most of their downward velocity, shooting out of the cloud of debris from their former drop-pod they began a tight circle to come around the other side of the Zerbanian compound. Silent as death, and all but invisible in the dark of night, Kitsune landed by smashing through a top story window. Just dying to unleash the rage now boiling within them.

*******

Arys paced her chambers. The growing boredom of the past few months had begun to eat away at her. After the coup in the palace she thought she was done for, but the rebels locked her up in her chambers and seemed to have forgotten about her. That was two months ago and if something didn’t change soon, she would most likely lose her mind.

Giving up finding anything new in her admittedly luxurious prison, she flopped herself down on her bed; the mattress holding her as if weightless and the bedding as soft as a kiss. With a grunt of frustration she freed her horns as they tangled in the bedding for the umpteenth time. After zoning out for an indeterminate eternity, she pulled up the holo-feed. Thankfully, the new regime had forgotten to remove the default administrator account when they removed Arys’s.

Arys flicked through various feeds from around the compound. A few minutes ago she had heard the parameter defenses open fire on something. The deep rumble of chain guns and the shriek of launching missiles had woken her from a rather nice nap. Just after her imprisonment, Arys had used her out of system contacts to place a bounty on the newly crowned Primarche. With the dumb brute out of the way it would be easy for her to regain control over the planet. Her mother had pulled power away from the previous warlord and unified the warring tribes under her reign. Araen was the first female to rule the Zerbanian people, and the first to unify them. Prior to her the disparate tribes had remained locked in vicious back-and-forth warfare for centuries. No one tribe able to get a serious upper hand.

Everything had gone to shit though. Araen had instituted the first of her reforms. Attempts to introduce basic education for Zerbanian children, and ways to pressure tribes that were still quietly performing raids against their neighbors. They had expected backlash against changing the Zerbanian lifestyle, but they had not been prepared for the scale of it. Several of the more backwards tribes that had never been deeply under the Primarche’s influence had banded together in secret and assaulted the Primarche’s compound in the dark of night. Slaughtering the elite guard before taking Araen’s life.

Arys could only assume they had kept her as leverage initially. As something to hold over her mother in case their attack failed. It almost had as well, Araen was an incredible fighter. It was what had allowed her to rise to such power. Instead of bringing clans to heel through open warfare, she had challenged their leaders to individual combat, and she had always won. Arys had only been able to watch, helpless in her chambers as her mother had fought desperately against the wave of troops pouring into her chambers. She slew dozens’ but they wore her down. Once she was exhausted and wounded, Tiro’Q had swept in to finish the job and claim the position of Primarche for himself. Tiro’Q had been chosen to lead the tribes that had unified against Araen. He was cunning and underhanded, and his scheming had been terribly effective against Araen’s strict hold to her code of honor. She had always refused to resort to espionage, and it had cost her. Arys would not make the same mistakes as her mother. Though she would avenge her.

Rumors had been circulating for years about a lone mercenary. A deathworlder supposedly. This Kitsune had apparently never failed to complete a contract. Tiro’Q would not be the first, nor probably the last planetary ruler to die to Kitsune. Even Arys’s extensive information network had failed to find much on the merc though, which had made Arys wary. She didn’t like taking chances and hiring an unknown quantity was risky. No matter their track record. Arys had also struggled at first to find a way to hire said mercenary. Kitsune only worked for straight credits, pre-paid. Arys was a little short on credits following the coup since she had been cut off from the government accounts. What she had though was the ability to promise grants of resources. Something the Gerburon government was desperate for because of their Pyrrhic victory over the now fallen human republic.

As one of the most powerful members of the galactic counsel. The Gerburon Union was used to getting its way with new members to the galactic community. This usually came in the form of demands of resources and other tithes. When the Humans had refused the Gerburon demands the Union had responded by dropping a meteor on a human colony world. This came back to bite them in two ways. One, apparently the Human republics had been interstellar much longer than anyone had realized. They had spread deep into an unexplored arm of the galaxy rife with deathworlds. It had been briefly explored several thousand years earlier and quickly written off and forgotten about. No one had bothered to check if anyone had moved in since. Secondly, while the humans were well known for the passive stance in galactic politics and total lack of military power. No one had really any understanding of the industrial capacity that the Republic had control of.

Scouts had reported early in the war that entire star systems had been converted into sprawling ship yards. That several worlds were rapidly training entire armies. Nothing like the sort of military ramp up the Humans pulled off had ever been seen. In less than a year the Gerburon strategic command estimated that the Humans had scaled up so far they were producing more combat vessels in a month than the Gerburons were capable of in a year.

The war had quickly stalemated with millions dying in a brutal war of attrition. The Gerburons simply outlasted the Human will though. After ten years the republics had sued for peace and the Union had declared victory over the upstart people. The Republic had been shattered in the peace deal. The Humans slid into seclusion. The few organized areas still under human control almost entirely cutting off outside contact. The Gerburons seemed to have been left little better off. The unexpected brutality of the war may have mortally wounded the ancient empire.

This desperation on the Union’s part meant that when an ousted heiress asked for military support, with a small clause demanding the deployment of a particular mercenary. Offering in return absurd rights to her planet's resources, which she may or may not plan on following through on. The Gerburon military was happy to lend a hand. Arys’s heart sank though when she pulled up the compounds long range sensors. A massive debris cloud was raining down around the compound where the compound's defenses had shredded several drop pods. At the same moment a terrible shriek tore through the compound. Arys cringed and held at her ringing ears. The bases ground to orbit cannon had just fired.

Bringing the base’s telescopes into view, Arys almost wanted to cry. The polished hulk of a Gerburon cruiser was sighted in. The ornate ship now gutted where the mass driver had struck it, nearly breaking the ship in half. What the fuck had happened? Arys had been told an elite force was being sent. How had they let themselves get torn apart so quickly? Why did they use a ship plated in polished gold alloys for a stealth mission? Arys cringed at the rush of thoughts. It seemed she had badly overestimated the Union’s capabilities. Had they even hired the mercenary she had requested?

*******

Kitsune carefully setup the breaching charge on the door the Primarche’s chambers. They had been careful to kill the couple dozen soldiers they had to go through to get here as quickly as possible to avoid raising further alarm. It seemed unlikely though that their presence would have gone entirely unnoticed, and they had little desire to make things easy for the enemy.

Quickly pulling back to the side of the door, Kitsune brought their weapon to the ready. Its brutish compact design had no equal in alien space to Kitsune’s experience. A remnant from their people’s war with the Gerburons, it had been built for missions exactly like this. A compact bullpup frame, integrally suppressed, and outfitted with micro-explosive tipped flechette rounds. The XM-42 had never let them down.

A deafening crump filled the hallway with smoke as the shaped charge Kitsune had set cut through the armored door. Blasting debris into the small room and stunning any occupants with the blast. Kitsune was through the hole in an instant, weapon raised and sweeping for targets. Their armor’s thermal vision showed them the scene in a blur of blues and reds as they opened fire, flickering between stunned Zerbs in a lethal spray of precision firepower. Hot gore coated the walls of the room in sprays of hot red in Kitsune’s thermal sight. The darts Kitsune fired exploding inside their targets, shredding flesh and bone.

The entire fight was over in seconds. The soldiers holed up inside had barely gotten off a shot, and none even in Kitsune’s direction. The smoke settled as Kitsune sifted through the bodies. Carefully attempting to ID their target. The once luxurious room had been shredded. Fine furniture made from exotic alloys and luxurious leathers had been forced to act as simple shelter for the inhabitants, and between the breaching charge and Kitsune’s lightning assault had been shredded. Brilliant decorations of a hundred different hues had covered the walls, but they were now muted from smoke and covered in sprays of purple Zerbanian blood.

It was quickly apparent that the Primarche was not among the dead. Zerbanian males physiology changed depending on their position in society. Those in high authority would rapidly build muscle mass and even grow significantly taller. It was truly a might makes right society. None of the soldiers were any were near the size that a figure of authority would have grown to. While still significantly bigger than Kitsune’s dense form, it was clear they were little more than grunts. The hunt was still on.

*******

Another loud explosion pulled Arys from her sullen depression. This one had been from inside the compound, not the dulled sounds of the exterior defenses firing. A small flicker of hope returned to her as she pulled back up her holo-feed. Rapidly flickering through the compounds interior cameras, Arys found the source of the explosion. Something or someone had blown their way into the Primarche’s private quarters. Arys had seemingly caught the tail end of a fight as several muzzle flashes lit up the dust and smoke. The silent gunfire dieing down after only a few shots.

There were no cameras inside the private quarters, but Arys found she could angle one of the hallway cams just right to peer through the now missing doorway. Inside, the hazy shape of a dark figure slowly clarified itself to an armored mercenary that Arys recognized. The Kitsune had survived the disastrous assault on the compound somehow despite all the Gerburon drop pods being entirely destroyed along with their transport.

It was not exactly accessible information, but as a former head of a powerful world government Arys had been able to dig up grainy photos and short video clips shot from a distance of the elite warrior. The Kitsune had showed up on the underground scene about a decade ago. Always taking on the most dangerous contracts they could get their hands on and accepting only energy credits as payment. One of the few forms of currency accepted throughout most of inhabited space. The mercenary had quickly made a name for themselves as terrifyingly effective. Destroying both targets, and clients unwilling to pay with seemingly unstoppable ferocity. Little was known about the secretive figure. It was rumored they were from a deathworld, or possibly a rogue android from one of the ascended races. Either way, no one had seen them without the carbon black armor they always wore, and no one had ever survived being the target of their wrath.

Arys had developed the suspicion during her research that Kitsune was in fact a rogue human operative. While average human warriors were known as excellent fighters. Their secretive black ops organizations had developed a reputation for true terror during the war. Bringing the performance of humans beyond their already impressive deathworld physiology. The general figure of Kitsune in the scraps of info Arys had dug up had been too degraded due to being pulled from highly damaged storage. Or taken from such a distance that Kitsune was indistinct. Still, a lot of the strangeness surrounding the mysterious figure would definitely line up with Arys’s theory.

Seeing Kitsune so close in now left little doubt in Arys’s mind. Her gamble seemed to be paying off. In fact, with the destruction of the Gerburon forces things might go even better than she had dared hope. Humanity had always intrigued Arys. In more ways than one. Arys could remember countless times she had urged her mother to reach out to the remnants of humanity. Humanities push for equality amongst themselves and their singular focus on improving the quality of life of all humanity. Not just those in positions of authority. Had been an inspiration to both Arys and her mother in their quest to pull their people from not only endless barbarity, but extinction.

The other factor in Arys’s desire to build relations with the human remnants was something she did her best to avoid thinking about. The baser desires that drove it were shameful, if hard to resist. Attraction for Zerbanians was a strange thing. Their society had been one of the strong leading the weak for as long as it had been a society. In this violence became the fastest and surest way to positions of power and esteem. People skilled in said violence became the measure for attraction in the majority of Zerbanians.

Not long into the Human Gerburon war a video of a group of human commandos assaulting a position held by Zerbanian mercenaries showed up on the net. The brutal fighting shown in the video had shocked much of the galactic community. The stunning display of violence had a much different effect on many Zerbanians. Including a young Arys. Arys would often find herself remembering the way the young man had shouted “FIX BAYONETS!”. Just the thought sent a thrill down her. She pressed her thighs together as the memory flooded her core with heat.

Arys started, quickly pulling back to the camera view as she realized how badly her mind had wandered. The figure seemed to be searching for something now. Arys could just see enough of the room to tell that the usurper was not inside. It seemed he had slipped away when he realized the base was under attack. Waiving their hand over the walls of the room in a steady pattern, Kitsune made their way throughout the chambers. Arys watched as the mercenary covered every surface before starting on the floor. Even dragging bodies aside to more thoroughly cover the floor. After long minutes of watching, Arys saw the figure freeze over a spot on the floor.

Arys watched as Kitsune knelt down and pulled something from a compartment in the side of their armor. It was a small tube from which poured a strange metal powder. Arys didn’t recognize it, but it presumably was important because as Arys watched Kitsune made a circle with the powder on the floor. Before covering the dense circle with another powder from a different tube and nestled a small metal object in the circle. Kitsune moved back behind the doorway they had entered the rooms through. Just as they cleared the room, the circle they made started to glow. Barely noticeable at first, but whatever the mercenary had set down there was starting to burn with terrible violence. Arys watched as a brilliant flash of green flames quickly turned into a hellish glow that overwhelmed the cameras sensor.

Just as the burning died down, Arys saw Kitsune blur into motion. They threw something Arys hadn’t seen them take hold of through a hole they had seemingly burnt into the floor. Another explosion rang through the compound. This one much more muted than the previous, and a blinding light flashed inside the hole. Kitsune followed the explosion themselves. Leaping through the hole the instant the explosion had cleared. Out of Arys’s sight in an instant.

“Where the fuck did they just go?” Arys asked her empty rooms now thoroughly flustered. She did not understand what might have made The Kitsune think it necessary to cut their way through that floor. She had never heard of any chambers directly beneath it. Flickering through more camera feeds, Arys couldn’t find Kitsune anywhere either. Pulling back to the camera they had been watching the Primarche’s rooms through, Arys waited as seemingly nothing happened.

*******

Kitsune’s mind and body roared with the hunt. They could tell that their target was cornered, afraid. They tore down the cramped tunnels that they had detected under the Primarche’s chambers. Using their suite they could effectively see around corners using echolocation. They rounded corners at a near sprint, counting on speed and aggression to win any fights they might come across. The escape tunnel was empty. The Primarche seemed to have left any guards he had to hold his chambers as he made his escape.

The Zerbanians spoke of courage and honor like they were unbreakable parts of them. Kitsune knew differently. The Zerbs were good fighters, to be sure, almost a challenge. Like any fighting force though they would break and run if the right pressure was applied. It seemed Kitsune was right in thinking word of their assault had reached the Primarche. It also seemed that he was familiar with their reputation.

Flying around another corner, Kitsune noticed the waiting figure almost too late. Throwing themselves into a slide on their back, they barely dodged a blast from a shotgun as big as their leg. The blast and flash of what was essentially a cannon in such a confined place stunned Kitsune for a second too long and they felt something enormous pick them up and smash them bodily through the wall. Rolling as they hit the ground, Kitsune sprung to their feet. Going to take a shot at the hulking Primarche now charging towards them, Kitsune realized they had lost their gun when they had been thrown into what looked like a kitchen. Again the delay proved costly as a sledgehammer blow caught Kitsune in the side, smashing them hard into an oven they had landed next to.

Kitsune ripped free of the oven they had been lodged inside of with a shriek of metal on metal. Slipping away from another blow. The Primarche roared as he missed, burring his fist in the now tattered remains of the oven. Tiro’Q was in a frenzy, throwing himself at Kitsune without thought. He was so out of control he had thrown his weapon to the ground as he charged after Kitsune to close in for personal combat. Spinning, Kitsune dodged just outside another blow which demolished more of the kitchen, sending Zerbanian kitchenware flying.

The Primarche was even bigger than Kitsune had expected. They had only fought a few Zerbanians of truly high authority, and Tiro’Q dwarfed the lot of them. His skin was a blood red instead of the more standard orange shades of Zerbanian men, and he towered over Kitsune in both height and breadth. His arms alone were nearly as thick as Kitsune’s armored torso.

The previous rush of chasing prey faded as Kitsune started to trade blows with Tiro’Q. Darting in to lash out at any opening, before dancing away from Tiro’Q’s frenzied retaliation. Dodging a rapid-fire series of blows, Kitsune skipped between counters in the sprawling kitchen area. Tiro’Q rampaged through trying to get to them. Smashing anything in his way. The cold precision of training was finally settling back in for Kitsune. It was time to stop playing with their food.

Tiro’Q charged again, trying to finally smash Kitsune. His inability to land a blow and the constant taunting of Kitsune’s own strikes only driving him further into rage. An animalistic roar of pure rage accompanied each strike from the hulking Primarche. Kitsune saw their opening and took it. At the last moment Kitsune dropped themselves down, throwing themselves between the Primarche’s legs as his arms closed on air. A blade of pure energy flickered out of their forearm. The directed plasma parted the thick plating of the Primarche’s armor as well as his flesh without even a hint of resistance. When Tiro’Q spun to grab at Kitsune again, his foot came free from his leg and he began to fall. Kitsune was there to meet him.

*******