Attack on the Lava Reef

by Wolf478 Fri Oct 02, 2020 3:14 am

Retaliation: Attack on the Lava Reef

part 1

Molten rock lapped at their feet like waves to the beach, a steam geyser hissed in protest as water began somehow building up inside of its bore, and the troopers tried desperately to remain completely silent as their toes burned inside their boots. They had been trekking along a single steel-tungsten alloy pipe for the last hour, and with little beyond the occasional turn in path, the soldiers had no relief from the abysmal cavern or sweltering hot rocks and metal that surrounded them. An insertion into Angel Island via a recently discovered set of volcanic chutes leading to Lava Reef zone had sounded like an easy task, but as one of the soldiers began to whimper at the pain of sneaking along the immensely hot pipe, it became evident this was no picnic. They were soon to reach a turn in the course of the pipework which would lead them to a steam converter where they could dismount from the enormous sweltering vat and continue with their mission. They were forced to remain perfectly silent so as to not give away their position, the low roof and wide cave tunnels meant that sound travelled exceptionally well in the volcanic environment. The turn had come into clear visibility through the heat distortion radiating up from the lava lake resting barely inches below their steel boots and whatever noxious fumes it was releasing, and the soldiers gave a sigh of relief, although it was hardly a happy sigh, as their minds could not simply be swayed from the inevitable first and second degree burns already incurred on their soles. The scientist wasn’t going to admit it, but the obtaining of these burns was a known variable in this operation, but with such an incredibly valuable entrance into the Angel Island Empire facility, they had to work fast on a remedy to the issues regarding it as an means of infiltration rather than find another way in. This was too good to pass up. GUN had even been willing enough to engage the DARR division in producing an ARD energy salve of sorts, the particles for which were in incredibly short, and immensely confidential, supply. It would force the soldiers charred feet to heal over time, but would not be able to remove the pain.

“Whenarewegonnagetthere” one of the soldiers whispered very hurriedly as they very carefully wiped the cascade of sweat off of their face in such a way so as to not lose balance and fall off of the pipe, but rather instead just seeming to interrupt the waterfall of bodily fluid pouring off of everyone’s faces, backs, and any other part of the body with pores. The scientist put a finger to his lips and turned to the soldier, giving another wave of a hand which had its fingers tightly formed together in an open palm and motioning forward, suggesting that ‘there’ was only just in front of them. It was hard to block the roasting of their own feet and the feeling of it blistering beneath their insulated socks and steel-topped boots out, as there was little else to focus on; the Doctor had no reason to defend this location, it was impractical for GUN to get an appropriate all terrain vehicle in through the small chute, and it was impractical for soldiers to do precisely what they were doing right now. The Doctor didn’t know about the ARD energy yet. Good.

And while it was sure fire that there would be some manner of defensive countermeasure once they got inside the facility, it made sense they had yet to actually see anything. But that was about to change. As they group finally came to a bend in the pipe, and the bored out tunnel of rock that sat around said pipe, half filled with boiling rock and metal, they could see the steam converter only a hundred metres off down the bend. Finally. The professor hissed in pained relief at the sight or something that wasn’t searing metal and began to pick up his pace, only to find himself dislocating a pain-shocked ankle and slamming his knee into the pipe below, catching himself instinctually with his hands only for the flesh on them to melt and stick to the pipe. The soldier behind him very quickly bunched the edge of the foxes collar into his mouth and gave a hard heave, tearing off the charred skin and pulling the professor off of the branding pipe. He bit hard into the collar, screaming loudly into the puff of material stuffed in his mouth and continuing along the construct only with the assistance of the same soldier, eyes watering beyond any utilizable visual guide. He had gotten the better end of punishments for clumsiness. Half an hour ago, one of the team had fallen off of the pipe and began to skitter across the lava stream, body boiling and vaporizing from the intense heat. The screaming was chilling enough to sooth the soldiers burnt feet. The unfortunate private had to be put down with a suppressed rifle. Too much noise.

At first glance the steam converter seemed to be all clear, and as they neared the mess of pipes, tanks, and fans the soldiers began to whisper silent curses of cheer at the incoming relief they’d feel of not having their feet boiled into stubs, but the heat in the air would remain, and the suffocating fumes also. That was something no amount of interdimensional dust-salve could fix or rectify. Unfortunately not all was able to go as it had hoped. As the first soldier leapt off of the pipe onto solid ground, collapsing into a heap under the immense pain that roared its way up from the impact of their damaged feet on the hard rock, they found themselves pushed to one side by an emerging Iwamodoki. It peered at the soldier with a vicious intent in its eyes before detonating. The small mole-like body sending explosive shards of rock and steel through every appendage strapped to the now bloodied torso of the soldier as it triggered. The soldier was killed instantly, and the two who were supposed to follow suite in dismounting the pipe fell to their own demises as they were struck with rock fragments. There were now only the 11 of them alive in the pipe. The other two gasped for air as blood profusely poured from large gashes across their upper torso, neck and face. Dark red holes in their flesh that seemed to end nowhere in particular, or in exposed bone. One of them let out a final gurgle of their own blood and ceased struggling, the other flailed about in an attempt to unholster their own pistol but was done the favour as the soldier who had ended the misery of the missions first victim saved yet another soul. Her name was Allison, at least that’s what the professor had remembered. And so far she had proven to be least apprehensive to solve an issue with as little pain as possible. Something the Fox could appreciate.

The rifle-slinging officer leapt down from the pipe, landing on top of one of the bloodied corpses and bending into a crouch to diffuse the shock through her body instead of absorbing it solely into the legs. This granted no safe amount of crunching from the ribcage of the suffocated soldier which she had landed on, and let everyone know of how much blood they’d lost as it began to sizzle against the heat exchanger of the steam converter in one massive pool. She flicked between infrared and standard vision on her headset, but it wasn’t really going to offer much clarity in this environment, and the heat vision was all but unusable. There were likely dozens more Iwamodoki hidden amongst the volcanic rock and loose rubble hiding within plain view. They weren’t going to be able to see them, but if the team could take a moment now to prepare themselves to have a quick reaction time, nobody else needed to die in a bloodied mess. Besides, there were other countermeasures in the lava reef foundry. A single toxomister and an unfortunately well placed airlock would find the troupe in a gas chamber. So suffice to stay, steeling their nerves now, in the presence of their fellow soldiers’ corpses was vital.

The professor took a short leap down from the steam converter and rolled into the small crater left behind by the detonation. And with no shortage or pained grunts and hisses, slipped one shoulder strap of the backpack off of his shoulders, his feet needed salve. And likely so would everyone else’s. They could make a rush through the surface escape when the mission was over if they were lucky, if not then back out along the pipe. But either way, more salve could be applied back at headquarters if needed, for now people had injuries. The Fox slipped the second strap off and trying to block out the sound of blood fizzling on the hot steam converter, undid the buckles to access the canisters inside. “Soldiers, begin your descent and keep in single file, we’ve got a special lubricant here that’ll fix your burns, but it won’t do much for the pain.” The officer had initially planned to wait for the rest of the group to line up, but found herself snatching one or the bottles as quickly as she could from the outstretched hands of the small grey fox. “Bout bloody time.” The professor on the other hand, after handing out the allocated jars, noted they had 4 spares. One for each casualty. He kicked off his boots, propping himself carefully against a stone wall, still dripping with perspiration and smelling like an ocean on a hot day.

It burnt. Hot. The salve that the Fox was applying to his charred and ever-so-slightly crispy feet, was burning hot. Temperature wise it was cold, and in fact was very cooling to hold in hand, but when it came into contact with the slow cooked meat of his soles they flared in pain. Apparently, according to the curses of every single one of the other soldiers, it was a universal feeling. The ARD energy worked in mysterious ways, and they hadn’t been gauging for pain in the trial runs, if you could call them trial runs. Physics beyond this reality tended to behave unexpectedly, but thankfully they knew it for certain enough that it would heal their wounds. With one foot complete, and the officer finished with her own application, the Fox watched as she scouted the small engine room they had entered. On one end, their end, there was a single large steam converter, that utilized the heat of the naturally molten rock to vaporize water and produce electricity. Then from there there were shelves and chain mesh storage lockers filled with tools and equipment, as well as thankfully deactivated Coconut badniks, obviously being used for maintenance here. A switchboard or sorts, which they would likely deactivate if they had to escape back out this way, but for now they needed the cover of silence and deactivating it prematurely would simply alert the facility to their presence. While the lava reef was so far a hellhole, the professor could still offer sincere gratitude for the fact this was not a mission to infiltrate the Flying Battery. The last thing they needed was badniks on every single inch of plated steel.

The second foot was now covered in the light blue lotion, and burnt like crazy, so it was time for the professor to pack up the salves and fall back in line. The other members of the troupe agreed, many throwing their canisters back to the Fox with perhaps a bit more agitation than was necessary. It was much appreciated that the Lava Reef was still mostly rock and rubble, rather than steel plates, although that wasn’t to say it was devoid of such development where necessary, because it meant security was difficult to manage and maintain for the operators. And lax security meant minimal difficulty for the soldiers in that regard, although they’d already been proven it didn’t exempt them from difficulty entirely. Thermal imaging wasn’t going to do them any good in this environment so they shouldn’t even bother donning the goggles, besides the fact they’d fill up with sweat before a clear image could be rendered anyway. The fox tried to wring out his moisture-soaked forehead fur to prevent the drip into his eyes for at least a few more minutes but was interrupted by one of the soldiers who had recently finished donning their boots back on barreling off to the side to avoid a shower of rock shards and shrapnel. Another Iwamodoki. Thankfully the soldier had managed to escape with shrapnel in his non-vital regions. Or at least the professor hoped. Femoral arteries where vital regions and certainly in the legs, but for now it didn’t seem the soldier was bleeding from the inner thigh, more so the upper and lower back as well as hind quarters. The rest of the troupe had been too far away to suffer injury, but none were too pleased to be spattered with rock shrapnel as it ricocheted off of the walls, the soldier had gone quite some distance ahead and the rest of the group were still hunkered behind the steam converter, except for Allison of course who had dived away in time as well and suffered no injury at all besides any from the initial impact with the floor.

“Watch your bloody step private.” The officer barked, kicking the soldier while they still laid on the floor. “Empire territory is not the training room. And I am not obliged to wheel you to the medical wing if you break a nail.” She put a foot under the soldiers side and helped lift him up with her leg into a seated position, “Everyone get up, and use your damn intelligence to give everyone sharp verbal warning when you spot an Iwam.” 11 was enough to continue the mission, but 10 would make it difficult to cover ground should they need to take two fronts. 2 teams of 5 were fine. But 3 teams of 3 were too vulnerable. And these places always needed more than 2 teams. At least with the extra soldier it was closer to 3 teams of 4 should then need to split that way- which the professor and officer both knew they likely would. The fox could only say he was grateful that his cells didn’t react to heat the same way they did to trauma, this operation being retaliation to the attack on site 14, he didn’t want the ‘gift’ from the Agents program interfering. Suffice to say he was going to be extremely careful lest an Iwamodoki catch him by surprise, or any of the other badniks the empire had in use here. Pawns were fair game, managerial at best, badniks were small, fast, and specialised. The only thing they lacked was supple plating, but they made up for it with their expendability.

Fortunately enough, the troupe had the benefit of problem solving, something that the more expendable and task focused Empire forces didn’t. And as far as GUN was aware, the only models with that kind of intelligence on Angel Island were being kept at the Launch Base Zone. But this was Lava Reef, and there were no serene pools of water and thick piping transporting rocket fuel. There were instead oceans of violent magma, thick pipes transporting molten rock and metal, and temperatures high enough to melt the rubber soles off of their boots. So they had to keep moving. It was a godsend that the layout called for a lack of doors, else this would be a stuffy adventure laden with long minutes spent trying to crack quietly through locked shutters and vaults.