Thus Did The Imperium of Mankind Fight There

Part 42

Pulling Camila out of her thoughts, the pilot called, "Ma'am, we're ready when you are." Then, the doors of the Valkyrie slid open.

Replying with a crisp, "Acknowledged" Camila for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, unlatched her seat restraints, checked her grav-chute, and jumped from the skies of Falmart.

Aerial pict-feeds revealed that the enemy significantly increased security around the South Palace after her previous success. As such, instead of landing outside the Palace, she directed her descent to land on the dome of the South Palace.

Landing as soft as a feather, she pulled off her grav-chute but instead of discarding it immediately, she fiddled with it and attached a little surprise for the Saderans — an incendiary grenade. The Callidus Temple may be known for its discreet modus operandi but that didn't mean its operatives didn't know how to make a scene.

Camila threw the IED into the very same bush where she'd thrown her previously discarded grav-chute. A fiery explosion soon consumed the brush and spread rapidly. Saderan Legionaries, alerted by the boom and the smoke, rushed to the scene and began organizing a bucket brigade to put out the raging fire.

Under her mask, Camila smirked. As if a few more bodies could stop her, she thought.

With the majority of the Saderan garrison now rushing to the main front entrance of the building, she then slid off the roof and landed behind the Palace.

New intelligence given by the very slave she'd saved revealed that there was a hidden rear entrance to the structure where the slaves entered and led almost straight to the slave hold. Her landing placed her right in front of said entrance...and on top of five Saderan guards.

Two were pinned to the ground beneath her feet and the other three were staring dumbfounded.

Before any of them could react to her sudden appearance, she swiftly stabbed the pair under her in the neck with two poisoned needles. The flash of movement jumped the remaining guards into action and roaring, they charged her with shields raised and short swords drawn.

Their battle cries were quickly silenced as two more needles flew from her hands and each into the foreheads of one of the charging men. The helmets they wore did nothing to protect them against the mono-molecular tips.

The last stabbed at her but she easily dodged the strike and drawing her dagger, slit his throat.

With that minor inconvenience dealt with, Camila turned her attention to the backdoor. Any regular civilian would be intimidated by the challenge of forcing it open. The door was made of thick boards of wood, bound together by thick bars of iron and a large lock that was likely designed with the threat of lockpickers in mind.

She strolled forward...and cut the lock with her power sword. Not every break-in had to be intricately planned or dramatic. Pulling the door open, she entered the South Palace and quietly made her way to the Slave quarters. She met no more Saderans on her path and soon, she reached her desired location.

The entrance to the Slave quarters had a similar design, only smaller. She cut her way through much like she did before and entered an entirely new world. The stark contrast between the hall she entered and the ones she passed was remarkable.

White polished marble gave way to walls blackened by years of neglect and the air that previously smelled of rare precious flowers was now damp and musty.

Looking forward she could see doors lining each side of the dark hall, lit only by a few weak torches. Muffled sobs and groans came from behind them, eliciting a twinge of pity in her cold heart.

None of the doors were labeled, and she had no clue as to which one contained her objective.

She observed her surroundings for a moment longer and she shrugged again. If she couldn't find the cell that held her goal, then she would just have to break open everyone until she did. 

Strolling her way down the hall, she sliced the locks and forced each door open. The reaction of each of the cells' occupants was one of two. Either they hurried into a corner and shuddered with fear, or they simply stayed where they sat and stared blankly ahead. 

To her annoyance, none of the cells contained the girl she was searching for until she slammed open the last cell. There, like so many others who have had the same misfortune, was a sobbing young teenage girl curled up in a fetal position. She possessed the telltale features of the humans who had arrived through the Alnus Gate. 

The girl looked up fearfully when she realized someone had opened her cell.  Her fear only grew as she bore witness to the intimidating form of an Imperial Assassin. 

"Please! Whoever you are! Don't hurt me!" Noriko pleaded in Japanese, bringing her arms up to shield her head and tucking her legs into her chest.

Camila understood the girl, having learned the language of her people before the start of the mission. Rapid language fluency and knowledge of the relevant targets of interest were after all vital for the impersonation operations of a Callidus. 

With the girl found, Camila thought of how to bring Noriko with her. With her arms and legs in the way, she couldn't swiftly knock her out; she could simply break them, but this was a rescue mission. Something more subtle would be required.

She decided to try to convince the girl to come with her willingly. Manipulating one's own voice and body language to lower an opponent's guard was an art thoroughly mastered by her Temple. Of course, such skills were normally employed with a disarming form, but watching a suited, masked woman, shapeshift would assuredly only cause further distress for her target. 

Slowly, she stepped forward into the cell. Noriko flinched back and weakly pleaded again, "Please."

Pausing her stride, Camila lifted her hands to indicate she meant no harm and lowered into a crouch. 

"I'm not here to hurt you," she said in the language of the oriental girl. 

Noriko's head shot up and she stared wide-eyed at Camila. In her pupils, the assassin could see an emotion most would not expect to be directed at a trained killer: hope.  

"Your Japanese?" Noriko asked. 

Camila shook her head and said, "No, but I can reunite you with your people if you follow me." 

Camila extended her right hand and hesitantly, cautiously, Noriko took it. 

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