Alpha Strike: [An Interstellar Weapons Platform’s Guide to Organized Crime] (Book 3 title)

"Reinforce the eastern wall! Teams three and six switch with teams four and ten — we need more range coverage on that side!" Robert's voice cut through the controlled chaos of the village.

It had been less than a day since Alpha — through Antchaser — had warned the village leadership about the bandits in the northern forest.

I'd have preferred to keep things quiet a little longer… but kinda hard to hide a plasma rifle shot, Alpha mused, watching through hidden drones as adventurers and goblins scrambled to finish their preparations.

Robert had seized on the news the moment he heard it, rallying both groups to fortify the village with little input from the others. That last part hadn't sat well with many — especially the goblins — but the looming threat of attack kept most complaints to murmurs.

Most.

"Robert! I'm telling you, we need eyes out there! We have no idea what they're doing. All I need is five good scouts." Garrelt strode after Robert, gesturing sharply with his good arm. His injury was healing, but it would still be days before he had full control of both hands. Just his luck.

Trailing behind them, Maggy chimed in. "Robert, I think Garrelt's right! Our scouts are better trained than the goblins'. If they can—"

Robert, half-listening while directing workers, suddenly spun on his heel. He leveled a finger at Garrelt, his jaw tight. "And I'm telling you," he bit out, "we need every able-body here. The bandits don't know we're onto them yet. We use this time to shore up our defenses. That's our priority."

Garrelt threw up his hand in frustration. "That's why we need scouts — before they send their own! We don't even know their numbers or their strength! It's reckless to—"

"What's reckless," Robert cut him off, "is weakening our defenses when we're already short-handed! And need I remind you why we're in this mess?!" His glare sharpened.

Garrelt stiffened.

"R-Robert!" Maggy gasped. "You know that wasn't his fault! No one could've predicted the Mud Drake would advance like that."

For the briefest moment, Robert's eyes flicked to her. The fire in them made her flinch before they snapped back to Garrelt.

A long silence stretched between the two men, thick with tension. Then Robert straightened, adjusting his armor with stiff precision. When he spoke again, his voice was flat, composed. "My decision stands. Everyone stays within the village to prepare. If you keep insisting, I'll have no choice but to detain you as a threat to this expedition." His gaze dropped to Garrelt's arm. "Which would be a shame. I'm sure you can still be useful. Even with your… injury." Though his tone remained professional, Garrelt caught the sneer lurking behind it.

Teeth clenched, Garrelt said nothing. The worst part? On paper, Robert wasn't wrong. Nearly a third of the expedition had been injured during the Kigendoro incident. Most wounds were minor, but some were more serious, and in the few short days since, no one had fully recovered. A handful were still bedridden in the doctor's makeshift hospital.

Arguing was pointless. With a frustrated growl, Garrelt turned on his heel and stormed off. Robert sneered at his retreating back before resuming his orders.

Maggy lingered between them, eyes darting back and forth. Then she cursed under her breath and jogged after Garrelt.

"Garrelt, wait!" she called, catching up.

He stopped but didn't turn. "What?" His tone was sharp, almost a snap.

Maggy flinched, then steeled herself. "Can we talk?"

Garrelt exhaled harshly. "What, gonna try to convince me that Prince Charming is some tactical genius now? He's going to get people killed, Mags."

Maggy drew a deep breath, steadying her resolve. She wasn't naïve enough to think this expedition had turned her into a whole new person — this wasn't some storybook — but she was starting to understand why her teacher had insisted she join.

As much as she would have insisted that she preferred the company of her books to people only a few months ago, she would freely admit the people she had gotten to know had grown on her.

Despite his loud personality, Bert had a way of making everyone feel included — like that big, happy uncle who was impossible to hate, even when he annoyed you.

Dr. Maria had been part of Maggy's life since she was a child, yet in just a few weeks, she'd seen more sides of the old woman than she had in years.

Even Garrelt — snarky, frustratingly carefree Garrelt — had grown on her. Because for all his sarcasm, when he acted, it was deliberate. Thoughtful. More often than not, right.

And that wasn't even counting the goblins she'd met.

Like Ms. Boarslayer — prickly, sharp-tongued, but far more intelligent than Maggy would've ever expected from a goblin before now.

Maggy straightened her shoulders. "No. I think you're right, Garrelt."

That made him pause. His anger dimmed, replaced by wary curiosity, as he turned to face her.

She met his gaze. "Robert's been… off lately."

Garrelt scoffed, but let her continue.

"I know he's under pressure. We all are. Maybe him more than anyone. This place —" Maggy gestured at the surrounding village "—could mean a lot to people back in Halirosa."

Garrelt folded his arms, frowning. Maggy raised a hand before he could argue.

"I'm not excusing him. I'm saying I understand the pressure he's under. But things aren't right. I've had this bad feeling I can't shake — like something awful is about to happen." She exhaled, staring at the dirt beneath her boots.

Garrelt rubbed his temples. "What do you want me to do, Maggy? If he won't listen, our hands are tied."

As expedition leader, Robert had the authority to overrule them in emergencies. Even if Garrelt disobeyed orders and took his scouts out, Robert could report him to the guild later — and the consequences would be severe.

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Sometimes, the pseudo-military bureaucracy of Halirosa's Adventurer's Guild irked the man to no end, even if he understood why such rules existed.

Maggy shook her head. "Honestly? I don't know," she admitted. "But I just know we have to do something. I don't know where you and Robert come from, but I'm from the slums, Garrelt." Her voice hardened as she met his eyes. "I grew up hearing horror stories about Icefinger and his men. These aren't normal bandits. If we treat them like they are… we won't make it."

Garrelt's arms fell to his sides. His frown didn't fade, but his gaze sharpened with thought. "What do you suggest, then?"

Before Maggy could answer, a third voice interrupted.

"I think I might have an idea."

They both turned as Dr. Maria stepped out from behind a nearby building.

Her toothy grin sent shivers down their spines.

——————————————————

Magnus studied the large map spread across the stone table. Their scouts had already begun filling in the surrounding area, marking out promising resource deposits. Useful, but secondary. The real priority was charting a path toward the village. Still, no harm in preparing for when the cavern was firmly in their grasp.

It had been decided that they would turn the cave and surrounding area into a small camp while they scouted the cavern and their target. Not that much effort was being put into fortifying the area. If the expedition party and goblins somehow beat them all the way back here, they might as well just give up the cavern… for now.

Magnus smirked to himself. Not like there's any chance of that.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the sharp crack of breaking glass shattered the cave's low hum of activity.

Every hand stilled. Every voice fell silent.

Magnus froze, his breath held for half a second, then slowly turned toward the back wall. His expression hardened, becoming as cold and unreadable as the stone it was made of.

There, on a rough-hewn shelf, a dozen small jade tablets sat in neat rows. Soul Tablets. Each linked to one of their scouts. They could be used for both communication… and a warning if something went wrong. A fresh crack had formed along the surface of one, splintering outward like lightning in slow motion. As he watched, the fractures deepened until, finally, the tablet crumbled into jagged chunks.

The workers in the cave edged away.

Magnus stared at the fragmented chunks. Though his face was blank, his grip on the table's edge sent spiderweb cracks along its surface. Then, suddenly;

"ARRRAH!" Magnus roared, his voice a thunderclap in the cavern's stillness. He drove his fist into the opposite wall with bone-rattling force. The tightly woven roots lining the structure buckled, and with a sickening crack, a fresh window was torn through their makeshift barricade.

His fingers curled into a trembling fist, knuckles white. "What the hell are those fools doing out there?!" His words came through clenched teeth, sharp as a blade's edge. The staff scrambled, scattering like startled roaches, none daring to meet his gaze.

"Sir, calm yourself. They're just scouts," a soft, measured voice murmured from the side of the room.

Magnus's head snapped toward the source, his glare locking onto a young man leaning lazily against the wall.

The newcomer was untouched by the surrounding tension. Long, silky black hair framed his face, and his fine robes remained utterly pristine, despite weeks spent hiking through damp caverns and tangled forests. He looked as though he had just stepped out of a noble's estate rather than a war camp.

"The Deep is a dangerous place," the young man continued, his tone unbothered. "Surely losses are to be expected? After all, that's their job."

Magnus ground his teeth so hard he swore he tasted blood. The young man — whose name Magnus was sure he had been told, but couldn't quite remember at that moment — wasn't wrong. Losing scouts was inevitable when navigating the Deep. Expected even. They had already lost two on the journey here, in fact.

But this wasn't the same.

"We've been here less than a day," Magnus growled, each word deliberate, "and we've already lost no fewer than four scouts! There's no way this place is that dangerous. If it was, Bosco's lot would've been torn to shreds the moment they set foot here."

The young man pushed away from the wall, arms folding loosely. "That's fair. But is it really that big of a deal? Does it matter?"

The veins in Magnus's temple throbbed. He inhaled sharply through his nose. "It matters because it means we're being targeted, fool!"

One delicate brow arched. "We are? By who? Surely not the goblins."

Magnus forced his attention back to the map, grinding out a slow breath to keep from strangling the imbecile in front of him. "No… this isn't how the Deep Tribes operate."

"The Guild dogs, then?"

Magnus shook his head. "If it were them, I would've heard about it."

A grin split the young man's face, sharp teeth glinting under the mosslight. "Ahhh, right. Your little… friend. I keep forgetting about them."

Magnus didn't bother responding, offering only a grunt as he refocused on his map.

Meanwhile, the young man slipped out through the cave entrance, whistling a light, almost cheerful tune.

——————————————————

"GET BACK HERE, YOU BASTARD!" Aria's scream tore through the trees like a wounded animal's cry. Her voice, once honeyed and laced with cruelty, was raw and jagged with fury.

She barely resembled the woman she had been. Her once doll-like beauty had withered into something sharp and gaunt. Her cheeks were hollow, her sunken eyes wild. The luxurious hair she had been so proud of was now hacked short, uneven, and ragged. A black cloth covered the ruined socket where her right eye had once been. Her right sleeve hung empty.

Yet despite her broken state, Aria the Threadsmith burned with a fire that refused to die.

She ran — feet pounding against the damp earth, breath ragged and fevered — as she tore through the underbrush.

Behind her, two figures struggled to keep pace. A rough-looking human man and a scaled woman with slit-pupiled eyes.

"Captain!" the man called out between gasping breaths. "Slow down! Please! You're chasing shadows!"

Aria whirled on them, eyes ablaze.

Both scouts barely ducked in time as a blade of stiffened cloth whipped through the air where their throats had been a second before.

"BE SILENT!" Aria shrieked. "I know what I saw! Its that bloody goblin! He's mocking me!"

The two exchanged wary glances.

Neither of them had seen what had got to Joshua, their fallen squadmate. One moment, he had been there — then he wasn't. But they had seen the end results, and a shadow slipping through the trees.

The scaled woman raised her hands, her voice careful. "Aria, we're not saying you didn't see what you think you saw. We just think we need to—"

"I SAID BE SILENT!" Aria's shriek was raw and unhinged.

The rough man took a slow step back. He had known Aria was unstable — always had been — but since Magnus had… disciplined her, she had become something else.

The scaled woman also stepped back—

And froze. A whisper-thin wire pressed against the back of her ankle.

Her blood ran cold.

She hadn't felt it before. Hadn't seen it. Knew it hadn't been there.

But it was there now.

The second she shifted, the wire snapped tight, yanking her upward. Before she could scream, more wires shot from the treeline, wrapping around her wrists, her ankles… her throat.

The scaled woman froze, not daring to so much as twitch, as her heart beat rapidly. She had seen how these wires had cut through Joshua like paper when he tried to free himself only moments before. She swallowed, and a thin red line formed along her throat as if to emphasize that point, easily cutting through scales harder than mortal bone.

Aria screamed. But not in fear.

In fury.

Her fingers clawed at her scalp, nearly tearing out what little remained of her hair. This mockery of her own craft sent a surge of rage through her already broken mind.

A soft crunch of leaves snapped her attention to the side.

A lone figure slowly walked from the shadows of a nearby tree. Their sleek black armor seemed to meld into the darkness to the point they would have been barely visible if not for the glowing red eye at the center of its head.

Aria's breath hitched as the figure stepped into the light. The helmet peeled away, retracting like cloth, revealing the grinning face of a male goblin.

Aria's entire body shook.

"YOOOOOOOOOU!" she shrieked, skeletal fingers stabbing toward him as if she could stab him from afar. "I KNEW IT WAS YOU!"

Antchaser's grin widened. He said nothing.

Instead, he raised two fingers in a mocking salute —

— then leaped backward, vanishing into the shadows.

Aria screeched and tore after him without hesitation, disappearing into the trees.

The rough man exhaled slowly, watching her go, then glanced up at his still-suspended companion. Their eyes met, and tears poured down the woman's cheeks, silently begging — though she dared not move even still. He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered a curse under his breath.

"Dammit all."

He gave one last look in the direction Aria had vanished… and turned back to camp. If he was quick enough, maybe he could get someone to help him free his companion before someone else got to her.

Whether they went after the mad woman after that… he didn't get paid enough to worry about that.