Richardson barely felt himself being dragged by the legs across the grass. He had a vague idea that he was conscious, but really still felt like he was sleeping. The sunlight shone through his closed eyelids, creating a almost majestic white background for his semi-conscious mind to dwell.
His head ran over a rock and quickly brought him back to his senses. His legs were shoved down onto the ground. His hands were bound by plastic restraints. He struggled against them with his returning strength, but to no avail. His chest suddenly became heavy and he began coughing violently.
"Alright, that's all of them," a voice said. "On their knees, on their knees."
Richardson was tugged by his shoulders onto his knees, as per the man's orders. Richardson stopped coughing long enough to keep his eyes open and observe the area.
All the marines on scene, including the three scientists, were lined up across the clearing. Directly across from them, a dropship had landed and a separate line of the horse detainees had been formed. Men clad in what looked almost identical to the riot control gear used by Colonial Militia were patrolling the area or maintaining the lines. What struck Richardson as odd was that the men were in a completely different camouflage than what was appropriate for a forested area: Digital Arctic.
A single man stood out amongst the others. He wore little more than a few plates of armor on his front and back. Judging from the fact that he wasn't doing any of the heavy lifting, it was easy to guess that he was the leader.
"Well then. Good job, boys," the man said. "I figured the Marine Corps would have figured a way to filter the gas by now, but it's of no real concern now."
"Who in the hell are you?" Wesner said a few meters to the left of Richardson. "Some executive asshole, obviously."
"Captain, who I am is of no importance whatsoever. I am just a man," he replied.
"Spare me. Weyland-issue gunboats? Armed bodyguards? I don't know anyone else who would have that besides Michael Weyland," Wesner rolled his eyes. "I thought you were confirmed dead a decade ago after a ship wreck on Aegis."
"The military actually cares about my personal life, eh?" Weyland grimaced. "No. I'm still alive and kicking. The SSI always never really do particularly well in their field of work."
"This planet is under exploration of the EarthGov Expeditionary-" Nelson said from Richardson's right.
"Oh, I know. That little tidbit of information made sure I wasn't coming here to a fight," Weyland said. "Suffice to say, I know everything EarthGov told you and more. Much, much more."
Richardson had begun to zone out again. The gas didn't seem to have completely cycled from his body and the effects of it was still in effect. Before he could fall asleep, a guard hit the back of his head with the butt of a rifle. Blood dribbled down Richardson's neck.
"You will release us, including the horses, now." The look on the Captain's face was stern and cold. "You are overstepping your bounds, Weyland."
"I am not restricted to your 'bounds', Captain, nor EarthGov's." Weyland kept a relatively stoic expression amidst the severity of his actions. He walked over to the largest white equine, which was still unconscious. "And these things are going to make sure it stays that way no matter what."
"What are you even talking about?" Wesner grunted, making one last futile attempt to free himself from the restraints. "If you know as much as I do, then you should remember that there's nothing on this planet you can use. All ore and minerals on this planet are worthless."
"This isn't about petty corporate squabbles over natural resources, Captain." Weyland sighed. "It's about the advancement of Mankind. The hope of a new future."
Wesner rolled his eyes. "Oh good God in heaven..."
"You already know what I'm talking about, Captain. Don't pretend like this isn't important," Weyland said irritatedly. "These things have what the ancient civilizations of Man only dreamed of."
"If you're talking about-"
"I am."
"Then you should know that we have no way in hell of getting that ourselves." Wesner also somehow was keeping his cool, given the circumstances.
"But we already have." Weyland's smirk turned into a white smile. His expression conveyed all the pride he had towards whatever they had accomplished.
"Sir, what is he gibbering about about?" Nguyen asked.
"The fool thinks that he can get magic like the horses use for himself," Wesner said. "I don't buy any of it."
"Ten years with nothing to do but study them helped us along significantly." Weyland shivered. "I still get chills thinking about it."
"Sounds like an interesting story. Unfortunately, you're about to shoot us all," Wesner said.
"Not all of you," Weyland chuckled. "Men, free Dekowski. Welcome back to the loving arms of the Weyland Corporation, Sergeant."
Two of the bodyguards sliced the restraints off of Dekowski's wrists. "Good to be back, Mr. Weyland. Squad Three is ready for your orders."
Most of the men lined up and bound were freed at the sergeant's prompting. There were around a dozen of them before this sudden betrayal, but now there were only seven of them left: Nguyen, Richardson, Wesner, Nelson, and the scientists. Something didn't quite add up to Richardson, though. Where were Friedman, Jenkins, and Hendricks?
"Alright, Dekowski. Kill them and let's get moving. The rendezvous point is at site Alpha and Squads Four through Six are already there and waiting," Weyland said.
"Understood, sir." Dekowski nodded.
"Keep the larger white pony alive and stow her in the cargo area. Terminate the rest."
"You motherfucker," Nguyen spat. Dekowski grabbed the sidearm off one of Weyland's bodyguards and pointed the muzzle to Nguyen's forehead. He unceremoniously pulled the trigger and watched at Nguyen dropped backwards as the bullet impacted.
The rest of the men under Weyland's command aimed their weapons into the line of targets, ready to terminate at their discretion. Dekowski moved onto a scientist to his left and killed him just as suddenly as Nguyen.
Before he or any other person could fire another round, a small cylinder smashed itself into the back of Dekowski's head and plopped onto the grass. As he reached back to soothe his new lump, the cylinder detonated.
A brilliant blue ball of ionized energy sent him, two of the bodyguards, and the bodies of the recently deceased hurdling into the forest. Amidst the sudden confusion, rapid-fire gunshots began to fill the air. Men raced towards the gunship in hopes of finding some sort of cover as well as to get their lone hostage packed up. Weyland was nowhere to be seen.
Three fully-armored marines stepped out of the brush, firing selectively at their foes. Rounds that managed to hit them were deflected easily by the reinforced titanium carbide plating. The bastions dropped one guard after another as they inched their way closer to the gunship.
The detained in their lines, however, were not faring as well. A few of Weyland's forces must have decided that it was best to kill as many of the prisoners as possible in response to not being able to kill their attackers. The equine guards closest to the gunship were quickly offed as was one of the remaining scientists.
One of the marines came running over to the hostages, knife drawn. He cut plastic binding's of their wrists as the last of the Weyland guards lost morale began to retreat into the gunship.
"Here you go, sir," the soldier said, slicing his restraints. Nelson recognized it to belong to Jenkins. The enemy gunship had started its engines with a deafening roar, kicking up dust and debris as the they scorched the vegetation underneath.
Another set of boisterous engines could be heard coming closer from the east, but they seemed to be of a different pitch and decibel. All the remaining riot troopers had managed to board their gunship and the landing pad began to retract as it lurched meters high in the air.
"They're getting away! Transport Seven, tail them and bring it down!" Jenkins shouted through his helmet mic.
"Belay that, Private!" Wesner ordered. "The pony leader is in that gunship. We're not going to kill our only avenue for diplomacy."
"Belay that, Transport Seven. Belay that," Jenkins said quickly. "Sorry for coming in late, sir. We tried to get everyone mobilized as soon as we could."
"No time for that, Private." Wesner said, snatching his helmet from the top of the negotiation table. Nelson and Richardson did the same. "We need to follow them and secure the pony hostage."
A transport zoomed over the heads of the marines with a crack of a sonic boom. Heading, it seemed, to follow the Weyland corporate gunship.
"Transport Seven, where the hell are you going?" Wesner yelled over his com.
"Not us, sir. According to the transponder, that was Squad Seven's transport." the pilot said.
"Damn it. They've already mobilized." Wesner muttered. "We need to know where they're going. Search the bodies for anything that might give us a clue. Nelson, make sure everyone is loaded up into the gunship in the next ten minutes."
"Yes, sir." Nelson saluted.
Richardson turned over one dead body guard after another, searching for any sort of datapad, document, or other device that would help find the destination of Weyland. He stumbled across Nguyen's body slumped onto his back and staring at the sky.
"Damn it, Nguyen..." Richardson muttered, restarting his search.
"Found something, sir," Jenkins said over the com after ten minutes of searching. Most of Squad Two and the lone Doctor Carsiri were loaded and waiting on the transport.
"What is it, Private?" Wesner asked.
"Data disc, sir. Gives a location of Wyland Corporation troop deployments."
"Bingo. Give it here, Jenkins." Wesner outstretched his hand and Jenkins tossed it over. He plugged it into a datapad and keyed the disc's data to appear onscreen.
"Permission to speak, sir?" Jenkins asked as Wesner sifted through the data.
"Granted."
"How- Why did our own guys betray us? How did this happen?"
"They never were one of us, Private." Wesner paused. "I don't know or understand why, either. But I'll be damned if I don't beat that answer out of Weyland when we catch up to him."
Jenkins nodded and shifted around as the Captain continued.
"There. Look's like their 'Site Alpha' is located at the south pole of the planet," Wesner said. "Huh. Break out the snow shoes, Private. We're going skiing."