The natives knew the terrain well. Every dip in the land, every piece of foliage cover on the bleak landscape. They had a plan calculated. They knew exactly how long it would take them to get themselves from one position to the next. And each time, it was long enough to evade the searchlights. There were three groups of five. Arranged in a pincer movement on the isolated Stellarisien outpost. Inside there were but four young, inexperienced conscripts. There were no cities for hundreds of miles, the road leading to the outpost was less well marked than a dirt track. The Stellarisiens had no particular need to defend the position, simply a need to mark the border, have some semblance of a military presence in the area and provide somewhere for the four young conscripts to serve their exercise in boredom. Inside, no doubt, the substandard soldiers would be smoking and gambling. While one of them operated a searchlight half heartedly from the roof. This erratic searching was the only worry the natives had, a steady, constant sweep would have been easier to calculate. But that was hardly a worry. They were equipped with Ak-47’s and ancient RPG’s, bought from a black market salesman who passed through their village every so often to let them taste the benefits of the civilised world. They moved into position. Hand signals were given, and they were off. Soon they had covered the ground well and were within striking distance. An RPG on the right side was loaded and fired at the jeep parked outside the base. A fireball erupted as the explosive hit the petrol tank. The conscripts rushed outside, another RPG was fired. This one struck the roof of the outpost. Engulfing the searchlight operator in vicious flame. He screamed as the roof collapsed and he was burnt to death inside the raging inferno. The other three conscripts had their rifles raised. The fifteen natives now started calling out war cries and firing their rifles into the air. The conscripts were easily intimidated. The natives performed a bayonet charge. The conscripts lifted their hands in surrender and were taken prisoner. Meanwhile some of the natives hurriedly searched the arms store, which was adjacent to the burning outpost. Magazines of ammunition and a variety of guns were removed. The raid wasn’t a great success, they had been seeking money or precious objects. Still, prisoners could be held hostage and the ammunition could be used to attack further outposts. A Message was left behind at the outpost. Scrawled by natives unused to the written word or to the Stellarisien language.
To: Stellaris
From: The tribe
We have three conscripts. Leave money here for return. 50,000 Lunaric Liras. If no then we kill.