All around the complex, dark shadows stirred around corners and various out of the way places, skittering, dancing and whipping about. Each movement so small and obscure that the normal human eye could not follow or observe. Those guardsmen on patrol who were alert enough to notice only find no traces of any activity or movement upon investigation, the mistaken sights and sounds of industry disguising any tracks and evidence, almost literally chasing ghosts with the slightest fidget of the peripherals. The clank and clatter of metal grates would occasionally catch the attention of passing soldiers but again, only the shadows loom over them like a dark shroud, even as the Mirandan daylight sun beats down upon them.<br/><br/>No one suspected. Who in their right mind would strike this deep into the upper hives, to target such an important structure normally out of reach to any who seek it harm? Doubts abound, all suspicions faded into chaotic confusion when the first explosion rocked the facility.<br/><br/>The backup generators. At two points in the room, significant combustions of volatile energy sent the delicate machinery and unsuspecting personal into disarray. Those who survived suffocated or burnt to death from the molten plasma that oozed out of their tanks. Equipment and raw material melted and exploded violently in secondary explosions that proceeded to demolish what was left of the room, turning it into an uncontrollable crematorium of death and destruction.<br/><br/>Seconds after, several power substations were sent flying into the air. Electricity and flames consumed all that came within contact with, killing dozens of those too close to the epicenter. Black smoke and a plume of hot gas shot up into the winds, passing over a vehicle depot and setting it ablaze. Fuel trucks and stations added to the already out of control inferno.<br/><br/>The barracks was next. The concrete building's rooftop blew upwards like a deadly volcano. Shadows of bodies and weapons followed the expanding cloud of fire, a gruesome fireworks display of the deaths of the dozens that were unlucky enough to be inside the building. Only charred cadavers remain as they hit the ground in a splattered heap, not a shred of flesh left uncooked and seared to the bone.<br/><br/>The communications center. Obliterated into chunks of screwed metal, dishes and burnt stonework from several internal explosions.<br/><br/>Wall sections. Infrastructure. Operating vehicles. Groups of personal. Seemingly at random places and at random times, as if their world was ending right before the terrified eyes of the men and women that work and defend the complex, a silent unseen foe striking down at them with merciless fervor.<br/><br/><div align="center">----------------------------------------</div><br/>The first detonation. The signal. It was time.<br/><br/>Sawtoof signalled silently to his fellow kinsmen, who all gave him a confirming nod. His kommando flamer lit his weapon and stood ready, as their sergeant punched the button. In a flash of red and grey, the charge did its work, sending the tunnel wall crashing down before them, sending out huge plumes of dust and smoke. As ventilation here was near nonexistant, visibility dropped to zero, as well as within the room beyond. Within moments of the wall coming down, his kommando flamer quickly stepped forward and pulled the trigger, an enraged beast set loose as the jet of hot death coughed to life. Beyond the ringing of his ears, he could barely hear the sound of the flamethrower letting out its deadly roar, accompanied by the sounds of its gleeful owner's laughter and the sounds of screaming. Humie screaming. The smell of putrid sewage turned into one of exhaust, spent fuel and cooked meat. The once cool atmosphere that he so detested turned comfortably hot and sweltering. Conditions were just the way he liked it, and he knew his kin liked it too.<br/><br/>After his flamer had done his work and stepped back, the rest of his squad stormed into the room and picked off whatever survivors they could find. The area had been devastated by their sudden breach and flame, the area he was told to be the central security control room, where the complex' security operations all were coordinated. All the staff had been burnt to a crisp, the servitors and the guardsmen laying about melted and smoldering, some of the petrified ones even still holding onto their expressions of surprise and sheer horror. It seemed that they were quick enough to perform this phase of the plan. The general alarm had not been sounded yet and the element of surprise still held.<br/><br/>He spotted a humie nearby, seriously injured with a piece of metal lodged into his shoulder and parts of the wall section pinning from the waist down. From the broken, charred and bloodstained armor, he could recognize him as a fighting humie, one of the 'guardsmen'. He was shivering and twitching, struggling to keeping himself alive at any cost, his arm was even reached out towards some machine connected to the wall. It was too far to reach, obviously, but the humie tried anyway. Sawtoof did not harbor any pity to the man and he was a little disappointed. He wished they could at least be a little less fragile and show some fight. Every one of them he had encountered and surprised so far did not seem to survive long enough to be of any sport to him.<br/><br/>He stepped closer to the wounded and helpless humie and the stomp of his massive foot on the wall section that pinned him caught his attention. The guardsman looked up, sputtering out blood, still stunned and shivering. He cocked his enormous heavy stubber and aimed it at the pitiful man's head at point blank.<br/><br/>"Surprise, humie...." He coldly grumbled, pulling the trigger. Blood and viscera flew everywhere. He then turned to his nearest kommando, not bothering to wipe himself off, "Make sure da humies don' eskape. Find der main kontrol konsole and lock all da doors. All of dem."<br/><br/>The rather small soldier stomped off and almost immediately found it not far from the carnage, shielded from the flames by a thick wall. After stabbing the hapless civilian there, he stepped over to the console and went to work, surprisingly skilled in punching in computer commands in humie language. Having been in so many conflicts, he had a lot of practice and experiance with humie tech, thanks to the 'nurturing care' of the tech crazed mekboyz. Soon, all doors within the complex were locked, inclusive of the main gates and the inner gates of the main generator room.<br/><br/>The main objective was now within reach. It was time for Khazthrull to make his move.