Red Dragon Spaceship Awakening: I Gain Alien Abilities on Mars-Chapter 224: The Snatch

Attacking the battle commander directly would definitely pose a risk of either killing him or letting him escape, and Tatehan was not willing to take that chance. They needed the man alive. He was too valuable and too important to the Obscuron’s operations to let him slip away or end up as just another corpse on the battlefield.

So instead of charging in and potentially ruining everything, Tatehan came up with another plan.

He immediately reached up and activated the comm device built into his suit, his fingers tapping the interface on the side of his helmet. The line crackled to life, and he spoke quickly, his amplified voice cutting through the noise of the ongoing battle.

"Lyra, you there?"

There was a brief pause, the sound of distant explosions and weapons fire filtering through the connection, and then Lyra’s voice came through:

"Yeah, I’m here. What do you need?"

"I need you to come help," Tatehan said, his eyes still on the fight between Bjorn and the battle commander. "The Viking’s fighting their leader right now. Big guy, heavy armor, dual-wielding a massive blade. We need him alive, but Bjorn’s having trouble pinning him down without killing him."

Lyra’s tone shifted slightly, taking on that sharp, tactical edge she always got when a plan was being formed. "You want me to snatch him?"

"Exactly," Tatehan confirmed. "Use your ability. Come in from an unexpected angle, grab him, and take him straight into one of the crafts, the one where we’ve been dropping off hostages. The fighters there can cuff him and lock him down."

There was a moment of silence as Lyra processed the request, and then she responded. "Alright, I’m on it. But I need to know where you are first. This battlefield is chaos right now."

Tatehan glanced around, searching for a landmark, something distinctive that would help her locate him quickly. And then he remembered the kinetic explosion he had just unleashed, the one that had flung twenty soldiers across the battlefield and left a wide, scorched clearing in the dirt.

"You see where that big kinetic explosion just happened?" Tatehan asked. "The one that left a clearing?"

There was a brief pause, and then Lyra’s voice came back, slightly breathless. "Yeah, I see it. That was you?"

"Yeah. Bjorn’s fight is about thirty meters east of that clearing. You can’t miss it."

"Got it," Lyra said. "Give me a few seconds."

The connection went silent, and Tatehan turned his attention back to the fight.

Bjorn and the battle commander were still locked in their brutal exchange, their weapons clashing with enough force to send shockwaves through the ground. The two of them moved with a kind of raw, primal intensity, their strikes heavy and deliberate, each one designed to overwhelm and destroy.

Bjorn swung his warhammer in a wide arc, the weapon humming through the air, and the commander blocked with his blade, the impact sending sparks flying in every direction. The force of the collision made both of them stagger, but neither gave ground. Bjorn roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield, and he followed up with a swing of his axe, aiming for the commander’s exposed side.

The commander twisted, his armor scraping against itself as he moved, and he brought his blade up in a defensive parry that deflected the axe just enough to avoid a fatal blow. The blade skidded off the edge of the axe with a metallic shriek, and the commander used the momentum to spin, his own weapon coming around in a vicious counterstrike aimed at Bjorn’s neck.

Bjorn ducked, the blade whistling over his head, and he slammed his shoulder into the commander’s chest, driving the man backward with the sheer force of his bulk.

The commander stumbled, his boots sliding in the dirt, and Bjorn pressed the advantage, his warhammer coming down in a crushing overhead strike.

The commander rolled to the side, the hammer slamming into the ground where he had just been standing, and he came up in a crouch, his blade raised, his breathing heavy but controlled.

It was a stalemate. A brutal, exhausting stalemate where neither side could land the decisive blow.

And then, suddenly, the battle commander vanished.

One moment he was there, his blade raised, his eyes locked on Bjorn, and the next he was just... gone. Sucked into a swirling black hole that had opened directly behind him, the void collapsing in on itself the instant he disappeared.

Bjorn froze, his warhammer still raised, his head snapping around as he searched for the man. "What the—?!"

Another black hole opened a few meters away, near one of the Skyblades, and Lyra stepped out of it, dragging the battle commander behind her. The man was disoriented, his weapon still gripped in his hand but his balance completely thrown off by the sudden teleportation. Before he could react, before he could even process what had just happened, two of the fighters guarding the Skyblade rushed forward and slammed him to the ground.

Magnetic cuffs snapped around his wrists and ankles, the restraints locking with a sharp, final click. The commander struggled, his voice rising in a shout of rage and frustration, but the fighters held him down, their weapons trained on him, their expressions hard and unyielding.

Lyra straightened, brushing dust off her armor, and gave a quick nod to the fighters. "Lock him down tight. He’s slippery."

And then she vanished again, another black hole swallowing her whole as she returned to the battlefield.

Bjorn stood there, stunned, his helmet tilted slightly to the side as he tried to process what had just happened. He looked at the spot where the commander had been standing, then at the Skyblade where the man was now being restrained, and then he threw his arms up in frustration.

"The man has teleportation powers?!" Bjorn shouted, his voice thick with disbelief and annoyance. "How the hell was I supposed to fight that?!"

Tatehan jogged over, a grin hidden beneath his helmet, and he stopped beside the Viking, his amplified voice carrying a hint of amusement. "He doesn’t have teleportation. That was Lyra, one of my fighters. I called her in to snatch him while you had him distracted."

Bjorn turned to look at him, and even through the helmet, Tatehan could tell the man was processing that information. And then, slowly, Bjorn started to laugh. It was a deep, booming sound, full of genuine relief and appreciation.

"You clever bastard," Bjorn said, reaching out and clapping Tatehan on the shoulder with enough force to rattle his armor. "That was brilliant! I was about to crush his skull just to end the fight, and you went and pulled him right out from under me!"

Tatehan grinned. "Figured it was better to keep him alive. We need the intel."

"Aye, we do," Bjorn agreed, his tone shifting back to something more serious. "Good thinking, lad. Really good thinking."

They stood there for a moment, catching their breath, the sounds of the ongoing battle still echoing around them. But the momentum had shifted. The Obscuron’s forces were breaking, scattering, their command structure collapsing now that their leader had been captured.

And then, just as they were starting to relax, thirty of the opposition soldiers came charging at them from the left flank, their weapons raised, their voices rising in a collective battle cry.

Tatehan and Bjorn turned to face them, their bodies shifting into combat stances almost instinctively. They exchanged a glance, and even though neither of them could see the other’s face, they both knew the other was smiling.

"Shall we?" Tatehan asked, his chakrams already spinning in his hands.

Bjorn hefted his warhammer, his axe gleaming in the light, and his grin was audible in his voice.

"Aye."