Starpath: Scoundrels of the Interstellar Highway - Thread 2
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The Second Gen brute was shot to pieces, each squeeze of the trigger blowing away bits of metal and skin that had been fused together through surgical means. He crumpled to the ground, dropping his sledgehammer. Meanwhile, the Freak that had managed to get through and gut one of the Vultures with its bladed claws decided to turn Archangel into its primary target. The other two focused on the rest of the group in the mean time.
The Freak charged Archangel, letting out a roar which sounded more like nails on a chalkboard than anything. Its talons were ready, intending to carve Archangel into scrap metal.
The regular cultists that had acted as footsoldiers were thinned out now, a few stragglers being put down. The looming figure in the back, noticing that his brothers and sisters were being dispatched rather quickly and efficiently, grew silent and decided to step away. Into the darkness beyond their flashlights. It moved with grace, traversing the dimly lit innards of the massive sphere with speed almost like that of the Freaks. On its way to warn its fellow First Gens that they had guests aboard.
As well as to inform their Messiah at the core of the Sphere.
The freak pounced on Archangel, knocking the android to the ground. Before it could dig its claws into him, he extended a blade of his own. The wristblade shot through the creature's neck, nearly severing it as the attacker went limp. Archangel kicked it off of him and got back on his feet.
"Everyone alive? Holler if you're dead."
"One dead, sir."
"Unfortunate. No time to mourn, we move in further inside. That robed one could talk so he can be interogated, try and capture him alive, but be on the lookout for anything our hosts might have prepared for us. Golems, you take point."
The team moved further into the ship's insides, the flashlights offering little comfort to the mass of darkness surrounding them. The sound of sillence being broken as the ship's functions could be heard.
As they moved deeper and deeper into the Sphere, they found what the cultists had been dealing with prior to their arrival. There was a mass of corpses, blood and guts scattered about. All had been shredded, ripped apart and apparently being fashioned together with bits of cybernetics and metal. Creating new, 'better' beings. The smell was horrendous, even moreso than the sight of the pile itself.
Further inward, they would pass from the outer shell of the Sphere into the outermost portion of the core. Winding hallways, large rooms filled with bodies of victims claimed prior to the crew of the Thermopylae. There was a room where weaponry that had been captured were stored, arranged on a table apparently to be examined and repaired to functioning order. Plasma rifles, rocket launchers, flame throwers, even heavier weapons like Upyri anti-vehicular railguns and what looked to be a man-portable particle beam cannon (though heavily damaged.) It seemed to be of Ayr origin, which meant that the Cult was now breaching into Ayr space. This wasn't good at all. It meant that the cult was now expanding into different parts of the galaxy instead of just the southern quadrants.
There were [URL="http://orig11.deviantart.net/dce4/f/2016/232/3/d/3d296287e0557546a0eef821cb6bbef6-daenp0v.jpg"]strange cultists[/URL] moving about the rooms. Silent, ignoring their presence as they studied corpses, machinery, and weaponry alike. They seemed like the taller robed one they had encountered before, but wore simple red garments. They also seemed to levitate a bit, floating quietly around. Were they scientists? Workers? Who knew? They didn't seem all that interested in their guests.
Pressing on, the sounds of machinery grew louder, along with a variety of other noises. Most disturbing and ominous.
The Cataract touched down at the landing zone as planned, and all seemed quiet in the frigid night. The ramp extended, revealing the crew in its fully-ready state. Yanim, dressed head to toe in batakya gear, raised her rifle above her head as she straddled the wasteland hoverbike. "Let's get em'!" she yelled with overflowing zeal. Time to be heroes. They rode down the ramp and blasted into the open field ahead, the glow of electric lighting beyond the next hill alerting them to the base's location.
Elsewhere, Iska stood by with her artillery brigade, watching the action through half a pair of binoculars.
---
Orok slowly peeked his head out of the hole, peering down at the militia scout vehicle which had just pulled up to the entrance to the yard. It came to a halt, its headlights blinking and turning dim as the engine was cut, and for a while it sat motionless. Relieved, Orok climbed out of the water heater and shuffled down the slope, avoiding the jagged scenery as he headed for the yard’s office. If the militia needed one of their trucks serviced, then Nyck could probably handle it.
The hatch popped open; Orok almost ignored it as he wasn’t expecting anything aside from one of his own clansmen returning from the patrol route, but something shimmering in the near-darkness caught his eye. Turning, he finally caught sight of the kanad, smoothly descending the side of the vehicle, a metallic tail swishing in the wind and catching the scarce light of the scene. It glimmered with a sinister grace. For a moment, Orok thought he was looking at Yanim as she stepped into the light of the headlamps, casting a frightful gaze down the length of her shadow towards the distant bunker, until she saw a glimmer in the darkness. As their eyes met, something made Orok realize that this wasn’t a friend, and he was in great danger.
He didn’t even notice that he was still carrying the steel bar he had used as a pretend gun just minutes earlier, but as he realized that its faint shine had given him away in the dark, he dropped it in a panic. An entire childhood of fearing and hating the domov invaders came flooding back, striking fear into his heart, and the tough, profanity-laced act he put on earlier that evening evaporated. Suddenly he was a child again, and when she sprinted towards him, he took off in terror as fast as his young legs could carry him. His mind clouded by fear, he had forgotten about the hazards of the yard all around him, and he tripped and stumbled, falling into a pile of snow and broken glass with a yelp. Before he ever would have believed possible, she had caught up with him, leaping into the air and dropkicking him back into the ground, slicing him with glass again. Orok screamed. Beta laughed.
Bubal was sitting in his office, drinking a glass of Orlok as he was going through a book of maintenance schedules. He briefly looked out of the window to see a militia patrol vehicle roll into the yard. He also noted the shadow of what he assumed to be Nyck, greeting the soldiers who operated the vehicle. Not giving it a second thought, he returned to his ledger.
Suddenly, Nyck opened the door with a cigarette in his mouth. Bubal looked up from his book again, “[What did those guys want with the truck?]” he asked.
Nyck raised an eyebrow, “[What guys?]” he replied when a child’s scream could be heard from deep in the yard. Bubal looked out of the window again to see the truck still standing on the same spot where he saw it last and then looked at Nyck who knew immediately what was going on. As Nyck dashed to his locker to grab his rifle, Bubal grabbed a pistol from his drawer and pushed a button on the wall.
“[I’m going to find Orok and whoever the fuck else is here. Check out that truck and wait for the militia at the gate.]” Bubal instructed, setting off into the interior of the scrapyard.
As Nyck opened the back door to the patrol vehicle, he sneered and tightened the grip of his rifle. The men inside weren’t just dead; they were mutilated. It reeked of burnt flesh, and the interior panels were dripping with blood from wide splashes, as if they had been chopped to pieces where they stood. This wasn’t some ordinary domov trap, this was something else entirely.
Beta had pulled Orok from the ground when she was finished kicking him, wrapping her claws around his throat and gripping him with her tail, a sort of hydro-mechanical nightmare of an appendage with two overlapping blades. The bodily fluids of the slain militiamen still dripped from her clothing as she dragged him deeper and deeper into the yard, leading a crimson trail through the white snow. Inadvertently, she pulled him onto the roof of an old rail car which groaned under their weight and that of the piled-on snow. All at once it gave way, and as they crashed to the ground. Orok, recognizing where he had landed, immediately scrambled on his hands and knees to escape through an open window he knew was waiting for him. But Beta sprung to her feet behind him, her tail blades slashing at the boy just as he lunged for freedom and knocking him back to the ground with a deep gash in his side.
“Nice try,” she mocked, and Orok, like Vixe before him, heard the difference in Beta’s voice which separated her from Yanim. “You know what happens now.” Beta drew her pistol, but as Orok screamed for help again, something kept her from ending him. She grinned broadly at her work as she watched the boy bleeding on the floor of the train car. “You poor little thing,” she said. “Why did you have to look so closely? Don’t you know trouble when you see it?”
“I mean not to!” Orok moaned between terrified sobs. “You- you look like-”
“Whaaat..?” Beta hissed, leaning in close with her blades extended before her. Orok forced himself to look away, unsure of why he had to, but unwilling to question his captor. He summoned all the courage he had to answer her.
“You look like friend of Iska, b-but you are monster! I don’t want to die, domov! Go away, go away!” he cried out, writhing in pain on the ground as Beta loomed over him.
“I see; you’ve met my twin…” Beta mused, slimily. Orok nodded, his eyes tightly closed. Beta lowered her weapon as she took a step backwards, her bloodlust settling into the icy calmness she had shown to Vixe. “Tell me where Yanim is, and I’ll let you live. Lie to me, and I’ll show you what my ancestors did to your people.”
“She go with hired guns to Vostokrebh, free militia from domov! Took motorbikes and trucks, is all I know…” he strained. “She not here! I tell you all, let me go!”
“Hyeh hyeh hyeh hyeh! I said I would let you live, sepyazab! All that means is that I won’t kill you before you die on your own, my little toy, and you’re well on your way already.”
“I no want to die!” Orok screamed.
Beta walked in a circle around the child, leaving footprints behind in his steadily growing pool of blood. “Stay scared, boy. Your heart is beating so fast, now. It won’t be long. It won’t be long, sepyazab… Look at me again and I’ll show you something you’ve never seen before, something that will take the pain away.”
Orok felt himself growing weaker, a sense of doom crawling over him which warned of his demise. He opened his eyes and turned his head to face Beta.
“Have you ever seen a kanad’s face? Have you ever seen what we look like, under these masks?” Beta’s fangs shined like a hundred knives. Orok said nothing, tears rolling down his cheeks as he awaited the inevitable horror. Beta’s tail extended, its blades stopping just short of closing on the boy’s neck as his captor took hold of her mask, pulling it free. “You called me a ‘monster.’ How right you are.”
Orok let out a whimper as his heart pounded, his life blood gushing out onto the floor next to him. She was right; the fear was killing him faster. As the pressure fell, his brain was deprived of oxygen, and he felt a peaceful sensation rising through his urge to fight on. He knew he was already dead. His hands reached out on either side, feeling for his mother’s embrace as he lost his grip on the world around him, and through the bitter cold of Rigel he could feel the warmth…
A jeep drifted into the yard and two militia soldiers jumped off and jogged towards Nyck, “[It better not be rats chewing on your power lines again]” one of them quipped.
Nyck pointed into the patrol truck as they walked up to it, “[You know some kind of rats that do that, shithead?]” he said as he pointed to the bloody mess in the trucks interior. Both the soldiers reeled back slightly as they uttered several profanities under their breath.
“[Domov’s do this?]” one of them said after a brief moment of silence.
Nyck shook his head, “[I don’t know, but we’re about to fuckin find out.]” he replied in a low tone. A whistle broke the silence, and the trio immediately took off in its direction.
From where Bubal stood at the edge of the gaping maw in the side of the scrap pile, looking down on Beta and her latest victim, he couldn’t tell that Orok was already bleeding out. As he signaled for the others’ attention, Beta snapped around and saw him looming over her, shining a flashlight on the gruesome scene. “Let boy go,” he urged with a slow but assertive tone.
Beta calmly reattached her mask and inspected Bubal’s weapons and stance, judging his readiness. “I remember you,” she said mysteriously. “You’re too late, by the way. He’s already dead.” As she replied, Nyck and the two militiamen arrived at the train car and lined up behind Bubal, clutching their weapons at the ready.
“Drop gun or we shoot, blyatnio domova!” one of them barked as now four guns were aimed at her.
“[We can still save him,]” muttered Bubal, almost to himself as opposed to Nyck.
Beta casually pulled her pistol out of its holster with a look of annoyance. “What did I just say?” she spat, apparently understanding what Bubal had said as she unloaded a plasma round into Orok’s chest, blowing the ribcage open. A chorus of shocked screams punctuated the demonstration.
“Strelayet ablyatni shtukiya!” Bubal screamed as the entire group unleashed a hailstorm of bullets towards Beta, who grabbed hold of the roof of the train car with her tail and propelled her whole body upwards into the air in an acrobatic spin, shrieking with demonic laughter as they failed to hit her. As she flipped, end over end, her old “Valkyrie” pack extended, flashing with an eerie blue light as her feet touched the ground, an impossibly graceful landing for such a maneuver.
“Make this fun for me,” she taunted, pulling a pin out of a canister on her hip. A cloud of black smoke erupted with a bang, and the kanad disappeared into the void, apparently beckoning her pursuers to follow her as she retreated elsewhere into the yard.
"Stick together and keep moving."Archangel said as they walked through the gallery of horror. "Don't do anything to attract more attention to us. They may look like easy targets, but they probably serve other functions." He pressed a button on his wrist. "Specter, you should be recieving a feed from me. Can you confirm."
"Hold on, boss...Yeah, we're getting it. About a minute delay but we're getting a clear picture...It's not exactly a good thing."
"Focus. We need you to keep this footage just in case."
"Don't need to tell me that twice. Countess however emptied the contents of her stomach on the floor." A slight chuckle could be heard. "You ok, rookie? ...She's fine."
"Countess, if you're going to work under me, you need to pull it together."
"...Yes, sir."
Kobold aproached Archangel. "Hey boss. You think we can crack one of those open?" He said while pointing towards the floaters. "You said we may need one of those alive. We can use it as a sample."
"Do it, but be carefull. Team, form up and keep an eye out while Kobolt does his thing." The team formed a perimeter arround the hacker as he began to work. Using the holo tool and his implants, he began to crack open the cultist's firewalls. The floater stopped in it's place and began to twich in throws and screams before shutting off entirely.
"Nevermind then." The hacker commented nervously "Lets keep going."
Iron revved the engine of the rover and put the pedal to the metal, catapulting the vehicle down the ramp and into the snowy field. He chuckled and glanced over his shoulder. "You okay back there?"
Meanwhile Karl moved his skiff to the right flank, keeping watch for any possible threats that might hope to strike the group in the side.
"Hold on tight." Amy revved up the engine of her bike before shooting down the ramp into the snowy fields below.
---
[QUOTE]You okay back there?[/QUOTE]
"Could use a cupholder. Other than that, we're fine."
Taylor's and Valk's bikes zipped down the ramp behind the others, Valk's significantly louder than Taylor's almost silent scout bike. Behind Valk and Taylor on their bikes were two of Valk's recently built combat drones. The only two she brought. The rest were back on the Cataract in case they needed to assist the others. Valk clamped down on the cigarette in her mouth, making sure it didn't fly out in the wind. She hoped this job went smoothly. She didn't feel like dying again.
Meanwhile Taylor was rather focused. This operation had to be quick and clean. No fuck ups. Valk had managed to repair what she could of Taylor's armor prior to their trip out to the junkyard, so she was now wearing the [B][I]'TBC/VALKYRIE CUSTOM EDITION'[/I][/B] as Valk put it. She had to admit, it did feel a bit different. A bit lighter, and painted in the TBC colors mixed with a few accents Valk herself added. She didn't care too much for those, especially the [B]'IRON BITCH'[/B] stamp on the lower back of the armor.
- - - - - - - - - - -
As Archangel's crew moved through the dim hallways, they heard what seemed to be a whisper in the dark. [I]"Visitors? And not my bretheren? How wonderful!"[/I] said the voice faintly. Almost as if he was afraid to truly be heard. Something shifted in the darkness, moving around the group rather swiftly.[I] "Guests usually never make it this far into the divine sphere...you must be the ones that Seven mentioned. And it seems he was right...there is an enlightened one amongst you."[/I] The voice seemed to let out a sigh, then continued [I]"Pity you decided to remain at the side of your unenlightened comrades instead of joining the ranks of the divine. Like me!"[/I] [URL="https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/006/049/495/large/nivanh-chanthara-test-228.jpg?1495656699"]The figure then emerged into the dim light before them.[/URL] [I]"I used to be what you would know as an Ayr. Yes, rather strange isn't it? One of a race that look down upon cybernetic enhancement and those that choose to partake in them. But as you can see...I didn't share those views. And look at me now! I find myself having accended to a higher plane of existance. Immortality is mine, as well as true peace. No fears, no sorrows...needs or wants...well, I do maintain one want. To assist my Ayr bretheren in achieving immortality...and assist you, should you wish."[/I]
Two more figures could be heard approaching, before they stepped into the light as well, flanking the former Ayr. [URL="https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/006/059/811/large/nivanh-chanthara-test-229.jpg?1495730893"]These tall, hulking...things[/URL] seemed to have what appeared to be a gun attached permanently to their left arm, while the right arm was like that of the Freaks they had fought before. [I]"My formerly Khergian friends here...they would love for you to join us as well."[/I]
The whisper of the creature had managed to take its toll on some of the Vultures. Cold beats of sweat had began to drip down, the hairs on their neck were standing up. Whatever this thing was in a past life could not be recognized. The only evidence it was once Ayr, was its deceptivly inocent voice ringing inside their head. One had to wonder, what modifications could enhance or twist the Ayr's natural abilities and to what extend. All were on edge, exept their stoic leader
"Analasys complete." Archangel reponded in a cold robotic tone "Logical conclusion dictates that you have retained your personality after heavy modification. Evidence of this is the fact that you are still the most obnoxious creature here despite previously mentioned modifications."
The team formed up arround their leader, the Khergians in the front, itching to let loose. The rest of the vultures behind them, preparing for the worst. Even Kobolt was looking for ways to hack into his enemies.
"I believe my men have an answer to your offer. To maintain moral, I have to oblidge them, you understand. However, you are more valuable to us alive, so allow me to extend a counter-offer. The one I serve has similar goals to you. Come with us peacfully so we can examine you, or I'll drag you to him kicking and screaming."
[I]"Kicking and screaming? Oh...you wouldn't like it if I screamed."[/I] said the former Ayr, tilting its head a bit. [I]"You wonder why I talk like this? So faint, innocent...child like. There's a very good reason for that."[/I] He paused for a moment, before righting himself. [I]"It is sad that you feel the need to decline my offer for you to join willingly...and I am going to have to decline your counter-offer as well. I have duties here...aboard the divine sphere. Duties such as assisting my fellow first borns. You understand."[/I] The larger cultists behind him stepped closer. [I]"Your corpses will still make fine additions to our family."[/I]
The being then turned his metallic gaze to one of the Khergians. The one that had been laughing before during the earlier fight. [I]"You will be first."[/I] he said softly.
The Khergian began to feel his head pulse with pain. Dropping his weapon, he tried to get a grip, while staggering arround. The others tried to piece together what was happening. What they couldn't see or hear, was the sensory overload he was experiencing. Images and flashes we're filling his eyes while sound and fury was destroying his ears from the inside. He dropped on his knees, the once proud warrior reduced to whimpering and begging for it to end. The mercenary suddenly froze up, save for the few odd twitches here and there and collapsed on the ground. In a span of several seconds, his mind was shattered and the contents of his skull were nothing more than mush.
The sight was enough for two of the Vultures. They turned arround and bolted towards the Buzzard's direction. That did not sit well with Archangel, who shouted in their comms. "GET BACK HERE, YOU COWARDS!" It had little effect. Those two were gone into the dark maw of the Sphere. The android could see the vitals of his team go balistic with fear of what just happened. Heart-rates jumping up and down. If he didn't do anything, he was going to lose a lot more.
The cultists weren't standing arround doing nothing in that time. The large ones we're begining to move forward towards them. Plasma weapons ready to fire. His men began to scatter for cover as one bolt hit him in the shoulder. The hydraframe absorbed the hit and was begining to reform, but sustained fire would mean the end of him. He ran for cover before he could sustain any more serious hits. "Are you just going to let you brother lay there unavenged?" He shouted towards the Khergians, trying to get their bloodlust going. "Are you two such cowards that you would leave him like that? No wonder you were sent to a penal legion. All size and no bite. Pathetic!" It worked. The two began to focus fire on the cultists while their leader began to get a hold of the rest. "Bring those fuckers down! Kobold, I want that asshole sillenced for good, hack him and tear his voice apart!"
[video]https://youtu.be/BsuQ5RtDfOE[/video]
There was a moment of pure chaos. Somewhere in his memory, the Vigil commander could 'feel' a familiarity of this kind of situation. Gripping the stock of his shotgun, he exited cover to deliver a round of plasma of his own.
The plasma blast from Archangel's shotgun managed to clip one of the TSC Khergians, blowing some of the metal bits off his shoulder and a chunk of the bone-like material off its face. Still, it kept on fighting, charging and slashing at Archangel while the other took on the two normal Khergians alone at almost hand-to-hand range. It swung its large right hand at them, slashing open armor, and sometimes nicking the Khergians as they fought it off.
Meanwhile, Kobold attempted to hack into the TSC Ayr, as he moved towards them. Looking for his next target. Soon enough, he was successful! As he began looking for ways to take down the former Ayr, the being spoke again. [I]"I never did tell you my name, did I? I am known as Five...the fifth person gifted a new step in evolution from our Messiah..."[/I] He then noticed that one of Archangel's crew was screwing with some sort of device...then he could feel him attempting to modify something in the TSC Ayr's cybernetics.
[I]"Ahhh...you think you can simply hack me and be done with me? I think no--[U][B]AAAGH!!![/B][/U]"[/I] was all the being was able to get out, before clutching at his chest. [I]What had this insolent filth [B]DONE!?[/B][/I] He felt another sharp pain in his chest, which was inching its way across and up his neck. He looked to the Kanad, his metallic eyes seeming to give off a look of rage.
[highlight][I][B]"YOU DISGUSTING WORM. YOU WILL PAY FOR DESECRATING MY MAGNIFICENT BODY."[/B][/I][/highlight] it said, seeming to fly over towards Kobold in a flash. It grasped the sides of his head, lifting him up off the floor. He struggled, flailing his arms and legs, as he gazed up into Five's eyes. A moment later, he wouldn't be able to flail [I]anything at all.[/I] In a loud, thunderous boom, Five unleashed his fury upon Kobold in the form of an obliterating psionic burst. Everything below Kobold's neck was ripped away, splattering and smearing across the floor of the hallway in a disgusting mess. His head was all that was left, resting between the hands of Five.
He lifted it up with one hand, examining it, before tossing it aside. [highlight][I]"Worthless."[/I][/highlight] he said simply, before disappearing into the darkness. He needed to tend to the damage in his form...lest he drop dead while serving his lord. Meanwhile, the TSC Khergians continued to try and kill Archangel and the others, bent on their total annihilation.
Sting was pumping around in her seat while taking a swig from her flask.
She smacked her lips and and put it away, "Now, I need to tell y'all that I wunt listen so good. I just need to know when we get to start shootin." she said with a grin while pulling out one of her revolvers.
"That thing is escaping. Don't let it get away!" The Vulture leader ordered as the TSC Khergian grabbed him by the leg and pulled. The android collapsed on his back on the ground. The large cultist kicked the shotgun away before grabbing him by the neck area, lifted him up and started to slam him on the cold metal floor, denting it. Like a displeased child, smashing an unwanted toy, the brute kept slamming him. After a few times, the body stopped thrashing arround trying to escape.
Lifting him up one last time, he looked closely at his pray to see if it was still functional. To the cultist's surpise, Archangel's head jerked and they were now face to face, the helmet's visor glowing red as if he was trying to burn a hole through his skull. Before he could react, an armored gauntlet had already wrapped it's fingers arround his lower jaw and pulled. The sound of flesh and metal being torn apart was followed by howl noone thought possible. The creature staggered back from the shock and dropped his prisoner.
"Take it down, now!" The order came and Vulture 5 took aim. The armor piercing bullets went through the cultist's skull, leaving holes on both sides The body made a loud thudd when it fell to the ground.
The team's attention turned towards the last remaining Cultist, currently tackling the two remaining brothers. Armor was beeing rended to pieces and blood was drawn as the fighting had escalated to a full on mellee brawl. Getting a clear shot was next to impossible due to it.
"Sir, what do we do?"
"Give them a minute."
One of the khergians let out a bloody roar as he collided with the cultist shoulder first and knocked them both on the floor. The augmented one tried to slash his foe to get him off, but his arm was stopped by the other brother. With a growl he put a boot on the shoulder and started to pull. This distracted the cultist long enough for the first brother to get up and grab the other arm. They both started pulling their respective appendage. Bone cracked, flesh teared and metal screached as they pulled the arms off their enemy. They werent done however as they began to use said arms as weapons to bludgeon him to death. By the end of it, the cultist's head was nothing but a pulp of bone and metal. With a triumphant roar, they declared their victory.
Archangel picked up his thrown weapon before returning his attention to the team. "We're down to half strenght and we lost our target. And our hacker is dead. Tactical analasys doesnt give us good chances, so I'm calling this off. Return to the Buzzard."
As Archangel finished talking, a voice spoke up nearby. [I]"You managed to scare off Five? Impressive. He's not known to run away during a conflict. Especially against those he wishes to convert."[/I] said the voice, before Seven appeared from a nearby room. [I]"You said that the one you serve has similar goals?...take me. I surrender."[/I] said Seven, as he stepped further into the dim light near them. He had shed his robe partially, revealing red plates on his arms and long claws on his hands. He wore part of a hood, as well as what seemed almost like a butcher's apron around his waist.
[I]"Your organic friends could very easily beat me to death if I do anything, so I will not struggle. But please allow me to proceed with you unassisted."[/I] he stated, as he walked over near Archangel and the Khergians. A few moments later, there was an inhuman roar deep inside the Sphere. Seven heard the noise, looking off into the darkness. [I]"I suggest we return to your ship quickly...Two is coming."[/I] he said, his attention returning to Archangel. His tone serious. A moment later, the life signs of the two Vultures that had ran off blinked offline. Dead.
As soon as the red SEMRS VTOL touched down onto the landing pad on the roof Vega and her team sprinted towards it while carrying a stretcher with Wayford on it. Around them the rest of Vegas team, SIG close protection agents and SDF Army troopers were on the lookout for any possible threats in the air. A pair of medics grabbed onto the stretcher and reeled it in. "What's his condition?" Asked one of them while the other made sure that the stretcher was secured inside the aircraft.
"He's stabilized but we don't know what knocked him out in the first place. Someone had slipped something into his drink." Replied Vega as she and the rest of her team got onboard.
The medic nodded. "Understood, we'll let the hospital know." Vega nodded in return and looked at Khan. "Sir?"
"Wayford is going to need all the security he can get. I'll send along two Army fireteams to back you up at the hospital. We already have four SIG agents on-site and they have locked down the upper levels of the intensive care ward, now go." Vega nodded and strapped in.
Slowly the VTOL began to ascend into the clear skies above a half-sleeping Terranos. Down on the council chamber roof Director Khan and Chief Reyes were busy organizing the joint security efforts over comms and next to them two fireteams with four SDF soldiers each were quick to board two Hawk VTOLs which in turn took off almost immediately.
Vega looked at Wayford who was being tended by the medics. She then looked at Callahan with his look of worry. She realized that this was the first time in her life she felt truly worried of what was about to come.
-----
Far up in orbit above Terra a unremarkable cargo ship entered the system following a jump from a unknown location. The grey- and yellow-colored ship quickly descended into the upper atmosphere and vanished among the clouds. Minutes later a smaller ship appeared, descending towards the heart of Sol.
Watching the tiny holographic icon approach the objective marked in red Kingslayer leaned back to get an overview of the all the tactical screens. Local news broadcasts, weather reports, traffic information, SISP radio chatter and, most importantly, feeds from the helmet cameras of his team.
A notification on a smaller screen on the side notified him that the plan had been executed as ordered by their contact on the ground. He smiled and sent the rest of the credits to the bank account provided.
Using his left hand he adjusted the microphone on his headset. "Kingslayer to Warlord. Operation is green, you may procceed as planned."
[i]"Warlord acknowledges, we're five mikes out. What's the status on local QRFs, over?"[/i]
Kingslayer observed his screens and quickly skimmed through logs from the local radio chatter. "Warlord, expect Sierra India Golf and Sierra Delta Foxtrot close protection units at the designated target zone. Minimal civilian presence. You're weapons free."
On the other end of the comm line a very sinister laugh could be heard.
[i]"Roger that Kingslayer. Butcher can barely wait to get started. Warlord out."[/i]
"You" Archangel turned to the three Vultures. "Take point and go towards the ship. Golems, guard the flanks. I'll handle the back." He looked back at Seven "Follow them and dont even think about running away." The team started to run back from where they came. The sounds of of whatever was behind them echoing throut the ship. "Specter, prepare to leave. One guest is enough, we dont need more of them."
He glanced back while going through the halls. The sight of the freaks barreling down on them made him pick up the pace. "Move it! There are at least fifty of them behind us." It got worse as they noticed them on the walls, using their claws to get a hold on it's surface. One of them managed to jump on Vulture 2, sending it and her over a railing down to the bowels of the ship. There was no time to stop. They had to keep moving or risk getting torn apart. The clattering grew louder and louder as they passed the tunnel as the cultists started to breathe down their necks. The sight of the ship's ramp was one of relief, unfortunetly it didn't last long. As they were running up, some of the feaks began to climb on board. The ramp lifted up before more could get in, crushing a few as it did. The ones that go on board started to wreack havoc. Slashing and trying to stab the crew with their metal claws. It was only through carefull appliance of the surviving team's fire power that managed to hold them off.
The ship took off as the last shot was fired. Archangel turned to Seven once more. "If you have any sort of tricks, you'd be smart to forget about them. You will be under my watch at all times, understand me?"
The cultist simply gave him a glance. [I]"I understand completely, my brother of steel."[/I] said Seven, a slight nod following his words. His eyes moved from Archangel to the others, then around the room before returning back to Archangel. [I]"If you wish, I can simply find a place to sit till we arrive wherever your master is. Unless you wish to have me just stand in a corner somewhere like a coatrack."[/I]
- - - - - - - - - -
The Freaks watched as the ship departed, before slowly returning back to where they came. Leaving [URL="https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/006/159/075/large/nivanh-chanthara-test-233.jpg?1496436802"]a smaller, feminine cultist[/URL] standing alone. She glanced back, as she heard another figure approaching behind her. [I]"Did everything go as planned?"[/I] asked the figure, his voice sounding older and much more rough than the others. [I]"Seven did exactly as our lord instructed."[/I] replied the female. Her voice seemed to have almost a hiss to it, especially as she pronouced Seven. [I]"Good...I was afraid your toys would shred our guests before they were able to return to their vessel."[/I] said the male. He stepped up beside her, folding his arms. [URL="https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/006/120/180/large/nivanh-chanthara-test-232.jpg?1496178475"]He was much taller[/URL], with blade-like spikes jutting from his head and shoulders. He glanced down to her with his only eye. [I]"They're not exactly the most gentle of creatures."[/I]
The female looked up to him. [I]"They did as they were told, One. You underestimate my control over my hounds."[/I] She then turned and started to walk back into the Sphere. [I]"Two?"[/I] said the male, forcing her to pause. [I]"What is it?"[/I] she asked, looking back. [I]"Check on Five. Then, our lord wishes for you to lead an expedition into Kanad territory for more recruits."[/I] he said, before looking back out into space. [I]"It would be my pleasure."[/I] she said, her tone almost jovial. She then continued on, disappearing into the blackness of the Sphere. One stayed put for a few moments, staring off into the depths of space before returning into the Sphere himself.
"Make yourself at home. I'll just make sure to keep an eye on you...brother."
The ship set course to Gibel. For the duration of the trip, Seven wouldn't move an inch without Archangel watching him. And yet, that did little to ease the tensions and fears the organic part of the crew we're feeling by just looking at him. For the first time in weeks, the Starving Buzzard was completely quiet.
As the APC rumbled down the roadway toward Stanazyp, it was clear to the passengers inside that the normal militia patrol wasn’t on its standard guard; they had been expecting some sort of resistance by this point, but as of yet there was nothing. Paired with the seemingly random killing of a UGC driver at the pass, Ryvik worried that he and his team were being lead into a trap. To use a cliche, it was too quiet.
“[Got anything on radio chatter?]” he finally asked.
A comm tech had his ear to the local radio signals, automatically decrypted using a high-end comm system. He nodded, listening closely to the khergian voices crackling through on the airwaves. “[...something about a murder…]” he said, translating the local language on the fly. “[...It’s a kanad woman, bladed tail. It’s gotta be her.]”
Ryvik’s mouth hung open. He was neither pleased nor displeased with the news. It was more that the weight of the mission was beginning to add up. His sister was close by, and he was closing in at last. But it didn’t make sense. A murder? He was convinced that Yanim had come to find Iska here, not to cause trouble, and if the random killing on the road through the pass was in any way related, then she would have had to come from the wrong direction. But then he remembered the doppelganger, and a chill ran through him. “[Hurry it up, then!]” he snapped at the driver.
---
[video=youtube;YuWfCmbo0Hk]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YuWfCmbo0Hk[/video]
The search in the yard was frantic and rage-fueled. The khergians stomped their way through the dangerous obstacles in their path, whipping their flashlights over every patch of shadow in hopes of catching the monster. They tried to cover for each other as well, as Beta’s incessant, deranged laughter lashed at them everywhere they went, ratcheting their frayed nerves up to 11. As they hunted her, she seemed to be hunting them back. Sudden flashes of plasma exploded on the ground and debris nearby, terrorizing the stragglers as the group plunged deeper into the yard.
Sometimes they stopped and fired erratically in the direction they believed it had come from, but Beta disappeared again and again, like a vicious poltergeist. They somehow knew she was missing them on purpose, turning their fury into her entertainment, and slowly they began to recover their wits. They went back-to-back and scanned their surroundings, not letting each other be vulnerable from behind, but by this time they were at a point where the various paths through the yard converged, and every possible way out provided ample cover to the enemy. “[We’re in a fucking basket,]” Nyck spat, his anxiety palpable. “[She could snag us from anywhere.] Bubal and the two militiamen replied with grunts and nods as they looked around and drew the same conclusion.
“Where’s Iska!?” the kanad’s voice screeched from somewhere in the dark vicinity. “Tell me, Bubal... is she safe? Hyeee-hyeh hyeh hyeh hyeh!~” Before Bubal could issue a reply to the nasty threat, there was a clang as something hit a metal surface nearby- a grenade.
One of the militiamen noticed it first, screaming, “[Oh fuck, get down!]”
The group split up as they scrambled to get away from the grenade. The militiaman who had originally spotted it ran up and kicked it, sending it sailing away into a pile of scrap before using the remainder of the fuse timer to duck behind a large steel plate nearby. With a thunderous explosion the scrap pile erupted, sending jagged pieces of metal and glass flying in all directions and adding to the shrapnel danger. Unfortunately, the second militiaman wasn’t protected enough and suffered a gash to his lower leg. With the injury fueling his rage, he got up and frantically tried to locate the enemy.
“[Show yourself, you little bitch!]” he yelled into the void, his eyes focused on a darkened corner a bit further up ahead.
“Hyaaaahh!” The Kanad’s shrill voice let out a bloodcurdling scream as she catapulted herself from a nearby blown-out car window and latched herself onto the back of one of the militiamen. In a single thrust, she slit his neck with a razor blade hidden in her cuff before he grabbed her and threw her away, not noticing the torrent of blood draining from himself until he suddenly felt too lightheaded to stand. Bullets whipped through the air as Beta rolled across the ground, springing backwards as soon as her feet were under her. Bubal’s gun needed reloading, but a large-caliber round from Nyck’s rifle struck the kanad in the shoulder armor with a burst of sparks, throwing her off balance. While the other militaman was holding closed the wound of the first, Bubal vaulted them both in a flying leap. He would take any chance to strike at Beta while he could!
Beta lifted her head in time to witness the charge, planting her feet and facing the attack head-on. Bubal raised his weapon, but with the cartridge empty, he grabbed the stock instead and swung it at Beta with an awesome force. Dexterously, Beta put up a guard with her hands to block the blow. And while she did catch it, the strength behind it was so immense that it knocked her backwards and into the air, her feet skidding along the frozen ground as she fought for traction. Bubal closed in, raising his rifle for another attack, yet Beta was undeterred. The kanad had more tricks up her sleeve, and would spring her traps one after another.
Just as Bubal was about to strike, Beta preempted the attack by pivoting off her back foot, slashing her tail in a rising arc. Bubal had to alter his attack on the fly to deflect the tail with his rifle. Instead of clubbing Beta from above as he planned, he was forced to strike at the blades like a batter against a baseball pitch. The two weapons collided, and then again when Beta spun the opposite direction and attempted the same attack again. Bubal expected it, and smashed it away with his increasingly-damaged rifle. With her attacks deflected, Beta let out a frustrated “rah!” and stepped back, launching herself at her opponent with a flurry of rising knees and kicks. Bubal initially sought to grapple her, but when he briefly caught her boot with his hand it nearly sliced his fingers off- as the cantilever heels were actually discreet blades. He cursed and ducked backwards, nearly getting sliced in the face by the next kick.
Sensing an opportunity to finish off Bubal, Beta hurled herself into the air, rocket-assisted, so that she was above him. With a somersault, she swung her tail’s bladed edge down towards the khergian, who yet again lifted his rifle in defense. The scissor-like blades plunged hard, but perhaps because she had become so enthralled by the fighting, Beta misjudged the distance and as a result, the tail ended up tangled around the gun. She hit the end of her slack, rebounding awkwardly toward the tangled weapons, planting one foot on the rifle with the intent to springboard off of it. “Dutztkamik!” Beta hissed.
Bubal took advantage of the situation first. Grabbing the tail by its hydraulic control tubing, he yanked Beta down to the ground, slamming her, and she bounced on the hard surface with whiplash. It was enough to ring Beta’s bell, but Bubal wasn’t finished. He quickly snapped her up and propped her against a container wall, with her head being on the same level as his and her feet off the ground. He held down her tail with one foot and pressed his rifle against her chest, steadily pressing the air out of her lungs and crushing her ribs as she struggled. Beta screamed, her eyes wild like a cornered animal’s as pain corsed through her. She took advantage of her only opportunity, lifting her legs to continuously kick and knee at her opponent’s head and ribs, but she couldn’t twist enough to use her heel’s blade.
With each blow, Bubal’s eyes began to glow faintly with a reddish hue, until he finally let out a loud roar and headbutted Beta with tremendous force, breaking the lenses of Beta’s mask and cracking the outer shell wide open. She let out a wincing gasp as she dizzily fell to the ground. Bubal stumbled backwards, also dazed by the excessive force in his attack, and in his double vision, he could barely tell the difference between the black-clad kanad and the shadows around her. As he tried to regain his senses, Nyck came running up to his side and aimed his rifle at Beta, naively believing he could discourage her from making any further moves. He hadn’t seen her without her mask, as Bubal had, and believed that she would be helpless without it, like a normal kanad would be. But the fight wasn’t even close to being over.
Beta willed herself off the ground, howling defiantly, and in a whirlwind spin, her already red-hot tail burst into flames as it came around again. Bubal, growing sluggish from the fighting, reluctantly stepped in and swung his gun as he had before, but was caught unprepared as the now-scorching blade sliced into the barrel like a knife into butter, ripping it loose from his hands and flinging it away. Nyck by this point was so close that it proved to be counterproductive, and the apprentice mechanic was struck by a quick backhand as Beta spun to the ground, springing forward across the ice toward her pistol, which she picked up in mid-roll before leaping from the ground, rocket-assisted, and tackling the other militiaman. A jittering sound accompanied their collision as Beta lifted a chain she had just found in the snow, and with savage aggression she wrapped it around the soldier’s neck like a noose, pulling her VRI, and aiming for his face.
The pistol clicked without firing as the coils hissed- out of plasma, thanks to her earlier harassment of her pursuers. Now holding the chain as if it were a dog’s leash, she slung it into her tail while expertly reloading, jerking the soldier toward the ground in the process and causing him to fire his rifle into the dirt. The others, close enough to intervene but unsure of how to stop the brutality they were witnessing, were caught flat-footed as the end section of the tail began to spin at high speed, wrapping the chain tighter and tighter around the soldier’s neck and drawing him closer to the makeshift blender that awaited him. He screamed for help, but Beta had finished prepping her VRI and brought the sights down on Nyck, who could only leap out of the way just as the plasma burst crackled into the air beside him like lightning. The militiaman called out to Bubal for help just as the blades reached him, his agonized screams echoing into the night air as the whirling blades minced his face and head into a pulp.
“Is that all you’ve got!?” Beta roared as blood trickled down between her eyes, a mixture of her own as well as others’. Pieces of her mask flaked away in front of them, revealing a face which was evil beyond words. “At this rate I’m gonna kill the whole village by sunrise… [I]Starting with sekadera...[/I]”
Nyck, suddenly remembering the unspent rounds in his rifle, brought himself out of shock and tried to raise his rifle, but Beta fired first and shot the gun right out of his hands. He staggered backwards, but Bubal held his ground and stared the monster in the eyes. Beta placed her sights on his head and smiled. “Auv-sha,” she said with a grim smile. [I]Goodbye.[/I] Suddenly, there was a loud rumble and a crash in the near-distance, the sound of a vehicle plowing its way through the chain-link fence which surrounded the property. Beta reflexively turned, just for a moment, snapping back as soon as she realized she had let her guard down. Bubal had already leaped forward, and she frantically fired several inaccurate shots which failed to slow him down, only one or two managing to clip the enraged khergian.
Now wheeling backwards to get more distance, Beta found herself ensnared by her own diabolical design. Her tail was entangled in the chain and the bloody stump of the militia soldier’s neck, the rest of the corpse now acting as a sort of hellish anchor. Bubal closed in, grabbing a rusted gravity bike from the heavy metal debris and hoisting it above his head, his eyes glowing red and his hot breath creating puffs of steam in the cold air. With a roar, he brought the bike down like an axe, trying to crush Beta in a single blow. Having been dumbfounded by Bubal’s strength, she didn’t move until it was nearly too late, diving to the ground as far as her anchor would allow her to. Frantically, she reached around to her backside and tried to disengage the tail from her computer pack at the base, but before she could, Bubal had come around from the side of the crushed bike and punched her in the back of her head, flooring her.
Now straddling her, Bubal hung over her and threw a punch each time she had begun to lift her head, knocking her back down again. With a step to the side, he threw a final right hook, a devastating finisher, and hit Beta square in the face. He sent her tumbling through the snow, separating her from her VRI, and for a fleeting moment there was stillness. His rage still burned hot, but with his opponent putting up no resistance, it was fading. He waited for her next move, and it came with a turn of her wrist. Bubal watched her as she finally uncoupled the tail, freeing herself from the literal deadweight behind her, and with savage willpower, she somehow found the strength to stand again. She didn’t even try to run; there was a bleakness in her painted-on smile. Whatever evil joy she felt for the death of others, it was enough to sustain her through the destruction of her own body.
She flicked her wrist, sending the hidden razor blade into her palm as she lunged for the khergian, aiming for the throat. What happened next made her jaw drop.
Bubal blocked the knife, letting it pierce right into his wrist and running aground in the bone. While Beta gasped at the display, Bubal gripped her hand with his wounded arm and her shoulder with the other. Nyck watched on with a mix of fervor and fear as Beta’s eyes turned fearful for the first time, using her free hand to jam her claws into Bubal’s eyes, but the brute merely lifted his head up and out of the reach of his diminutive opponent and looked down on her with disgust. He roared, and she screamed; there was a loud crack as her arm was dislocated from the shoulder and the elbow simultaneously. He threw her back to the ground and towered over her, but he was forced to address the blade still embedded in his arm.
With a grimace, he pulled his arm free from Beta’s razor, inspecting the wound while breathing heavily through his teeth. Beta squirmed backwards, searching for her VRI in the dark while cradling her wrecked arm. She hadn’t gotten anywhere by the time Bubal decided to end things. He reached for her, and she launched one last desperate kick, trying to catch his face or neck with the sharpened heel, which Bubal, in his rage, had forgotten about. It cleaved deep into his upper chest and shoulder, all the way to the bone. Blood rushed forth, but it wasn’t a fatal blow. Now, it seemed, the fight was well and truly over.
Bubal grabbed hold of Beta and lifted her horizontally over his head. With a triumphant roar, he brought her down hard, smashing her against his knee and crushing several of her ribs. With a loud, agonized gasp, Beta grasped at the air in front of her with her one functioning arm, delirious from the pain. Bubal tossed her aside like a ragdoll, and after taking a few deep breaths, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell forward like a plank, hitting the ground with a soft thud.
Nyck emerged from behind his cover with his rifle at the ready. Aiming towards Beta at first, he strafed over to check on Bubal. The latter was out cold, and Nyck knew he needed to stop the bleeding. As he bandaged the major wounds, he picked up a pistol from one of the dead militiamen and stuffed it in his belt. As soon as he knew his friend was safe, he would deal with Beta and finish the job, while she was still incapacitated. Tying a bandage with one hand, he pulled out his communicator with the other.
“[Eh, boss…]” he began, taking a pause to breath to calm himself as he looked around at the bloodbath, “[We’ve got some trouble at the yard. I need you here, now!]”
Before the response could come, the sound of a dozen OBV rifles charging filled the air. Nyck froze, raising his head in disbelief to find the gallery of GKVR operatives aiming down at him, clad in their black and gold armor, glaring visors concealing cold malice. The apparent commander pointed at Nyck. “[Keep your distance or we’ll be forced to shoot, khergian!]” his metallic voice warned in Kanad. A second operative served as a translator. “[She’s the one we want!]” Ryvik continued, desperately trying to keep the situation under control while he had the chance. It was too hard to tell whether he was looking at his sister or the imposter.
In fact, nobody could tell in the darkness that Beta was withholding an ace throughout the entire fight.
((Big thanks to Radley for helping me write these last two scenes and for the stuff we're still working on.))
Captain Trudy Smith, leader of the SDF marines deployed to the surface of Gargas, removed her helmet and a took a breath of fresh air. Holding her helmet under her right arm she used her left while barking out the next orders.
"Corporal! I want that hill marked and prepped as an LZ. We're bound to get alot of visitors soon, take as many as you need."
The corporal nodded and gestured at three other marines and two Upyri soldiers. "You're with me, let's go!" Following suit the other soldiers followed the corporal to the marked hill, one of the few areas left intact during the battle, and began to clear out minor pieces of debris that could get stuck in VTOL engines while also setting out the markerlights.
Meanwhile Smith observed the area around her. The shield dome was still up however it was brighter than before. She didn't know how they had done it but right before the burning wreckage of the Creed flagship collided with the ground the shield had grown, absorbing the defense lines and the generator structure. As the ship crashed into the shield its already damaged hull was completely shattered, encircling the dome with debris and violent chemical fires of which some were still burning at the very top of the dome.
Left with little time to react the Creed forces outside had either been crushed, blown up or sent into full retreat.
Now Smith watched as her marines and their Upyri counterparts calmly escorted the civilians out from the shield, leading them through safe passages around the larger pieces of debris and into the several fortifications hastily set up to form a perimeter. While the soldiers were busy securing the area and marking LZs support aircraft and fightercraft circled the area.
---
[i]"Captain Marshall and Colonel Vedok, this is Captain Smith of the SDF marines. I'm happy to report all-clear on the ground. Repeat, all-clear on the ground. Civilians are secure and we're awaiting transport, over."[/i]
Marshall smiled. "Understood Smith, good job. We'll send some birds to get you and your men. I'm sure the Upyri will be thrilled to hear about the civilians. Marshall out." He turned towards the bridge officers.
"Navigation, get us into lower atmosphere. Prepare support units. Comms, make sure Vedok is up to speed."
"I'm already up to speed, Captain Marshall, but thank you for your assistance in this." said the Colonel, as he approached Smith on the ground. He had landed shortly before with a group of Upyri Marines, as his vessel began to deploy more dropships to assist in the endevours on the ground. The Creed forces that had managed to retreat after the ship debris hit were being mopped up a few miles out by Upyri fighters and bombers.
"[Lieutenant, please make sure that the wounded are tended to.]" he said to the officer following him, who saluted and broke off from his group with a detachment of Marines and a few corpsman. The other Upyri forces that were landing nearby via dropship were setting up operations posts, and were beginning to assist in the cleanup. Once everyone was out of the dome, it was shut down, and the debris that fell from it was cleaned up as well. It seemed that the Gargas operation had been overwhelmingly successful. They had suffered some losses, but victory had been claimed. Vedok smiled. If the rest of the war went like this, the Creed stood no chance.
- - - - - - - - - - -
[QUOTE]Elsewhere, on the far western side of Federation space...[/QUOTE]
"[Lieutenant Colonel Anora Cortus, this is the final straw. You disobeyed a direct order to capture those pirates and turn them over to the proper authorities. Instead, you decide to kill every single one of them without hesitation. You have been told before to cease your...[B][I]barbaric[/I][/B] actions and behave properly. If this continues, you [I][B]WILL[/B][/I] be stripped of your rank and command, and sentenced to twenty years aboard a maximum security prison vessel. Do you understand me?]" stated the man on screen, his tone blunt and stern. Anora simply stared at the screen, her head resting in her hand as she sat back in her captain's chair. The man looked more uncomfortable after a few moments of silence, her icey eyes locked firmly onto his. "[B][I][WELL!?][/I][/B]" he finally blurted out. "[...I understand you perfectly, Councilor Neuhaeuser.]" she said finally. "[Goo--]" he managed to get out, relaxing before being abruptly stopped when Anora [I]continued[/I].
"[But I will continue doing exactly what I have been doing. And you will not stop me.]" stated Anora. The Councilor looked confused. "[Excuse me?]" he said, sounding almost offended. "[You heard me, Councilor. I shall continue killing these pirates. Each and every one of them. It is my duty as an Marine...and as a daughter of Ker.]" Anora sat forward. "[Councilor, I was born and raised under the banner of the Upyri Federation, and grew into a young woman who wanted to serve the people of the Federation with every fiber of her being. But then, I was taught my ancestry. My true heritage, as an Upyri and as a daughter of Ker. The heritage you and every other piece of Hemerian garbage attempted to wipe from existance. You destroyed our navy, you ravaged our armies, you slaughtered our leaders, and you tried to break our spirit. You use us to protect the Federation from the Renegade Quadrant. To train and equip your armies. To build your ships. We have been reduced to being a simple tool to you. Eventually, the time will come where the people of Ker will remember their former glory. And they will want it back, just like me.]"
The councilor remained silent, dumbtruck by her statements. "[Councilor, I kill my enemies in the name of Ker. Not you or the Federation. And I will continue to do so with or without your approval. Do you understand [B][I]me?[/I][/B]]" she said. The councilor didn't know what to say, his expression remaining the same. A daughter of Ker? [I]The same people that had killed billions during the Division War, and had reduced planets to dead rocks?[/I] Anora spoke up again after a few minutes. "[...Actually, I have a better idea. Lieutenant? Step forward.]" she said. The councilor watched as one of Anora's bridge officers stepped on screen. The one that had tipped the Council off about Anora's actions. Anora stood, drew her pistol, and fired a shot into the Lieutenant's head. The round practically exploded upon entering the woman's head, bursting it in magnificent fashion before her headless corpse crumpled to the floor. The councilor jumped with the shot, as blood splattered all over the place. Anora looked back to the screen, her eyes locking onto the councilor's again as blood and brain streamed down the side of her face. "[Consider that my resignation. I am leaving the Federation, with [I]my[/I] ship. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do elsewhere. Goodbye, Councilor Neuhaeuser.]" she said finally, before the signal was cut.
Moments later, the UFS [I]Ramlethal[/I] would warp out of Federation space, proceeding deep into the Renegade Quadrant.
A UGC guardsman, an ahra-phi, sat in the security checkpoint at Vostokrebh. It was the night shift, when traffic in and out of the base was at a minimum, and so he was able to lean back and waste the night away listening to Terran bubblegum pop and reading trashy visual novels. Outside, there was a low rumbling sound, a bit like thunder or the sound of heavy wind; he disregarded it and it soon quieted down again. His radio chirped.
"Two in, south... night patrol unit four," a voice droned. The ahra-phi stretched his many arms. [I]Not important,[/I] he thought as he settled back into his chair. Another voice replied from within the base- "patrol confirmed." A few minutes passed by uneventfully, until he happened to glance up from his tablet and catch the silhouettes of two kanad troopers marching in from the cold. He quickly sat up and killed his music feed, enabling the external speakers. It wasn't all too common for soldiers to return on foot at night.
Yanim and Arkadam approached the station, with Arkadam taking point as he at least knew the routine the kanad SS practiced, and he hoped he could bluff his way through. On a small screen next to the speaker equipment, he could see the ahra-phi staring at him, and did a quick kanad salute in response. Yanim stood by to intervene, in case some memory from her less-noble years could come in handy.
"Spaska, ahraphes," Arkadam spoke into the speaker.
"...[Present identification,]" the guardsman replied. There was a blinking light next to the microphone with a small scanner beneath, well-worn from years of use. A camera directly overlooked the panel, like an ATM. Yanim frowned under her helmet; there wouldn't be any chance to hack or otherwise mess with the reader without getting caught. Arkadam held out his left arm so that the wrist was pressed up against the reader; he had witnessed soldiers use this method while boarding ships, years earlier. Sure enough, a small flap was flicked open using a magnet within the reader, exposing a small infrared port. After a moment of silence, the guardsman sighed.
"...[Problem receiving your identification.]" The ahra-phi's Kanad language skills were clumsy; Yanim and Arkadam glanced at each other knowingly as they realized he was reading from a script. If he didn't understand the language properly, then using a creative lie would be more difficult. "[Your name and movement authorization number, please.]"
"[I didn't understand that,]" Arkadam said. "[Say again.]"
"...[Name and movement authorization number.]"
Arkadam turned to Yanim, shrugging and motioning at the speaker box theatrically. Yanim understood what he was trying to do- by tricking the guard into thinking there were technical problems, they might induce him to simply open the door and speak with them face to face. After all, he clearly seemed to believe their costumes.
CH Estimate: 2/5
[B]Actual: 1[/B]
Roll Failed.
"...[Final warning, present identification or state your name and movement authorization number.]" The ahra-phi, sitting inside his tiny guard shack, was becoming more skeptical of this isolated scout unit. If anything, he was starting to wonder if they were sent by command as a test, given that a UGC driver had been randomly killed, earlier that evening. He certainly wasn't going to break protocol to let these two in at this point. Meanwhile, Yanim was becoming more anxious. This was only the first step of the attack, and if they failed, everyone would be in much greater danger. It was too late to change strategies; if they tried something else, then it would be clear that they had understood him the first time.
"[We can't understand you, there is too much static,]" Yanim said, pounding on the speaker box a few times with her fist, shaking little clumps of ice out of the nooks and crannies.
CH Estimate: 2/5
[B]Actual: 3[/B]
Roll Failed.
"[Wait here. I am calling for assistance,]" the voice replied. Yanim and Arkadam looked at each other fearfully- once the base police arrived, there would be no chance of catching Vostokrebh by surprise. Yanim sent a direct message from her implant into the crew's comm system.
"We've failed to avoid detection, prepare to attack immediately!"
[B][Mission Update]
Current Objectives:
✔ Arrive at the drop zone
✘ Enter Vostokrebh without alerting the enemy
* Force entry into the command center
Future Objectives:
* Locate and arm the prisoners
* Break out of Vostokrebh
* Rendezvous at Stalnazyp[/B]
Karl emerged in the horizon on his skiff. His rifle was sitting inside his lap and the safety had been turned off an hour ago as the crew had approached the base. Behind him was Yanim's bike, which he was towing.
Following Karl was the large grey rover operated by Iron. The bounty hunter had intentionally turned off the headlights, hoping that the majority of the base occuppants would be too far away to hear the engine.
Iron glanced over his shoulder. "Thirty seconds." He told the crewmembers sitting in the back.
Markus was laying on a snowbank on top of a hill roughly a kilometer away and looking through is binoculars towarda Vostokrebh.
When the message came through the radio he grumbled and got up.
"Nothin ever goes as fuckin planned on this bloody company." He shouted as he slid down the small hill towards Valk and Amy, who were waiting with their bikes.
He hopped onto Amy's bike and tapped on her shoulder, "Time to get to work, luv".
"Why would anything go as planned?" Amy grumbled when she heard the news. She didn't have time to complain since she felt Markus tapping her on the shoulder.
[QUOTE] "Time to get to work, luv".[/QUOTE]
"Right, looks like we're winging it again." she added as the bike roared to life and took off.
Taylor shook her head nearby. Fuck, hopefully this doesn't go the way the Missile Base did. She cut a glance to Amy as she road off, then Valk. Valk meanwhile simply sighed. "Well, here we fucking go." she muttered, before starting the hoverbike up. She glanced back to the drone on her bike who simply replied with "READY." The drone on Taylor's simply readied its weapon. A moment later, the pair of bikes followed after Amy's.
[QUOTE]Elsewhere, in a Nyx nightclub...[/QUOTE]
"[The second you see those latex wearing bitches, plug 'em. Don't care what you do with 'em afterwards, but I want them dead. Got me?]" The Upyri shifted a bit, peering through the smokey haze in the room at the cluster of others standing before him. "[Yeah, boss.]" responded one of them, while the rest simply gave a thumbs up or an 'okay' gesture with their free hand. "[Good, now I've got business to attend to down on the floor. You fucks know the routine. Spread out, mingle but keep an eye out.]" said their leader, snorting as he stuffed the vials of Red Ice back into his inner vest pockets. It was followed by nods and the sounds of weapons being primed and holstered, before the group emerged back out into the nightclub.
The club was packed to the brim, music blaring overhead as patrons conducted the usual activities common in every other nightclub throughout the galaxy. Dancing, drinking, drugs, and sometimes fucking (though that was usually reserved for the more exclusive parts of the club.) The goons scattered around the club, as their leader moved in amongst the crowd towards the high rolling guests at the bar. They looked as though they craved a little excitement, so why not give them a taste of some Red Ice? Guaranteed to light their worlds up. [I]One way or another.[/I]
Each of the goons found themselves a spot around the club to watch over, all a short distance away from their boss. Each packed a black market plasma pistol, unmarked and DNA resistant in case they lose it and the police get their hands on it. More than enough to stop a trio of hunters bent on claiming their boss' bounty. The music would help to muffle the gunshots, as the police loved to patrol by the clubs to pick up law breakers. If you can't hear the crime, then you won't know one was comited unless someone decides to run outside and bitch about it to the cops.
The night would proceed on normally, as the dealer made his rounds around the bar. Offering an 'exclusive deal' to its patrons and visitors. Eventually, he glanced back to check on the positions of his men. He scanned the room, picking out each of the seven that had been with him. [I]One...two...three....four...five...wait, where's six and seven?[/I] It was in that moment, that he saw one of the ones he had counted go down. No gunshots or anything. He had been brutally beat down by someone. [I]What the hell is going on?! Did one of those Novastars sneak into the fucking crowd in disguise?![/I] Apparently his other men had noticed it too, and were moving through the crowd to investigate. He stood by the bar, beginning to get a little nervous. Another man went down. Guns came out. Someone was about to die.
But no guns were fired. One by one, the other men were taken down. Leaving their leader alone at the bar. The patrons didn't seem to care, as they kept on dancing and drinking. He drew his weapon, and slowly eased into the crowd to try and blend in. [I]W-Where the fuck are they!? Did they suddenly become fucking ghosts?![/I] He looked around frantically as he moved. Trying to locate his nemesis in the crowd. [I]WHERE ARE THEY!?[/I] He spun around, checking behind him once more.
A fist caught him as he turned his head. The impact broke his nose, and sent him stumbling backwards and onto the floor. "[AGH FUCK!!]" he blurted out, as he held his face and scooted backwards across the floor. He rolled over after a moment, crawling away quickly through the crowd before standing up and running for the back of the club. He had to get away! Out the back, to his car! She couldn't catch him then! He stumbled as he darted around one of the corners in the various corridors in the back of the club, narrowly missing a couple that seemed to be a bit too passionate for the rest of the public. He continued on, barreling out the back doors and onto the asphalt outside.
[video=youtube;pH6E5PQUSBA]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pH6E5PQUSBA[/video]
Neon colors from the signs and buildings all around bathed the rear parking lot in light, as small puddles of water marked potholes here and there. A product of the rains a day prior, now reflecting the colors in beautiful fashion. He crawled to his feet, grabbing his gun from the ground as he stood. Now where did he park? He looked around the lot in a panic, before spotting it. A cherry red Hyperbolt, sitting silently about thirty yards away. Time to go! He started to run, attempting to get to the vehicle before his pursuer could stop him. The problem was, he wasn't the only one armed. Halfway to the car, a shot rang out behind him. Midstride, as his right leg had just touched the ground, the largest bone in his thigh was blown in two. He hit the ground rather hard, his gun sailing out of his hand and landing in a puddle twelve feet away.
He howled in pain, before attempting to crawl after his gun. Once he realized it was too far away, he finally rolled over and got a good look at his attacker. The blood drained from his face, as he recognized his pursuer. "[I][B]M-MAD DOG!?[/B] W-WHEN THE F-FUCK DID YOU START WORKING AGAIN!?[/I]" he stammered out, as Miranda strolled up. She grinned wildly. "Just the other day, actually. I see you've been doin' rather well, Rädler." she said, glancing over to the car he had been running to. "Haven't seen one of those in years. Looks like a...'47. Right?" Rädler swallowed hard, then nodded rapidly. "Y-Yeah! Collectors item! Yo-You can have it if you want!" Miranda shook her head. "Nah. No need for it. Besides, I'm a bike kind of girl. Anyway, roll over." she said, motioning to the left with her gun. He did as ordered, rolling over onto his stomach. She then stepped over and slapped handcuffs on him. "I-I thought you were one of those damn [I]N-Novastar[/I] girls..." he said, glancing up at her over his shoulder. Miranda paused for a moment, looking off to her right. "Yeah. About that..." she muttered
There was a trio of high pitched wines, signalling the arming of laser weaponry. "Damnit, Miranda! Back off! He's our bounty!" said a female voice. Rädler looked over to see the three Novastar Queens standing there, in all their glory. Miranda grunted. "Keep pointing those laser rifles at me and you won't live to see puberty." This earned a scowl from the Novastars, but they slowly lowered their weapons. Miranda smirked. "Good. At least those damn outfits haven't squeezed your brains out." She hoisted Rädler to his feet, which forced a yelp out of him due to his punctured leg. "As for [I]'your bounty'[/I], I believe the contract was an open one. So cut your shit and fuck off, before I show you [I][B]why[/B][/I] I'm called the Mad Dog."
This effectively silenced the Novastars, though they still gave her hatefull looks as Miranda strolled off with Rädler in tow. Off into the neon lit streets of Nyxia, to where Upyri law enforcement were waiting.
"What do we got?" Asked the chief medical examiner as Wayford was rushed into the intensive-care ward on a stretcher. One of the SEMRS medics looked up.
"He ingested some kind of poison. We don't think it's anything high-lethal, his pulse has been steady during the flight here."
The exmainer nodded. "Let's get to work then." As the stretcher and its hevaily-armed entourage passed the reception for the current floor the examiner barked out orders. "Prep zero-G hall one, get me Sanders and Ignacio on the line ASAP." Without further delay the stretcher continued onwards down a maze of white and blue corridors untill it reached a large set of doors marked with [i]ZGSH-01[/i] in bold.
Vega and Callahan opened the doors and were about to step in when one of the nurses stopped them. "Medical staff only. We'll take it from here." She gestured towards another door on the left. "The observatory is in there."
Realizing that an argument would only delay Wayfords surgery Vega nodded and motioned for Callahan and the rest of her team to follow her.
Before they were able to enter the observatory the four SIG agents mentioned by Khan showed up and after flashing their IDs they began to introduce themselves. "Agent Harris, wish we had met during better circumstances." Said the leading agent as he shook hands with Vega and Callahan.
Vega nodded and grimaced slightly. "Likewise. Is the perimeter secured?" Harris nodded and gestured towards the duffel bags he and his men were carrying. "Yeah, the entire ward has been locked down. We got two local security guards at the front desk but the rest is up to us. If you don't mind I'd like for me and my men to gear up."
"Sounds good." Replied Vega as she began to observe the corridor. "I want you and your men to remain here, outside the surgery room. We got eight Army troopers inbound as well so I figured that they'll form the outer defenses alongside my team and I."
Harris nodded. "Understood, we'll lock down this corridor then."
After that everyone went into position. As the SSOID agents and SDF troopers patrolled the outer halls four SIG agents clad in suits with vests ontop stood guard outside the room where one of the most important surgeries were about to begin.
---
Doctor Camilla Valdez took a deep breath and held up her hands as two nurses helped her get dressed. Through a window she could see the room where High Councilor Quint Wayford were located. Pale but otherwise stable he was covered by a greenish blanket.
Scans taken the minute he entered the room revealed that Wayford had swallowed a tiny metallic container in the shape of an orb. It had been planted inside his drink by a unknown person and was constantly sending out a stream of various poisons which kept him unconscious.
Having finished over a hundred surgeries Valdez remained confident in her abilities albeit slightly concerned in regards to actually removing the device. She took another deep breath and looked at one of the nurses. "I'm ready." The nurse nodded.
The medical team entered the room and assumed their positions. Before they began everyone tapped on their holographic wrist screens, engaging the magnetic locks on their boots. Once everyone were confirmed to be clear Valdez did a thumbs up to a technician standing inside the observatory. He nodded and pressed a button. "Gravity deactivated. Good luck."
As the gravity was turned off the equipment around the operating table began to hover, using several tiny thrusters to stay in place should anyone accidently move them.
Two floating screens emerged and hovered on the opposite side of Wayford so that Valdez could see them properly. On the other side of both screens were chief surgeons Sanders of the Krása Military Hospital and doctor Ignacio of the Horizon Medical Academy. Both nodded slightly and greeted Valdez in a casual manner. The three of them had gone to medschool during the same year and became close friends. Now Valdez called for both their experience and support.
The surgery was about to begin.
"Nurse, scalpel please." A scalpel was produced and put into the right hand of Valdez. She took another breath. "Beginning first incision..."
---
Warlord inserted a magazine into his rifle and checked the sights. Spider was sitting next to him with a datapad showing the schematics of the intensive-care ward of the Terranos General Hospital. Warlord glanced up and observed the rest of his team. Typhoon and Disciple were both busy adjusting eachothers gear. Striker was configuring his rifle and Butcher was sharpening his knives while humming on some old lullaby from Rigel. Last but not least was Oxide who was simply sitting quiet with his arms crossed in the darkest corner of the dropship troop compartment.
Warlord chuckled and leaned in towards Spider who looked up. "Point of entry?"
Spider pointed at several dots on the map. "Several. Windows, fire filtration hatches, stairwell..." He laughed. "Make your pick."
There were indeed multiple options on how to approach the objective, some were even stealthy. Warlord began to gesture. "Oxide will go in through the filtration hatch and move on the objective in stealth. Butcher, Typhoon and Disciple will go in through the windows on the eastern side while you, Striker and I will go in through the windows on the western side."
Spider nodded approvingly. "I'll relay the plan to Kingslayer."
Warlord nodded and leaned back. He closed his eyes and thought of Legkiy. His home, ravaged by the thugs of Sol. It was time for payback.
"Twenty seconds out." Said Excalibur with a flat tone as the dropship descended into the busy skyline of Terranos.
Nyck was in disbelief. Not enough that this bitch had appeared and wrecked havoc, but now the GKVR had showed up as well. He slowly got down on his knees and lifted his arms slightly, his right wrist bearing the three chain-link tattoo that kanads were quite familiar with. “[You got a lot of fuckin nerve to show your snaggletoothed faces round here.]” he said as he spat on the ground towards Ryvik who was the apparent leader of the group. Disgust and hatred filled his eyes.
Ryvik dropped down from his vantage point, apparently unconcerned with the message the translator relayed to him. His comrades did the same, until they were in close proximity to the khergians and Beta. Finally, Ryvik replied, having gotten a sense of what had happened before he arrived. His visor’s electronics package retracted, allowing him to look Nyck in the eye. “[We go where we please, rock-eater. But we wouldn’t have come at all if you weren’t harboring wanted murderers… not that I expect you have any respect for galactic law.]”
Nyck didn’t know any Kanad, but he was amused that Ryvik only retracted the visor of his helmet. Kanads were often prone to being boastful and liked to show their whole face, but this one wasn’t so brash. A small smirk curled up on his face, “[You know, I get to make necklace out of your teeth if I bash your skull in, goblin? But I’d hate the smell of having the teeth of your ugly shit eating grin hanging around my neck since you won’t even show it to me]”
“[Shut your mouth, cave-dweller!]” the translator snapped, not even bothering to pass along the insult. One of the other agents was forced to hold him back until he had calmed down. Ryvik grimaced. “[We don’t have time for this! We’re surrounded by carnage; did she manage to do all this herself?]” he questioned.
Once the translator had finished tersely repeating Ryvik’s words, Nyck reluctantly nodded.
Meanwhile, one of the operatives had set his knee down in the middle of Beta’s back, pulling her arms around to cuff them together. As he tightened the clasp around one of her wrists, he noticed that her other hand was balled into a fist; strange, for someone who was supposed to be unconscious. He placed his thumb in the center of her wrist and squeezed against the tendons, forcing her hand open to reveal a small injector penlet, the type used to administer medical nanites directly into the bloodstream. “[Lieutenant, come take a look at this,]” the operative spoke as he examined the tube. Ryvik turned away from Nyck and trotted over, spotting the medical device.
“[Is it full, or empty?]” Ryvik replied, nervousness in his voice. “[Answer me!]”
The operator turned the penlet over in his hand a few times, trying to find some sort of indication of use. “[Uh… I can’t tell,]” he finally replied. A second later, he had his answer, as Beta kicked backwards with one of her legs, hooking her heel on the operator’s armor before yanking him backwards. In the split second his weight was no longer on her, she sprung up and used the handcuffs dangling from her wrist to cuff herself to one of his flailing arms, and before anyone knew what to do, Beta had stood up, presenting the operative as a living shield.
“Yanim!” Ryvik screamed in anger. “[There’s nowhere to run, sister!]”
“[I’m not running, brother! Not while such an opportunity is coming my way!]” Beta beamed, licking her lip in anticipation. “[Tell me, do you believe in luck, Ryvik?]”
“[You’re stalling for time,]” Ryvik spat. “[Still not done hurting from whatever beating that khergian put on you?]”
Beta shrugged. “[It takes time to mend bones, hyeh hyeh hyeh… Not that pain will slow me down. I just like to enjoy moments like these as much as possible.]”
“[Enjoy this!]” the cuffed operator hissed, activating the strength-enhancing features of his armor. The two were both cuffed at the right wrist, with the agent’s arm twisted behind his back, Beta gripping him in a half-nelson lock with her left arm. But with a loud grunt, he quickly reversed the situation by forcefully extending his right arm and overpowering her, dragging Beta into the open where the other operatives could see her. Despite stumbling, she had the wits to take hold of the blackjacket’s sidearm with her left hand, and so the moment the others attempted to line up a shot, she already had a pistol to her foe’s head.
“...Bad luck!” Beta taunted.
With a bright flash, the VRI fired into the operator’s helmet, point blank. The man inside screamed, and with the metallic effect of his helmet, it sounded like a roaring chainsaw. The shot had pierced the armor, but only barely, covering his face with burning plasma. The others opened fire, but Beta had regained control over her unruly “shield” and whipped him at the end of their shared chain into the path of the plasma bursts. “[Hold it, stop shooting!]” Ryvik cried out, and Beta grinned, getting exactly what she wanted. She spun her captive around, dragging him along with her- he was cooperative only to the extent that pain made him delirious.
“[Help me!]” the operator begged as Beta pulled him into a narrow passage between two piles of reclaimed metal. For the most part, she kept her eyes on the path ahead, but she glanced down once, smiling viciously with some evil inclination at the gory sight within the agent’s visor. When she was satisfied, she stopped and faced Ryvik again.
“[If he dies, I swear in the name of the Vizier, Yanim, I will end you right here. I’ve been chasing you for two years-]” he shouted.
“[Why in the hell do you think you could possibly change my mind?]” Beta mocked. “[Do you think the colors on your armor mean a damned thing to me!? Do you think I care about the Vizier? You naive little prick! I’ve seen the real face of this galaxy, I’ve seen what creatures do to each other out here, the natural order of things! And do you know what that is!?]”
“[You’ve lost your mind!]” Ryvik roared.
“[No!]” Beta countered. “[I’m the only sane one here. I’m the only one who’s sobered up. Nothing means anything. Good, evil, power and wealth… they’re all just temporary distractions from the only fact of any value. Everyone dies, Ryvik. No matter what you do, what I do, or anyone else, we all die and nothing we ever did or witnessed will change anything beyond the grave. We don’t matter. Nothing matters. The natural order is that there isn’t any.]”
“[That’s it?]” Ryvik exploded. “[So you’re a nihilist? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you… you freak! Why don’t you just kill yourself, then? What was the fucking point of attacking the fleet at Voyak, and the Madness at Prospera!?]” Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. How could his own sister have turned into this ghoul?
“Hyeh hyeh hyeh… [wrong sister, Ryvik.]”
Ryvik’s eyes widened. This was the doppelganger. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. The other operatives trained their rifles on Beta and her shield, waiting for an order to fire or to continue holding back.
Beta spoke again. “[I like to kill people,]” she said, strangely stoically. “[The less that people understand about death, the more senseless it seems, the more sense it makes to me. When they feel what I’ve felt- the loss, the emptiness that follows, the less I feel alone with the truth. This is the only enjoyment I get out of life, and of course it only ends with my death. And so I’ll do it as much as I can, as long as I can, until somebody kills me.]”
“[In that case, it ends tonight,]” Ryvik replied, disgusted. And yet, he remembered how he had turned on his mother and father for trying to turn him away from his own bleak assessments of life. To a degree, he recognized a part of himself within Beta, and he detested it.
Beta sneered. “[You won’t kill me.]”
“[You sure of that?]” Ryvik said, lining up a shot with his OBV.
“[Two years in the hunt, and you haven’t learned a fraction of the brutality I have. You’d have sacrificed your ally to kill me if you had anything close to a spine.]” Ryvik shook with anger, his finger resting on the trigger. But he refused to be goaded into killing his comrade for Beta’s twisted amusement. Beta grinned. “[I’ve followed you around the galaxy while you were chasing the ‘other’ Terika. I was there on Spirra. I took out your partner on Prospera, too. Do you know why I haven’t killed you yet?]”
Ryvik’s heart was beating out of control. “[Shut up. Shut up!]”
“[It’s because I want to watch you watch me.]” Suddenly, Beta ripped the helmet, mask and all, off of her captive, revealing his face which had been halfway burnt off. His eye had been boiled, leaving a charred socket behind.
“[Lieutenant!]” He said, reaching out, his remaining eye full of fear and agony as he looked at his commander. “[Take the shot!]”
Ryvik hesitated for a moment before clutching his rifle tight, intent on killing the doppelganger even if it meant losing his comrade. But his hands were ice cold, and he was shaking with rage. Through his optics, Beta seemed so calm and collected compared to him. She was right- whatever she had witnessed had changed her more than anything he had experienced in his life... but he was about to take a major step in the wrong direction.
Beta turned her captive around and without remorse, she opened her shark-like jaw wide and plunged her fangs into his remaining eye, ripping it to shreds as she tossed his body to the ground. Again, his scream filled the night air, and with no helmet to disguise it, the other operatives would be haunted in their nightmares for the rest of their lives. Ryvik finally fired, and missed. He was lost in the monstrous gaze of his pseudo-sister. “[You should’ve done something,]” she said quietly with a bloody grin.
Suddenly, a machine gun volley ripped up the ground between the two sides, stopping just short of Beta, who quickly dipped back into the metal piles seeking cover. The assembled kanads swung around to find themselves looking down the barrel of a mighty khergian machine gun in the hands of their collective’s most wanted individual. She was accompanied by two additional militiamen who had been radioed about the incident at the scrapyard.
Iska held the gun at her hip and inspected the gathering before her and then addressed them all, “Playtime over. Drop guns.” she instructed with a cold tone. One could paint a masterpiece of the complex scene as every individual kept their eyes on each other, fingers resting anxiously on their triggers. Iska eye switched between the gruesome Beta and distressed Ryvik. The latter snapped out of his shock and addressed her.
“I- I recognize you, Iska Volgrim!” he yelled, his voice sounding younger and less experienced than his leadership role would have implied. Even with the distortion produced by his helmet, he sounded less like a lieutenant and more like a scared private. Despite this, he held onto his weapon tightly, defying her. “You and my sister are close friends! But this… this thing isn’t my sister!”
“Sekadera!” Beta yelled from the shadows, sounding almost friendly and inviting. “I’ve missed you, ever since Zeruel… Don’t you know how much it hurts me, all these memories you’ve left me with? I can’t have them anymore. I can’t stand to know that you’re still breathing… I’m going to have to kill you, my old friend, hyeh hyeh hyeh… but please, be my guest and kill these blackjackets. I don’t want them to interrupt our special time together. But leave my brother Ryvik standing. The little yapping shitstain disappointment… I’ve got something special saved for him.”
Ryvik hung his head, suppressing the urge to explode into rage. “Don’t shoot..!” he warned Iska before suddenly shouldering his OBV and firing several rounds into the darkness. Each flash of plasma illuminated the passage just enough to see the strobe-like retreat of Beta towards the other end before she suddenly disappeared, and Ryvik was left screaming with rage as he realized he had failed to hit her again, his rifle needing a reload.
“[I’m taking point,]” another agent announced, patting Ryvik on the shoulder. “[You’re compromised,]” he said quietly, urging Ryvik to stay behind. “[I’ll get her, I promise. Keep these interlopers away from us. I don’t know any Terran.]”
Iska’s brow was deeply furrowed as she analyzed the situation. It wasn’t definitely not Yanim, but the leader seemed to be Yanim’s actual brother that she had once told her about.
As six of the kanads split off to search for Beta with the other officer, Ryvik was left with four blackjackets under his command.
The odds were now even. She fished out a cigarette and lit it while still pointing her machinegun vaguely in the direction of the kanads. “[Nyck, get off your knees.]” she said with a calm and collected tone and then turned to one of the militamen, “[Help him check on Bubal, Ishok.]”. But as Nyck started lowering his hands and Ishok slowly began moving towards Nyck and Bubal the blackjackets sharpened up and focused their guns at the khergians.
Behind her slow burning cigarette, Iska looked at Ryvik with a serious gaze, “Iska want domova out of Stalnazyp. Iska get men and we kill…”. Iska paused and looked out towards the depths of the yard and tried to find a good word, “monster sister. Then kanad leave.” she concluded.
Still slack-jawed and huffing from his rage, Ryvik ejected the spent plasma cartridge from his rifle. He turned to Iska, processing what she had just said. “You think it’s that simple?” he replied, incredulously. “We can’t waste time waiting for you to round up a fucking posse; right now, it’s us. We’re going to catch and kill her, and if you want to cooperate, that’s your prerogative. Just don’t get in our way.” Ryvik watched his comrades disappear into the same shadowy passage that Beta had retreated through a moment earlier and listened close, waiting for some indication of what was happening, but there was only silence. Whatever was going to happen had yet to come about.
---
The six kanads Sergeant Dastkada Rozel lead into the shadows used their optics to search their surroundings, trying to remain calm despite the rapid collapse of their plan. With the lieutenant emotionally compromised, they had to rely on their training to improvise. They reached the other side of the passage to find themselves at the rear of the yard, where a small crane hung over them, dangling a high-power electromagnet. “[Watch out for traps, she’ll use it if she has the chance,]” one of the officers warned over the local comm. He picked up a piece of metal and flung it under the magnet, checking to see if it was powered. The scrap piece hit the ground and stayed put, and so the team ventured forward.
The chain-link fence which ringed the property was in sight again. If Beta were to run, Dastkada reasoned, she would climb the fence to do it. Given her earlier behavior, however, she would likely have turned the other way. “[Get to the fence line,]” he ordered, “[and keep your eyes on the yard.]” They crossed the open ground quickly and quietly, following their orders. Unlike earlier, Beta was utterly quiet, and refrained from taunting her pursuers. She watched them from the shadows and waited. “[Take the tower,]” Dastkada ordered, and one of the operatives sprinted out to the ladder and started to climb into the crane.
The others watched, nervous, waiting for something - anything - to happen. The sergeant considered the possibility that Beta had simply circled around was was going to attack the khergians instead, when there was a loud crash from somewhere in the scrap. Someone shouted, the OBVs unloaded and filled the air with plasma, plastering the entire wall of scrap with firepower as the operatives searched for their target. Not seeing her, Dastkada ordered an advance. “[She’s hiding, draw her out!]”
By this time, the lone agent had scaled the crane and had taken a seat inside the cabin. Using his suit’s strength, he punched his way through the double-insulated plexiglass windows and perched his gun on the sill, watching over his comrades as they closed in on what they thought was Beta. In his sights, the orange-ish blobs of their heat signatures could easily be counted - there were five - but there was no sign of the enemy. Dastkada stopped, stooping down to the ground and checking through the debris. “[Broken glass…]” he muttered into the comm.
“[Do you think she might have thrown something..?]” another agent mused. As if sensing the trap closing on him, the lone operative in the tower spun around just as Beta had finished climbing the ladder, leaping into the cabin and seizing upon his rifle. With his strength, he was easily able to overpower her and push her away, knocking her into the controls and powering up the crane. Spotlights mounted on the rigging flooded the landscape with light and blinded the men on the ground, forcing them to retract their optics.
Despite her plan failing, Beta remained confident, deflecting the agent’s next attack and using her shins to deliver blows, as they were armored enough to go blow to blow against the GKVR agent. The two of them crashed off opposite walls as they traded blows, until the two were in opposite positions and Beta was closer to the door. Snatching the agent’s OBV, she pulled out her VRI and fired multiple shots into his chest, which knocked him back but failed to do serious damage. Not that she needed to, as the others would bring the firepower.
“[What’s going on!?]” Dastkada shouted. When he didn’t get a response from his comrade in the tower, he took no chances. “[Fire on the crane, she’s up there!]” Dastkada ordered. The agents fired blindly into the void of the light, unable to see that Beta had already cleared the cabin. The lone agent had just begun to answer when the plasma blasts perforated him where he stood, sending him rolling out the door in a ball of flames, falling ten meters to the ground in a dead, burning heap.
Dastkada yelled over the chaos- “[Shoot those damned lights out, you imbeciles!]” It had only taken a moment, but when the lights were out again, one agent was dead and Beta was gone. They knew immediately what had happened and what they had done. “Akha! [Search the area, she couldn’t have gotten far!]” Dastkada was getting angrier, and his unit more frantic and reckless. They took off running in different directions, each acting on a hunch as to where the killer would have run. Most of them had failed to re-engage infrared, and the last one hadn’t even closed his visor. Dastkada himself stayed behind, guarding the body at the base of the crane. This way, he reasoned, Beta couldn’t sneak her way back into the cabin.
He was wrong.
Directly above him, Beta hung from the wall of the crane, her sharpened heels stabbed through the thin sheet metal, suspending her in the air like a bat. Taking aim down the scope of her newly-acquired OBV, she executed the sergeant first, and then moved onto the others.
---
Iska shifted the cigarette in her mouth and relaxed her face slightly. “If it get domov away from here, Iska will help. But Iska need only four soldiers” she said as she looked towards Nyck who was kneeling with his arms only minimally raised. Iska looked over the group of kanads once more, “You boss man, make choice.” she said as her eyes came to rest back on Ryvik.
Ryvik stared her down, trying to come to grips with the situation. From somewhere deep in the yard, the screech of plasma rifles echoed, tugging at his attention and wearing his patience thin. He had been following everything about his sister’s life, had studied all of her contacts. Of all of the persons he examined, Iska was the one he most closely understood. And the truth is that he had come to Stalnazyp in hopes of catching her. Ever since the Archius mission, he and his team had been watching and waiting for Yanim to contact her former crewmates, anything to give his investigation some leverage- and now that the crew was on Rigel, the time had come to spring the trap that would bring his sister into the open.
But with everything hanging in jeopardy as it was, he had to control himself. Iska had to wait; it was the doppelganger that required his attention. He forced himself to reconsider every plan he had made in advance of the mission, to make a judgement call. Iska was nothing more than a criminal in his eyes, but his sister had somehow come to trust her completely. A trust among rogues? Ryvik shook the thought away. On some level, Iska was worthy of trust, and it was circumstances which pitted them against each other. Now circumstances had changed; trusting Iska wasn’t an option- it was necessary. “[Lower your rifles. The khergians are on our side until I say so.]”
The kanads hesitated, unsure of what had just taken place. Gradually, they dropped their guard and appeared to relax. “[What’s going on?]” one of them asked.
“[Nyck, pick up your rifle]” Iska instructed. But the command also pointed out the translator to her. And she kept a close eye on him as he relayed what Iska was saying to Ryvik. When Nyck had gotten up and joined the others, Iska pointed at Ryvik, “[He’s the one in charge. We blast the rest.]” she said in a cold voice.
The translator froze, unsure for only a split second of what he had just heard, but when it dawned on him he didn’t bother to finish the translation but instead raised his rifle. But it was too late. The khergians turned towards group of kanads who were mostly confused and opened fire, their large caliber guns practically tearing them to shreds and tossing them backwards with terrible force. His gun still unloaded, Ryvik did the only thing he could and dove for the ground as his comrades were slaughtered.
When the firing had ceased, Iska threw her cigarette away and aimed her gun at Ryvik, who had only just begun to lift his head, shocked at what had just happened. She calmly walked towards him, followed by Nyck and the militiamen who check that none of the other kanads had survived the swift double cross. With a sly grin on her face she spoke up, “Now, Iska in charge.”
For a moment, Ryvik was silent. His eyes darted back and forth, looking over the bodies and realizing how little protection their armor had offered them against the heavy caliber bullets used against them. And then the realization struck that he was responsible for their lives and had thrown them away on an impulse decision. He was mortified. And then he remembered the device installed in his armor, and remembered what would’ve happened if he had been killed, and his blood ran cold in his veins. Iska’s betrayal would have destroyed the entire settlement. He didn’t know how to communicate it; everything he tried to say came out jumbled and he couldn’t translate it into the human language. He climbed to his knees and let out another desperate scream. Somewhere out in the yard, Beta killed another of his friends.
“Don’t you know what’s happening?” he roared. “They’re going to kill everyone. EVERYONE!” He pounded his fist on the ground. “They sent me to save your stupid asses, you barbarians- but you just can’t do the decent thing, can you!?” He bolted to his feet, walking aggressively in Iska’s direction, pointing at his chestplate. “Go ahead and kill me too, while you’re at it. See what happens to Stalnazyp if this mission fails, if the device goes off. Then we’ll see how you smile!”
As Ryvik got closer Iska swung her gun around and tapped him in the side of the helmet.
Clutching his head, he fell to his knees as pain surged through his skull. Iska walked past him, towards the rifle he had thrown on the ground. “[Take Bubal away from here and alert the militia. I want the vehicle these little rats scurried in on captured,]” she said to her compatriots as she picked up the OBV. Nyck grabbed Ryvik by his collar and hoisted him off the ground, noticing how heavy his armor was, compared to the standard G.I.
Ryvik got his feet beneath himself. “...You really don’t care about threats like that, do you? Just like the old vids…” he spat, remembering footage from previous kanad/khergian conflicts. “It’s not a threat,” he said, darkly. “It’s a consequence.”
Iska walked up to Ryvik and pushed the rifle into his arms as she bent down to look him in the eyes, “Now reload. Monster want you, so go first.” she said, her voice devoid of sympathy as she gripped him by the shoulder and shoved him towards the shadowy maw where Beta had disappeared. Ryvik stumbled as he was sent running by Iskas push, but regained his balance. A dark abyss greeted him, and somewhere inside, a demon was waiting to tear him limb from limb. Behind him, stone-faced soldiers with heavy machineguns blocked him in. He stood there for a moment and considered his own last words.
His anger was boiled out of him, and bitterness was all that remained. “One way or another, you’ll regret what you’ve done. Anger is a tool, and so is pain; you can use them and you can forget them. But death always catches up- blood begets blood. I’ve got a lot of hatred in my life over what’s become of my sister and my family, but killing still means failure to me. That’s how I know which way I’m headed, and why I do what I do. Yanim felt the same way, once, and I wonder if you did, too. Do you know why?”
Iska remained silent.
“She calls you sekadera- ‘understanding-one’… and that’s what I called her, when we were kids.” Ryvik closed his visor, enabling infrared optics as he turned to face the hell in front of him. He disappeared into the shadows.
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Starpath: Scoundrels of the Interstellar Highway - Thread 2
