• Starpath: Scoundrels of the Interstellar Highway - Thread 2
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[video=youtube;4t4SZE6HXX4]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4t4SZE6HXX4[/video] "I hope our guest is safe and secure." "He is kept under watch and I assure you, we have taken every precaution with him. He is safe." "You have best be right, otherwise you will be reminded of the consequences if not." The large figure behind them spoke, his voice not quite able to mask its synthetic nature. The scientist let out a nervous laughter. "Oh, I assure you, Executor, you will not need to take any action to punish me or any of my colleagues if the unlikely event of the thing getting loose were to happen." "Oh, I won't be doing anything of the sort if that were to happen," Mordecai assure him. "It will do that job for me." He didn't bother to look at his underling while issuing his warning. "Be assured in the event of a breach, that the guards are instructed to shoot on sight. Archangel's team provided us with plenty of data on what they can do with organics." There was near silence in the air. The only noise was the soft humming of the elevator as it descended down the levels of the research facility. Due to its delicate nature, the Transcendence cultist was transported to the only facility on Gibel that could house it safely. The Techno Ziggurat. One of the many places Mordecai had constructed for his personal projects to toy around in. The facility's surface and first basement levels were used for communications and R&D for the Vigil's purposes. The second-floor basement was used almost exclusively for robotics. Many of the creations inside this level would make it up not only to the surface, but outside of Gibel, as the Death Vigil would use shell companies to sell the patented technology to buyers so its coffers would have another steady stream of revenue thanks to robotics and prosthetics manufacturers eager to get their hands on whatever the Ziggurat produced. The third level is the closest thing Archangel would call home. From these halls, the Vulture leader was produced. And the reports from the team are happy to state that he was far from the last one on the assembly line. Further down, in an isolated room under constant surveillance, the Starvis piece rests and awaits further research and examination. Mordecai had allowed himself some time with it when it first arrived. It lasted for a few minutes, but it was enough for him to be confident in his decision to pursue the artifact after all. The final level was constructed not too long ago. With the exact purpose to house occupants not too different in nature than its current guest. Under Archangel's instructions, the cultist was placed in a room, only able to be unlocked from the outside with a palm and retina scanner. The guards change shifts every 4 hours. Visitors such as the scientists are allowed a maximum of one hour per visit. Every single person is to report for psychic examination once a visit or shift is over. So far, no incidents. The trio and an armed escort left the elevator on the fourth level. Passing by the empty cells and the guards currently on shift, stopping only for the doors to be opened. On the other side, they could see him, sitting quietly. The only thing separating them was a thick sheet of glass so they could observe him up close as if the cameras weren't enough. Mordecai took a few steps forward before stopping a few feet away from the glass, hands crossed behind his back. "So, I presume introductions are in order?"
[QUOTE]"So, I presume introductions are in order?"[/QUOTE] [I] "Indeed they are."[/I] responded the being on the other side of the glass wall. [I]"My name is simply Seven. I am one of the Eight Apostles of the Transsentience Cult."[/I] He stood silently, and approached the glass. [I]"And you are, my dear enlightened brethren?"[/I] he asked, finally stopping about three feet from the glass wall.
"Executor Mordecai of the Death Vigil and I'm sure you've already met Archangel." He motioned to the android behind him with one hand while maintaining eye contact with Seven.
[I]"Hello again, Archangel."[/I] said Seven, nodding his head in Archangel's direction. [I]"I assume you're here to ask me questions? I'm more than happy to oblige you, just like I have been doing with your scientists. I'm an open book, as some would say."[/I] He returned his attention to Mordecai as he spoke.
"Yes, let's see how open. You willingly surrendered yourself to us while the rest of your cult attacked, maimed and butchered my men. Why?"
[QUOTE]"Yes, let's see how open. You willingly surrendered yourself to us while the rest of your cult attacked, maimed and butchered my men. Why?"[/QUOTE] [I]"I did as my Lord requested. Regardless of what my fellow Apostles think, as well as the rest of the cult, he thinks rather highly of you. He asked me to go with Archangel to meet you."[/I] replied Seven. His words sounded sincere, though heavily filtered.
"Flattery would get you anywhere I suppose." Mordecai sounded unimpressed by the supposed opinion. "Who [I]is[/I] your master exactly and what do they want?"
[I]"Well, he goes by several names. I believe at one point he was refered to as 'Patient Zero' but we simply refer to him as our Lord or Messiah. What he wants is unity through technology. Progression to the next stage of evolution via cybernetic enhancement. He himself has already undergone this process and has ascended to something more than man or xeno, and simply wants everyone to share in this and ascend with him. I was fortunate enough to be among the first to join him."[/I] explained Seven. He paused for a moment, then motioned to both Mordecai and Archangel. [I]"Both of you have already taken the first steps towards ascension. Replacing that which is weak and feeble for the glory that is technology. My Lord has gone [B]beyond.[/B]"[/I]
"Yes, we have and we are not the only ones." Mordecai paused before continuing. This 'Patient zero' sounded interesting to him. Possibly some other lead he could pursue in case of Starvis backfiring. Although their methods would need a rework. "Difference is, we have done so in a more, lets say elegant way compared to the crude and questionable methods your master has used so far." "So, your master thinks highly of me and has sent you. What are you exactly I wonder? Are you meant to be a gift? Or a communicator between us? Maybe even a scout or a scholar."
[QUOTE]"So, your master thinks highly of me and has sent you. What are you exactly I wonder? Are you meant to be a gift? Or a communicator between us? Maybe even a scout or a scholar."[/QUOTE] [I]"In a way, I'm both a communicator as well as scholar. Prior to this new role, I was a [B]collector[/B]."[/I] he stated, before tilting his head towards Archangel. [I]"Archangel knows this first hand."[/I] he then said. When Archangel first encountered him, he had been collecting the dead from a docked ship and was preparing the corpses for conversion.
"So you're the one from the footage. We can mark that mystery solved. Now if you are a scholar like you claim, then you have questions for us, do you not? If not by you, then by your master."
[QUOTE]"So you're the one from the footage. We can mark that mystery solved. Now if you are a scholar like you claim, then you have questions for us, do you not? If not by you, then by your master."[/QUOTE] [I]"Yes. When you say you've done similar work in a much more 'elegant' way..."[/I] - - - - - - - - - - - - - [QUOTE]Meanwhile, in Upyri Federation space above Nihr.[/QUOTE] "[Alright, intel says there's a group of Separatists hiding out aboard the station, and we're gonna take 'em out. A second team will come in and confiscate any evidence we find. Lets get this done and move on to the next target.]" stated the ONI agent, as he checked his equipment. The group of Navy Troopers before him were doing the same, as the boarding craft slowly neared the derelict vessel in orbit above Nihr. There had been numerous reports of Ker Loyalist and Separatist activity on Nihr, though not as high as Ker itself or any of the planets near it. Nihr was an oddball, as it was near the central portion of Federation space, which had been outside of Ker influence in the first Division War. Why the Separatists had decided to try and influence it with their propaganda was a mystery, honestly. Eventually, the boarding craft connected with the side of the vessel, latching onto the airlock hatch and proceeding to hack into the controls. It was a brute force method, the VI inside the boarding craft literally blowing holes through the security measures in the ship itself. It was rarely used by the Upyri Marines, but the Navy tended to use it as it usually was quieter and the airlock and ship could still be used after boarding instead of having a big hole blown in the side and the ship needing repairs afterwards. Soon, the airlock popped open, and the Navy Troopers poured through. They were immediately engaged by hostiles, packing what appeared to be plasma weaponry. Railgun weaponry was dangerous in this sort of environment, as one random shot could blow a hole in the ship's hull. The Navy Troopers were packing plasma weaponry as well, mainly short rifles and SMGs. The ONI agent in charge simply used a pistol. "[Take 'em out! Use cover where you can and watch your corners!]" said the agent via comms. The troopers worked their way out, and through the ship, taking down any Separatists they could wherever they found them. The ONI agent hung back, letting the troopers handle the dirty work while he investigated each of the cleared rooms. There was memorabilia everywhere. Uniforms, posters, pictures of Ker's Division War leaders and generals. Exactly what they were after. The Federation had been investigating this stuff for years, trying to weed out any loyalists or separatists that had escaped capture after the war and had snuck back into Federation space. The ideals of Ker did not need to make a resurrgence if the Federation was going to stay together and survive. After a few more minutes of intense firefights inside the halls of the ship, the last of the Separatists had been taken out. "[Good work, men.]" said the agent. "[Sir, we found something! Captain's quarters!]" sounded off a trooper over the comms a moment later. After a few moments of travel through the ship, the ONI agent arrived in the Captain's quarters to find a Separatist's corpse drapped over some sort of box. The ONI agent stepped over, removing the Separatist's corpse from it before one of the troopers in the room spoke up. "[Sir, it made a fucking click noise after we killed the last one.]" said one of the troopers in the room. The ONI agent cut him a shocked look. "[A click noise!?]" he asked. [I]Did the Separatists bring a fucking bomb onboa--[/I] [video=youtube;K-NyQ8gX6do]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-NyQ8gX6do[/video] The box promptly detonated, vaporizing everyone that had been standing in the Captain's Quarters. There were several more explosions, traveling through the ship and obliterating each and every surviving Navy Trooper aboard. Outside, the Sica-Class corvette [I]Liriana[/I] witnessed the derelict ship errupt into a brilliant ball of fire, as it was ripped appart by the massive detonations. The Separatists had laid a trap as a last resort. A dead man's switch, tied to the Separatist captain. Upon his death, the bomb had activated successfully. The explosion from the ship sent debris everywhere, some even rocketing towards the [I]Liriana[/I] and impailing its hull. Luckily the corvette was far enough away that the blast wouldn't take it with it.
Tonight was the night to be alive! A series of festivities and vices to be enjoyed by all who enter the den of iniquity that is Prospera. The Diamond Lady Casino and Club was packed with people all over the galaxy wanting to indulge themselves in an orgy of gambling, drugs, sex, and other sorts of entertainment. Halls full of slot machines were packed with people hoping to make a fortune on rigged devices which served only to make them bankrupt. Glowing body paint and colored strobing lights illuminated the club as members of all species came together on the dance floor, and in some cases, quite literally. The seediness and sleaziness of the VIP lounge seeped through underneath the door's cracks in the form of smoke coming out of hookahs, cigarettes, and other sorts of drugs and illegal substances it's patrons were using. Everyone was having a good time, and may the good times last as long as they live! [media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGZhf1Z1M64[/media] But, this was a place marked for death. The depravity was interrupted by a cacophony of screaming and gunfire. Flying bullets pierced the smoke of the VIP section, the club dance floor became coated in many colors again but this time did not glow, and the gamblers in the gambling halls soon found their coats and coffers filled with a different type of metal. Yells of "[GLORY TO GOD!!]" preceded volleys of gunfire, followed with the sound of bodies hitting the floor after. The truly unfortunate survivors of this massacre were herded to a great clearing in the casino's lobby. On all sides, they were menaced by the armed gunmen, threatening to kill them all if they even so much as moved without permission. Each of the gunmen had a bomb strapped to their chest, and should one of them fall, it would automatically detonate. One of the gunmen stepped forth among the crowd of hostages, holding a megaphone so they could all hear him. "[I][B]LOOK TO ME!![/B][/I]" he screamed. The huddled, terrified group of innocents stared back at him. "I will ask each and every one of you a simple question! [I]AND I WILL EXPECT IT TO BE ANSWERED![/I] [I][B]AM I UNDERSTOOD!?[/B][/I]" The crowd nodded nervously. "Now... Are any of you Muslim?!" he asked. Only silence responded. Furious no one answered his question, the leader sprayed bullets at the feet of the hostages. "[B]ANSWER ME!![/B] [I]Are any of you Muslim!?[/I]" he shouted. Again, the crowd was too frightened to answer. They were giving eachother nervous looks and whispered to one another. None of them probably even knew what a Muslim was. This made the leader even angrier. He grabbed one of the hostages and lifted them up by the collar of their jacket. It was a human male, and again the leader shouted his question. "Are you Muslim!?" he demanded. "N-No!?" came the response. The leader roared in the hostage's face as he headbutted him with all his might, knocking the hostage to the floor. The leader then knelt over him, and raised his fists high, bringing them down on his face repeatedly. Every time the leader's fist connected with the man's face, the entirety of the crowd winced. Soon after, there was nothing left but a crimson red pile of flesh and bone and a cracked floor. The leader turned to one of the members of the group. "Bring me another." Meanwhile outside, terrified bystanders ran to get the attention of the authorities that there was a massacre going on inside the Diamond Lady. Not too long after, several cars full of mafia gangsters joined by a few Death Vigil members surrounded the casino and a news drone began flying overhead, broadcasting footage of the grisly scene. Some of the armed men that creeped into the casino's basement hacked into it's robbery protection security system, covering all the windows and entrances with a force-field. No one would be getting in or out. Though right before the force-fields went up, the news drone managed to capture [url=https://orig00.deviantart.net/f619/f/2017/272/1/0/elnewso_by_ftfacepunch-dbozeji.jpg]footage[/url] of two of the armed gunmen posted on the rooftop. As of this moment, there's a hostage situation going on in one of Prospera's most lavish casinos, the hostage takers have bombs, and they're executing hostages slowly. And their only demand is to know if any one of their hostages is a Muslim, a believer of a religion Sol outlawed many years ago, which meant it's very likely there aren't any at all among the hostages. This was going to be a [I]long [/I]night.
"You wish to know how we achieved our own level of transition? For me, it was simple surgery and mechanical implants, with the occasional upgrade to said implants. As for Archangel, an AI capable of reading the memory and behaviour from the memory core from someone else. Replication of the AI has been proven difficult since it's original creator died not too long ago and our own attempts have been less than comparable. Do note that either method we've used so far has involved the minimum of phisical pain and dissfigurment. --- "Sir, we have a situation developing on Prospera and it needs your attention immediately." "I can see that." Nathaniel cursed whatever deity or higher power he could think of for dropping this mess in his lap. His hands were already full with the investigation on Gibel and preparing for the coming conflicts, to begin with. Now this. The newsfeeds have been running the developing story ever since it started. Usually this would be handled by the Executor or Archangle, but since both were at the Ziggurat, the burden fell on him. "Do we have anyone we can trust down there?" "One of our allies, Gold dusts, has one of their officers stationed nearby. It's one of Vulkov's sons." "Which one?" "Rasputin." Nathaniel had a very visible look of disgust on his face when he heard the name. "Looks like we're handling this alone." Nathaniel looked towards the newsfeeds again. "Have someone out there try to establish a communication channel so that we seem like we're negotiating. At the same time, I want teams to start moving in, carefully. If these psychos start shooting hostages, we're gonna have a PR shitstorm."
[QUOTE]"You wish to know how we achieved our own level of transition? For me, it was simple surgery and mechanical implants, with the occasional upgrade to said implants. As for Archangel, an AI capable of reading the memory and behaviour from the memory core from someone else. Replication of the AI has been proven difficult since it's original creator died not too long ago and our own attempts have been less than comparable. Do note that either method we've used so far has involved the minimum of phisical pain and dissfigurment."[/QUOTE] [I]"Interesting. My...well, our methods, as you know, are a bit more radical. Of course, there is intense physical pain and mental anguish, but both are only temporary. We can effectively resurrect the dead, even if there is very little left of the original host's brain and spinal cord."[/I] stated Seven. He looked up towards the camera in the corner of the room. [I]"Very interesting facility you have. Production lines, labs...if I may ask, why do you have a large box sitting alone in a room a floor above me? It looks rather important to be left alone like that..."[/I] His gaze shifted back to Mordecai.
Mordecai froze for a second. Somebody talked and that somebody was going to pay dearly. "This facility also functions as R&D so we need somewhere to store the data. It's just storage, nothing to concern yourself over."
[I]"Ahhh, understandable. We have members of our group that serve as mobile server farms for things like that."[/I] said Seven, nodding. He then stepped back, before gliding over towards the door to the cell. [I]"Do you mind if I join you? This cell feels a tad dreary after being locked in here for hours."[/I] he said simply, before reaching the door. A moment later, there was a faint buzzing noise coming from the scanners next to the door. Then, a beep. Then the door opened, and Seven silently stepped outside. [I]"Fresh air is nice every once in a while, yes? Though I don't exactly breathe anymore."[/I] ​Seven chuckled.
The guards were quick to react once Seven stepped forward. Guns were drawn and aimed towards him. Archangel stepped forward himself, standing between the Executor and the cultist. His visor glowing a slight red. Behind him, Mordecai stood still. The scientist was already trying to get to the elevator as fast as he could. "Impressive. Are all of you this resourceful?"
[I]"Well, I'd like to believe so. Most of the Apostles can do similar things. Archangel witnessed what Five was able to accomplish. Beneath us, the ones we converted ourselves have various other abilities...those that they converted are less talented but are still rather remarkable in their own right."[/I] said Seven, before turning his head to the guards. [I]"Please calm yourselves. I have stated numerous times that I am not hostile."[/I]
"Can't blame them for being protective." Mordecai looked towards his guards "At ease." Back at Seven "Archangel will be harder to persuade I'm afraid. It seems that we erred on where your housing should be." he turned arround to adress the fleeing scientist. "Doctor, be a good host and move our guest to my villa near Blue river canyon." Once again he turned back to Seven "You will find the acomodations there more to your liking. A little low tech, but full of recovered history and logs from an age gone by. And plenty of fresh air that you can enjoy."
Meanwhile, on a different planet, someone quickly paced towards the office of their superior, the president of the organization. Carrying several documents in one arm, and looking at the developments on Prospera on their tablet in the other hand, they rushed to the near-top floor to reach them. The secretary in front of the president's office door glanced up from their phone, having been playing Solitaire for the past 2 hours due to it being a slow day. She buzzed the intercom on her table, and informed the president that there was someone wanting to see them. The doors opened up and the employee strode right in. Now within the president's office, a spacious room with a beautiful view into outer space, the worker nervously spoke: "Madame Lagul!" Aver Lagul, President of the humanitarian organization known as Wave Galaxias, spun her chair around and faced the nervously-looking alien, formerly a slave they had freed just a month ago who voluntarily joined the organization as a pencil-pusher. "Yes, Gring?" Aver referred to the alien by her name, "This better be quick, as I'm still working out the details regarding the re-opening of the planet Pakihi with the planetologists," she said in an irritated fashion. Gring laid the documents from her arm onto the table, where Aver could clearly see the names on their covers. She smiled, seeing that it was the supposed stolen documents from last month some upstart slave-using mercenary crew. "Excellent, that should save us a PR disast-" "A-also, madame," Gring interrupted Lagul as to motion towards the tablet in her hands. She handed it to Lagul, who proceeded to look at it briefly. "A hostage situation on Prospera, eh?" Aver said in a curious tone, "Tell me, Gring, under whose jurisdiction is Prospera currently?" "Th-the Death Vigil, madame!" Gring responded quickly. Lagul squinted her eyes, before bursting into a short laugh. "I may support that Mercenary Union of his, but I know what Mordecai's trying to use it for," she told Gring, before standing up and handing the tablet back, "bu-ut, I may as well be [I]courteous[/I] and ask if they would like our assistance," she said in a humerous, yet serious manner. Intimidated, Gring only nods and quickly leaves Lagul's office. Now alone once more, she wrote up a quick message to the Vigil. [QUOTE]Greetings and salutations, I have just seen the news and noticed the oh-so-sorry position you have found yourselves in. Perhaps you may wish the assistance of our Auxiliators in this most tense of affairs, leaders of the new Mercenary Union? Yours truly, Aver Lagul, President of Wave Galaxias[/QUOTE] Sending her cheeky message, she sat down in her chair once more. Having received a message from Nokhea just now suggesting the two go enjoy a nice dinner followed by organizing yet another charity event, she sighed happily. Everything's coming up Lagul, alright.
On the other line of the comms device that was clipped to Jason's breast pocket, he listened as the plan was finally formed, and with it his actual role. It didn't take long before he pushed the PTT button and gave his response. 'Roger, once I'm done fixing this truck up. Hope this thing has a heater though, I'll freeze my balls off before I get the chance to do my thing... over and out." With that said. Jason put the finishing repairs on the Truck, replacing the broken parts with replacements found at the back of the vehicle and its compartments. with nothing else that looks broken or worn down, he puts the aging and broken parts at the back of the Truck, next to a crate that holds a Kinetic Machine gun. He sits on the driver seat and closes the door. with a loud purr. the truck came to life at ease. Jason activated his wrist-worn PDA and sees the location of where the base currently is. with nothing left to do and Heater working fantastically, he grabs hold of the wheel and drives off. A few minutes of driving later, he stops nearby the gate of Vostokrebh, gate and defenses smashed by the previous group. he turns off the Truck and its light to avoid noise and light detection. Jason grabs his Comms device and presses the PTT Button. "Jason here, I'm in position. Tell me when I'm going to run over these Batak- uh.. Ba.. Fuck it. Kanad pansies." ((Thanks for Damian for helping me out with this post))
The room was frozen, now that Marinaya was dead, and silent aside from Yanim's quiet whimpering and Arkadam's uneven, shallow breaths. Saliva foamed from his mouth between spasms. Beta stepped over Vixe's unconscious body, pointing it at the unrestrained people in the room- Gataska and the attendants, who had shrunken back into the walls and the furniture at the moment the gunshot occurred. "Oh shit..." Beta mused, her wicked smile growing wider. "It's finally happening. Gat, it's been a long time since I've seen you alive. And... And [I]Shenkada,[/I] I always wondered what you'd turn out to be. You're exactly what you always were-" she cursed at his vacant eyes as vomit gurgled out of his throat, "-a seducer, a defiler, and a detriment to my life..." "[Wha- what is this-?]" Gataska stammered before Beta interrupted her, having turned her attention to Ryvik. "Oh, brother... I am so glad you survived. I was afraid the khergians would kill you before I could finish you off. For what it's worth, I take back what I said about you. You've got a spine, alright, and a hell of a nerve. But to answer your question, I am not out of tricks," she mocked, showing off her fully-healed trigger hand to his morbid astonishment, "not in the slightest." "You're the one who looks like me," Yanim finally said, her voice distant and full of dread. "You're a clone, aren't you?" Beta's smile vanished the instant Yanim asked the question, her face flush with indignant offense. "No, no, no..." she spat, shaking her head. "I refuse to believe I could be that stupid, so clueless. You sicken me," she spat, rapidly crossing the room and backslapping Gataska out of the way when the latter was too fearful to step aside on her own. Beta looked down into Yanim's identical eyes and pointed the VRI straight at her forehead. "Try again." [video=youtube;poWvt17Pfc8]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poWvt17Pfc8[/video] Yanim was barely awake, exhausted from fighting and surgery, her mind addled by the chemicals she had been exposed to. The sudden appearance of Beta seemed like a strange dream, and not a pleasant one. It was as if she were watching over herself at Kuromo or Zeruel, or any of the planets and jobs which followed before she rediscovered herself: a snapshot of her own cruelty and malice, aimless violence and anger fully in control. She had just begun to say her final goodbyes, the end of her life fast approaching, when this demon appeared to claim her. She felt a sense of melancholy. "You're the part of me that ruined my life," Yanim replied, weakly. Beta blinked, apparently unready for such a response. "You made me abandon my family, and then my friends, and then my dreams and my principles. You made simple things so difficult. You made me trade away a lifetime of happiness for a few years of catharsis. I don't know what [I]made[/I] you, but I know why you're here..." "And why's that?" Beta asked quietly. "Because you were always so lost and hopeless on your own. You can kill or you can die, but you don't know how to live your life. You need help, so badly," Yanim said, tears streaming from her eyes, "the only thing you could do was follow in my footsteps, and do everything you could do to get back to me... just like me... even to the point... that you don't... know... that you're doing it..." "[highlight]Wrong![/highlight]" Beta howled, her hand trembling. "Wrong, wrong, wrong!" She wiped her forehead with her sleeve, checking over her shoulder to glimpse the onlookers, studying their faces for traces of approval or agreement. She locked eyes with Gataska and switched to the Kanad language. "[What did you put in her? She's talking nonsense!]" Beta cried shrilly, visibly shaken by Yanim's words. "[I- I don't know what she said!]" Gataska pleaded. "[I don't understand what's happening... Who are you!? Are you a clone?]" Beta shuddered, fury bubbling up inside. "[Useless little Vor'Pangn backstabber...]" she cursed, snatching one of the remaining injector pens out of the cabinet beside her. "[This was supposed to be [I]fun.[/I] Now tell me, what's in this vial?]" "[It kills brain cells, Marinaya didn't explain it to me, but she injected it into Arkadam's skull, and well-]" Gataska suddenly went white in the face. "[L- Look at him!]" Beta turned, expecting to find the same catatonic figure she had seen upon entering the room, and nearly jumped back when she met his bulging, insane eyes and bared metal fangs, his body arched painfully off the table like a tetanus victim. His breathing was fast and heavy like a guard dog's, and he began to speak incoherently. As Beta stared at the suddenly feral-looking kanad, the attendants quietly unbuckled Ryvik's restraints while Gataska crept closer to Beta from behind. "Vok d'akha..." Beta whispered as she reached out a hand, only for Arakadam to snap at the air in front of it with his gold-plated fangs. "[Maybe it's because he didn't get the full dose,]" she remarked, stooping down to pick the used injector pen out of Marinaya's slowly cooling hand. Beta began to stand and turn, when a knife suddenly ripped through the side of her neck- one of the scalpels in Gataska's robotic hand. Blood gushed out of the open wound while Beta grappled with her opponent, firing several shot's into the surgeon's abdomen. Before she could even begin to address the bleeding, Ryvik had already pounced on her, ripping the VRI loose from her hand. Unfortunately, he was still weak from the earlier fight, while Beta appeared in peak condition. While holding her neck closed with one hand, she blocked and returned several punches with her pseudo brother, eventually grabbing the surgical drill and stabbing him deeply with the bit. "Don't you dare take this from me!" she growled, shoving him to the floor next to Marinaya's headless corpse. Beta hurriedly snatched her VRI off the floor, discharging it several more times to kill off the attendants and to quicken the bleeding-out of Gataska. "Opportunities like these are rare, but I'll make them come about again, if I have to..." she added. "[Why don't you just tell us what you are?]" Gataska begged, clinching her body all over. Beta smiled. "[I might as well... the secret's just going to die with you anyway,]" she said. But then, the door opened and a security team flooded in, rifles drawn. Beta fired several times with her VRI until the plasma cartridge ran dry, causing her to retreat backwards and out through the same door through which she had previously entered. Ryvik, forcing himself to bare the pain of his stab wound, quickly hoisted Vixe off the floor and out of the team's way, standing back and waiting for the moment to come in which he'd be alone in the room with his real sister. As far as he knew, Beta would find a way to return and kill them both in a matter of minutes. --- The lieutenant colonel, a man the crew was now aware was named Joskada, and Kyrskada had finally come to an understanding. The GKVR would take custody of the prisoners, but only after the High Council had been made aware of the Black Fleet's primary role in their capture, complete with individual commendations for the soldiers involved. The leaders, Yanim and Arkadam, would remain on the base for an additional day in order to give the UGC a chance to interrogate them before they would be shipped off to kanadys. "[Alright, listen up,]" Kyrskada began before remembering the need for English again. "Hey, pay attention!" he yelled. The crew was attentive and hid all evidence that they had accessed their comm link, and so Kyrskada relaxed and gave the so-called good news. "We have it figured out now, so there'll be no more confusion. All of you present will be placed aboard the Viokhmar for transport. For the time being, you will continue to refer all inquiries to me, but you are under the defacto custody of the Collective State Security Third Bureau, and will be required to answer any and all questions from uniformed officers. "Further, once you reach Sverdeko, you'll be separated based on your criminal background and the needs of law enforcement. Some of you will be placed directly into the kanad judicial system and will remain imprisoned without trial until a lawful entity takes custody of your case, preferably a government and [b]not[/b] some backwater mercenary, pirate, or bounty-hunting outfit. If you aren't sentenced to death at trial, you can expect to be released to your home territories... eventually. The rest of you will remain under indefinite executive detainment until such a time arises that you are no longer useful. I encourage you to seek opportunities to cooperate beyond answering questions, as we will eventually run out of them,]" Kyrskada warned. "[Perhaps you might even find a new line of work.]" He seemed to suggest becoming spies. At that moment, there was a chime on Joskada's tablet. The lieutenent colonel cursed under his breath. "[Seems there's more of them,]" he hissed to Kyrskada. "[They're attacking the hospital, trying to get them out, I think...]" Kyrskada nodded. "[I'll get them onto the Viokhmar. They won't know.]" "Yakka." "Yakka." The two men saluted each other, and Joskada whistled for his team's attention. Meanwhile, Kyrskada ordered the crew to stand. "It's time. Everyone, stay in line and cooperate and we'll make things quick and relatively painless." As they stiffly and nervously stood in the plaza, another figure limped its way out of the crowd. Jag, having received emergency treatment, shakily rejoined the crew. ((I need one more update before I can let all this buildup get set into motion.))
((And... apologies for the delay. I'm in the midst of attempting a change of employment.)) [video=youtube;-pjDHh0OCZA]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-pjDHh0OCZA[/video] [quote]There's a blackjacket here. We could use him as a hostage, maybe. Force our way in that way unless you guys can come up with something better. Otherwise, I'm going with [B]ruthless aggression[/B].[/quote] [quote]Considering the amount of injuries I'm assuming you guys have, I don't know if ruthless aggression or forcing your way in would be the best course of action, even once reinforcement arrives. I personally hope that, by some stroke of luck, the khergian artillery would end up carving a path to that hospital by accident. Obviously, that wouldn't really work, plus that would probably hurt those inside, but I honestly have no better ideas. Maybe that blackjacket could work, I don't know.[/quote] Neasha sat in her seat, drumming her fingers nervously. Constantine leaned against the wall, his jacket unbuttoned and sloppy, a thin but coarse beard having seemingly burst out of his face during the last few hours. They looked at each other for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Was it worth risking even more lives, in fact, risking total annihilation, just to rescue Yanim and Arkadam? Would the two kanads emerge, only to die within hours from their injuries? On the other hand, maybe they had been saved. There was no telling how many secrets they had divulged and how much time was left before they would crack and reveal the Aurikha's current location. Maybe it had already happened. There was far too much uncertainty, and while Constantine clearly had an opinion on the matter, he held his tongue, as Neasha had known Yanim for so much longer. It would fall into the serek's hands to decide the Boss's fate. She clicked on her microphone. "Taylor, can you hear me?" she asked. There was nothing but silence. For just a brief moment, she could hear a kanad speaking English, giving instructions, before the line went dead. Something about being separated based on criminal background. The words were calm and direct; it was clear that the crew had not been caught using their comms. But now, there could be no further discussion about the plan. Neasha swallowed hard, addressing the remaining open lines. "Everyone," she said, "It's now Captain Caine's responsibility to do what she feels is best for the crew. Since we can't properly communicate with her team, we'll have to link up on the ground as quickly as possible. Whatever she's decided to do, we'll follow her lead." --- "[What did they do... what did they do..?]" Yanim groaned as Ryvik unbuckled her from the gurney with his free hand, while supporting Vixe's with his other. He grunted in pain as a splatter of blood fell from his stab wound. A medic from elsewhere in the hospital had now found Gataska writhing on the floor, her wounds possibly fatal, and had begun to administer first aid. "[Get her out of this room, there's a killer loose in the building!]" Ryvik urged. The medic, a UGC phirin, looked back in confusion until Ryvik repeated himself in English. "A... killer?" the medic replied, skeptically. "We have the whole security team dispatched on this floor. We're handling it." "Move her. That's an order," Ryvik spat. "Don't argue with me. If you stay here, not only will you lose her, but you'll die as well. This devil doesn't discriminate, I can promise you that." Arkadam continued to thrash about in his restraints, but was slowly settling down, looking as exhausted as someone who just endured heavy surgery [I]should.[/I] Finally, in the midst of his spasms, he spoke coherently for the first time since receiving the injection. "[I feel,]" is all he said. "Shdatra!" Yanim shouted. "[Please tell me you're okay!]" "[I... don't... know.]" Arkadam forced himself to say. "[I feel. I feel a lot. A very, very lot.]" Something was wrong. His expression was distant and filled with rage and fear, and yet his words seemed devoid of emotion. Blood continued to drip from the hole in the back of his head. "[That's a bad sign,]" Ryvik grumbled. Yanim, who was now sitting up with her arms free, tried to lash out at her brother, only to find herself devoid of any strength whatsoever in the core of her body. The muscles had been cut through and stitched back together, and her organs... She felt a terrifying emptiness below her ribs, as if they had been taken and not been replaced. "[How dare you...]" she demanded. "[How could you choose this life?]" she added. "[Don't you see what kind of misery you cause?]" It was clear that Yanim wasn't blaming him directly. She was speaking broadly about the GKVR and its evil ways, but Ryvik was implicated nonetheless. And he felt shame, but he knew that Yanim wasn't a guiltless victim. "[Blood begets blood,]" he replied. "[There's a few thousand dead kanads in your wake, Yanim. Don't talk to me about misery again.]" "[They came at me and lost,]" Yanim answered, darkly. "[None of this would have happened if they had just let me be free.]" "[Free to destroy planets?]" Ryvik lectured as he cautiously unbuckled Arkadam from the adjacent table. Free to burn down space ports? Free to lie, cheat, and steal from everyone in your path? You have a lot of nerve, sister. All of this is your fault.]" "[Planets like Koda? Ports like Hanza? And what about the GKVR's famous 'code?']" Yanim replied, bitterly. "[Everything I've done is no worse than a Tuesday afternoon for General Vorokar. At least I'm trying to change my ways; I came to Vostokrebh to free those militia fighters you've been torturing. Everything you just saw that doctor do to us, they're doing right here to the khergians!]" Arkadam felt a chill run through him. After encountering Beta, he never would have expected his [I]real[/I] sister to be so articulate. Beta had made no attempt to hide her motivations, but Yanim had layer after layer of excuses and justifications, as they evacuated through the hospital toward the emergency exit. Ryvik wasn't even sure where he was taking them all, but he knew he needed to get as far away from Beta as possible, before she could find them again. But all the way, nothing caught Ryvik's imagination more than Yanim's reference to Vorokar. [I][Maybe she's right.][/I] Ryvik dismissed the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. No, there was no chance he would allow himself to give up the chase. No matter what her reasoning, Yanim was a dealer of death, in the end. She just happened to pick a few very, very good targets. "[So, if we're in agreement that both of us belong in Hell, then maybe you could finally tell me what they've done to Arkadam?]" Yanim was becoming more nervous as they neared the ground floor. Arkadam's strange demeanor didn't seem to improve with the passage of time. "[I've seen what that procedure does to people. It destroys the part of the brain that handles the sense of self. You put a plate of food in front of one of them and they'll eat it, but only if you tell them to. Otherwise they'll just sit there and starve until they die. It's like they're experiencing the world but they're no longer living in it. They have thoughts, but they don't consider them to be their own. They'll say anything you ask them to. They'll recount entire weeks of their lives in vivid detail without realizing any significance to any of their waking actions. Normally, they don't feel anything. No happiness, no sadness, no anything. That's what Marinaya was talking about. "[But Arkadam said he felt something in the operating room,]" Yanim quickly reasoned. She turned to Arkadam, but was forced to take a step back as her fiance nearly walked into her. "[Dearest, stop for a moment!]" Arkadam did as he was told. Yanim paused for a moment and studied his blank expression, growing more frightened as the seconds passed by. "[How do you feel? Are you scared? Are you angry? Please say something.]" "[I feel a lot of things,]" he replied, coldly. "[But I'm not sure what they mean. I'm scared, I'm angry, I'm relieved to be out of that room... I feel compelled to run, I feel ready to kill your brother, and I feel ready to make love to you. I also want to cry. You're dying, Yanim. I don't know which of these feelings is important and which ones I should ignore. I don't know how to... to do things.]" "[But... I don't understand. Isn't it enough to feel and to have desires?]" "[Not desires. Compulsions,]" Arkadam reiterated. "[Fine, fine!]" Yanim roared, before falling into a sobbing mess. "[What have they done...]" she began to lament to herself again. Ryvik stood by, disturbed by Arkadam's almost robotic responses. He sounded just like the sleepwalkers he had seen in the past, but none of those brain-dead drones ever expressed a [I]compulsion to kill.[/I] He made eye contact with Arkadam and felt the consequences of every life choice he had ever made. Kanads do not believe in the soul, but Ryvik knew what soulless eyes would look like, now that he had stared into Arkadam's gaze. "Rah..." Vixe stirred. "[What's going on?]" Desperate for a distraction, Ryvik quickly helped Vixe onto her feet. "[We're getting out of here,]" he explained. "[That blackjacket that knocked you out doesn't work for us; she's an assassin or something like that, I don't know. She's terrifying. She's the one who put me in this hospital, and for the life of me I don't know why she's not even wounded. I blew her hand off, for fuck's sake!]" Yanim eyed Ryvik with concern, finally breaking her concentration on her fiance's terrible fate. When Vixe realized Yanim and Arkadam were with them, she jumped. "[Shit! She's- She's your sister, but she's the fucking Bloody Fox? How are we the only ones escorting her?]" "[You're not escorting anyone,]" Arkadam stated, flatly. "[Ryvik carried you here.]" "[Shut up!]" Vixe snapped. "[The medical staff didn't take me seriously when I tried to explain the threat. They won't be able to contain her, I just know it. We need to leave as quickly as possible.]" Vixe nodded. "[Then we should get to the Viokhmar.]" --- [B]Half an hour later:[/B] Ravis stared at the compound through the chain link fence, careful not to touch the intricate crisscrossing wires which likely powered either some kind of detection system, or carried a dangerous electric charge, or both. It really was like entering a forbidden city. He stared at the depth of field, the buildings seemingly so close and yet so far away, their immense size tricking the mind. He shook his head, hard, teeth chattering, trying to lose the nervousness which gripped him. He had to go forward; they had built a whole operation around his one selfless action, a heroic spur of the moment which had become the spearhead of a daring breakout. He didn't want this weight, but felt compelled to carry it. He turned to the drones at either side. He whispered into his private connection with them, instructing them to wait. He then rejoined the main comm line and warned his comrades. "I- I'm here... Owen should take off now. I'm going to... going to give it my best s-shot." A series of voices wished him luck, one after another. --- Owen slapped his hands together and rubbed them. "It's time to get this show on the road!" he hollered. He finished the startup procedure and felt a shudder through the craft. With a careful adjustment of the throttle while holding the flight stick steady, he eased the old hospital ship off the ground, watching the wind speed and direction indicators and listening to the ground proximity warnings as he rose above the snowy landscape. In the clouds ahead, he could make out the shimmering light of the moon trying to break through the oppressive weather and reveal the landscape, but he was forced to rely on topographical overlays from the holographic projector nonetheless. Sunrise was coming like an alleviating tide, but it hadn't yet come, nor could he afford to wait. "This is the Cataract. I'm airborne and closing in!" he said. [quote]NEASHA: Good luck Owen. I hope you've learned a lot, working with us.[/quote] Owen chuckled. "It was a hell of an opportunity, miss, but I ain't too scared right now; navigating those curves on the Grand Prix circuit in the dark, now that had me scared..." [quote]CONSTANTINE: In that case, show us what you've got, pilot.[/quote] "I'll do what I've got to do," Owen replied, settling in for a hard drive. --- The crew eventually found themselves seated on the floor of the Viokhmar's mess hall. Dozens of armed guards were closed in around them, carefully monitoring their actions while they waited for takeoff. Oddly, Captain Vixe hadn't yet returned from the hospital, but after word of the attack reached Kyrskada earlier, the absence seemed more appropriate. In any case, the situation hadn't deteriorated much further. The sergeant paced nervously, just wanting the night to be over. He grabbed the hilt of his saber whenever anyone seemed to shift unexpectedly. There were reports of some kind of perimeter breach, and several cameras had picked up drone movement. He wasn't about to let his guard down for a second. --- An APC bounded its way through the snow, churning ice and mud into rooster tails as it roared across the difficult terrain. The glow of the Cataract's engines in the sky just above acted as a guiding star for Orso's men as they neared the Cascade. A door flew open and the occupants dismounted, rushing toward the dropship. The time had arrived. ((Feel free to post again, now that I've caught up a significant amount.))
Karl broke the silence by burping loudly followed by a brief chuckle. [i]"Jävlar."[/i] "Forgive my manners." He looked at Kyrskada. "Hey Vader, you don't happen to have a sister from Valhalla? I used to know this girl, really pretty, but damn if she wasn't constantly pissed off." Karl chuckled again. "One time she chased me across the frozen tundra for ten days just to slap me in my face." He looked at Kyrskada. "Sure was fiery bitch. [i]Kinda like you.[/i]" Karl smiled underneath his helmet.
"Is this your idea of some joke, shorty?' Alex piped up. "The mess hall thing. Actually, forget I asked. Your military surgically removes your funny bone and shove it up your rectum to achieve the perfect upright stance." While he was talking, Amy was looking around the hall. Taking mental notes of the guards, entrances and everything else. Alex just continued. "If the idea is for us to cook for you, you're fucking mistaken. These two arents any good at preparing food for you." He pointed towards Markus and Karl. "Karl here gets paid to live in forests and mountains, even near a volcano one episode." He looked towards Karl for a second." That was a good season finale, by the way." Back to Kyrskada. "And the other guy? He does it for free. Both their idea for a well-prepared meal is skewering a small woodland creature and roasting it until it's as black as the Sanghvi you captured. Now a tough man can digest coal, but we both know you're just a bitch in a gimp suit and will just shit yourself."
Markus chuckled and then eyed Kyrskada with a sinister look, "Ohh yeah. Even tho I ain't a good cook, I could surely shove a stick up this'uns arse and roast 'im up right proper." --- Meanwhile, in the cover of rock formations, the khergian artillery lie in wait, pieces and vehicles ready to move at a moments notice. One of their scout was laying flat on his stomach, scoping out the menacing port through his binoculars. He looked down towards one of his comrades, who was smoking a cigarette whilst leaning towards the rock. "Do we know what we're shooting at?" he asked, slightly bothered by the lack of details in the plan. His colleague shifted his cigarette in his mouth and also looked towards Vostokrebh, "I'd sure like to know that. So far all we have to do is lob a few pieces into the port and the get out of dodge. If you ask me, I say we pummel it with all we got." A moment of silence occurred, the only thing sounding in the night was some low radio chatter and the deep idling sound of the artillery trucks.
Valkyrie tryed her best to speak, but the gag they had placed on her prevented everything but moans and various other mouth noises. She finally stopped, trying to figure out what to do as the others attempted to screw with Kyrskada. She glanced around, looking for anything that could be used during their escape. If it ever came. Why they had decided to stick everyone in the mess hall remained a mystery to her. Plenty of tables to use as cover, though. There was also a sharp knife on one of the tables nearby. She could cut the gag off if she could get to it. And maybe dissect a few kanads while she was at it. Taylor simply sat silent like she had been doing before. Thinking. They needed to get out of this situation, and pronto. Rescue was incoming, and they couldn't do a damn thing when it got here with all these guards. Especially in the mess hall. The others were antagonizing Kyrskada, which was a start. She decided to join in after a few moments. "Eh, I wouldn't try it. Probably tastes as shitty as he looks." she muttered loud enough for Markus to hear.
János stood outside in the cold, next to the Cascade, having waved off Owen and wished Ravis luck over the comms. He continued to stay outside, waiting for the Boomes, Porter and Amelia (and whoever else if they did join) to arrive. He wouldn't have to wait long though, as he heard a vehicle in the distance. He looked in the general direction of the noise, to see the APC, hoping this was them and not some kanads in disguise. Thankfully, a door flew open on it and the folks he had been waiting for came pouring out, rushing towards the dropship. "Come in!" he yelled at them, waving at them as he made sure the dropship was still open for them to enter. He entered first, and waited for the rest to join him inside.
"What is it with you fuckers and eating people?" Kyrskada snapped. First, Valkyrie's comments about kanad liver, and now this business with rotisserie. One of the other officers seemed concern. "[What? What are they saying?]" "[Nothing that bears repeating,]" Kyrskada replied before switching back to English, and marching straight over to Alex. "Listen. If you want me to drag you all down to the brig, I'd be happy to. There's still damage to the lower deck from the battle two days ago and we can't keep that section pressurized. Sverdeko's an hour away by air. Think you can hold your breath for that long?" Sensing that Alex would answer sarcastically, the sergeant clocked him on the head with his armored fist, forcing him to the ground. "Stop talking." Alex had bitten his tongue, and spat blood as he lifted himself back up onto his knees, as he had been. The guards snickered. --- Ravis scrambled up the terraces of the base's power station, using its harsh angles and inaccessible rooftops to increase his evasiveness and gain elevation, kicking his boots against the walls and beating his wings to climb. The enemy was after him now, and had already sighted him multiple times. Thankfully, through the use of echolocation, he had remained a step ahead, and had employed the drones multiple times to ambush his pursuers. His heart was racing; he was getting closer to the plaza with every step, every jump, and every gliding descent. "Enemy spotted!" a human voice cried out. Ravis dove into a nook between the cooling towers and watched lasers scan the air around him, looking for him, but he was a dark creature in a dark uniform, and was practically invisible against the sky. Shots rang out and hit nothing. He was advancing, but every moment was more dangerous than the last. There were more guards appearing. Some of them were kanads. He was having trouble keeping track of them all, and the drones, down at ground level, were no help to him while he pushed into an aerial scouting position. A shot clipped him. He panicked, tripped, and fell. Before he knew it, he had slid off the edge of a narrow landing and crashed into the wide metal rooftop in plain sight. Floodlights poured onto him, and there was no escaping the torrent of enemy fire. Everything became an adrenaline-fueled blur until he found himself atop a radio mast near the center of the base. Several plasma burns ached in his chest, and his leg was dripping blood from the initial bullet wound. He coughed and sputtered, feeling as if he was being suffocated, but when he looked down, he saw that he had finally made it. The plaza was in sight, and thanks to the bright lights throughout, he was easily able to identify the various factions. "H- hey!" he shouted into the comm. "I- I made it! I can see the p-plaza... I don't see the crew! Shit! Goddammit! I don't see the crew!" Everyone listening could hear the anguish in his voice. "I- I'm up on a tower right now," he added, coughing hard. "The drones have the guns, and I don't know... I don't know what I can even do from up here."
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