Starpath: Scoundrels of the Interstellar Highway - Thread 2 - Games

Amy was helping the Boome carry Alex ever since they got out of the ship. The current argument made her toss her own two credits in. "You're not thinking in the right mindset here, Mark. He's an officer, right? The locals probably have bounties on pricks like him. Bringing him in alive means more money. Keep him warm so he won't freeze to death."

[video=youtube;pgHSc6ln6eA]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgHSc6ln6eA[/video] Ryvik underwent a range of emotions as the crew debated his fate. As the thermal blanket was thrown to the ground and placed around him again, his placid acceptance of the situation became less so, and he eyed Markus with disdain. When the sniper referred to the UGC as a shell of its former self and a puppet of the Collective, he replied, testily, "And you have Sol to thank for abandoning them at the first sign of trouble." Another aerial screech sounded from the rosy sky, this time closer, issuing a more urgent warning of the enemy's approach. "Let's not waste any more time, unless you haven't seen enough of us [I]goblins.[/I]" Amy threw her two cents in next, reminding the others that Ryvik, as far as they knew, was a valuable officer worth negotiating for. He silently wondered how long he had before that assumption would be proven incorrect, leading to his disposal. He also remembered his fallen kadaren back at the scrapyard and hoped, perhaps foolishly, that they were clones as well. They finally reached the Cascade, amongst a gathered throng of vengeful khergian militia, and squeezed into the dropship's overcrowded passenger compartment. As if Ravis wasn't bad enough, Amelia was now confronted with a whole slate of heavily injured or nearly-dead crewmates to attend to. Valkyrie was defiant, but had been brutalized in the fighting. Taylor had taken one of the hardest beatings of her life. Sting had suffered internal hemorrhaging. Alex was missing a foot. Arkadam was missing half his face and could barely form coherent sentences. Worst of all were Yanim and Jag, who, after a long and traumatic battle, were currently experiencing the twilight hours of their illustrious lives. Amelia could hardly deal with the pressure as the ship made its thundering leap from the tundra and set its sights on home. There was nothing she could do for them, but she did it anyway, administering antitoxin to Yanim and stopping Jag's bleeding with biofoam. The whole flight "home," the Cascade was mainly filled with the excited chatter of the khergian escapees tasting freedom for the first time in too long, while the TBC crew remained silent in painful solidarity. That was, until Yanim began to speak again. Her eyes were locked straight ahead, paralyzed and emotionless. Her breathing was uneven and rattling, and her pulse was barely detectable. Her voice instead came from the speaker on her tablet, relaying her thoughts through the implant, the sole anchor which continued to tether her to the physical world. "<Jag, can you hear me?>" As the crew turned in surprise at the Boss's inquiry, the khergians quieted themselves in curiosity. Jag replied after a moment. "I am still here, Yanim." "<...Thank you,>" she said after a long, contemplative pause. "<I'm sorry.>" "There is... no need for apologies. This is... the sum of my decisions." "<...There still is... reason to beg your forgiveness. I don't understand why... Viper tried to save me... Why did you follow... in those footsteps?>" Jag twitched as if trying to turn its head toward Yanim, but found itself unable to. "It was as I described, soft-carbon. When I faced Viper, and struck it down-" "<I didn't know Viper was dead.>" There was a long silence as the craft was transfixed on the conversation. Eventually Yanim added, "<When did it happen? How did it happen?>" Although she remained frozen on her back, her face changed imperceptibly toward sadness. Jag thought carefully about its response. "It was not your fault, Yanim. While you crossed paths many times in life, Viper was acting on behalf of the United Galactic Community. I was, as always, an agent of chaos and destruction. We met aboard a station which had once been UGC, before the great raid in 2383, but which had fallen under pirate control. Viper had come with a special force to save the prisoners within." "<Prisoners?>" "Slaves. We took them when their protectors were forced to retreat from the quadrant entirely. The battle against YsCom broke the will of the UGC to oppose us, except for a select few whose convictions were beyond comparison. They sent only their bravest, soft-carbon, and we cut them down nonetheless. I did not know Viper's name when we faced each other, but I knew that my opponent had seen many, many battles. I was tested like never before, until I found that the limit of my opponent's fortitude was only slightly lesser than my own. I ended the life of Peacekeeper-Viper, Yanim. And I am... sorry that you learned of it this way. I only grew to understand the friendship you shared and of the great importance you played to the slain long after I came into contact with you and your company. "I did not know what brought me to Port Virtue to seek work with this company, but I know now." Yanim didn't respond immediately. A tear rolled down her cheek through a crack in her goggles. "<...You said that Viper was protecting me last spring. You must mean April of 2384..?>" [B]"That was... the last time Viper intervened in your life."[/B] "<Then Viper saw what I did to that serek... as revenge for poisoning me... and didn't give up hope... and never gave up hope... even now... and... and... and...>" Yanim's tablet eventually emitted a garbled sound, and then another. It was the sound of electronic wailing, tears of joy and sadness, an expression of raw emotion for a true friend lost. When it had finally settled, Yanim's breathing had grown steadier and more peaceful. "<You tried to tell me before, on the Aurikha... and on the road to Stalnazyp... I wasn't listening...>" "These thoughts were not as clear to me then. I could not adequately explain." "<...You took what gave Viper's life meaning and made it part of yourself... conviction beyond comparison... but at what cost? Aren't we dying, all the same?>" "You may yet discover your purpose," Jag answered weakly. "[I]What you call dead is merely in slumber...That which is destroyed in physical form... may linger on for all eternity..."[/I] Jag Perditus fell silent and passed peacefully in the mid-morning on February 12th, 2385, having completed a long and difficult journey to carry out a respected foe's final will, as well as a second, concurrent quest to redeem itself, transcending a life of wanton bloodshed out of infamy and evil, and into a lasting contribution to something greater than itself. While those present other than Yanim stood by in confusion, nothing could be more certain than Jag's ultimate victory. Its consciousness joined with Viper's in the Void infinite. --- The Cascade made a beeline for the Aurikha, seeking urgent medical assistance for the wounded and dying. The plan had originally called for an initial stop in Stalnazyp to release the crew to the awaiting Durandal, but nobody seemed to object to the detour. After rising over one last range of hills, the pilots spotted the huge carrier in a narrow valley, blending in easily with the snow around it thanks to the fresh powder deposited on its surface. They descended quickly and gracefully into its hangar opening the bay doors to a SULP crew that Neasha and Constantine had wrangled together. The leaders themselves stood by with grim expressions, trying to comprehend the extend of the night's damage. "Welcome back," Neasha said with a sad smile. "Take whatever you need, leave the wounded with us, and move on. Words can't express such an incredible thing you just accomplished." Constantine stepped forward. "I've never been prouder to serve any group in my lifetime. [B]You are heroes.[/B] But the mission isn't over, and we can't any time. The mission ends when you leave this planet aboard a new frigate and disappear into safer space, and leave all of this behind."

Karl carried Yanim out onto the hangar deck, turning her over to the SULP crew. He looked at Neasha and Constantine. "We have a dead crewmember inside the dropship." Meanwhile Ira helped Ryvik out of the ship. "What do we do with this one?"

Taylor helped bring Arkadam off the ship, gently handing him over to the SULP crew. She felt exhausted. What was left of her armor was stained in blood both her own as well as foreign, and her skin was bruised up here and there. She shed most of the armor a few moments later, stripping the parts off and sending them bouncing across the Aurikha's hangar floor. Her shirt and cargos had holes and tears here and there, and blood trickled down from the various gunshot wounds she still had. Staining anything it touched. She looked back to Arkadam and Yanim as the SULP crew dealt with them. Yanim didn't look like she was going to survive. Arkadam looked half comatose. And Jag was dead. That was three people dead. Dio, Owen, and Jag. Something had to fucking give. She stood there, her hands on her hips as she looked around at the others, and the Khergians still waiting on the Cascade. "If you have to piss or you're wounded, now's the time to get off. We've gotta hand over the Khergians and get our damn frigate." she stated, sounding a lot less like the motherly captain they had come to know. She certainly didn't feel like a hero. [I]More like a fuck up.[/I] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Valkyrie remained in her seat aboard the Cascade, her arms folded and staring down at the floor. A cigarette hung from her mouth, one of a few that she managed to save after all the shit they had went through. The rest she gave away to the Khergians, a celebratory gift for surviving and being rescued. She hurt all over like almost all the others, especially in her shoulder where she had been stabbed. But it felt fucking [I]divine[/I] to exact revenge on the fuck that did it. And with his [B][I]OWN SWORD![/I][/B] She grinned at the thought, then glanced out of the Cascade at the others. Once they got the frigate, she'd start saying her goodbyes to everyone...maybe even have a nice talk with Taylor before it was all over.

János watched as Porter and Jason joined in to help the incoming friendlies, and squeezed out of the passenger compartment as everyone flooded in, with him attempting to keep the peace by making sure those most injured were farthest away from the doors. After everyone boarded, taking one last glance towards Ravis and Amelia, he rushed into the bridge, put his MAWS away, and sat down in the first officer's seat. As the Cascade flew towards the Aurikha, and the commotion continued from the passenger compartment, only pausing for a moment, János was caught in deep thought, only doing token service as EVE operated the dropship. He wondered what was going to happen now - they had lost two people, one under his technical command, not knowing a third was lost until they landed; the Boss was in incredibly poor condition, something shared with Arkadam as well. He began re-iterating in his mind the decision he had made earlier, that he was going to leave the company once the opportunity arises. He wasn't qualified for any of this, and it would be better if he just left, in his eyes. After EVE landed the Cascade, János rushed to help the injured, noting the SULP crew that Neasha and Constantine had brought, as well as anyone from the crew that hadn't joined the mission that could spare their hands, such as Hestia and Mercy. Hearing Constantine's words, he didn't feel like a hero. Even if he was the technical leader, it was EVE and Ravis who kickstarted the rescue operation, and he felt as though he had just piggybacked on them, despite any real contributions he may have had on the mission. He just sighed, saddened by the sight he was seeing. Hearing Iron's comment, he looked over to... her? Huh. Since he hadn't spoken much to her, he wasn't that surprised. Nevertheless, he responded. "If there's anything we should do with him now, it's putting him in the brig," he told Ira, "Besides, Thommas could use some company," he said, referring to the Death Vigil Vulture squad leader who had been moved from the Cataract's brig to the Aurikha's prior to the mission commencing.

Thank fuck it was nearly over. Big damn heroes, sure. They saved the prisoners, sure, but almost nobody was feeling like that. The Koronovs were tired, beaten and bruised, but not broken. They knew that soon things would get worse with the huge bounties on their heads, but they were used to running and surviving by now. Taylor didn't help much. "You think she'll be ok?" Amy asked her brother after hearing Taylor. "Dead crewmembers and many of us got mangled. Can't blame her if she's feeling like shit." Alex tried to stand up, but the lack of a foot didn't help. He had to lean on the walls to make sure he didn't trip over and bust out a tooth from hitting the floor. "First thing we're doing when we get somewhere good, is getting you a new foot. Preferably something with a bit of a kick." "Original." He looked around. "Where's that Orso guy?" "Probably giving a report to his boss."

Amelia's face turns pale as she operated on her friends who have taken a range of beatings. It's been a while since she's done anything like this, and with the weight of her friends along with the current situation, it's a miracle her fragile heart can take all of this. A few are even dead, which takes a giant toll on her mental state. The adrenaline keeps her afloat, and it's only a matter of time before it wears off. She keeps trying to manage, thankfully recieving more help from other crewmates. She gives a few orders here and there, while letting Mercy and Hestia have a few patients to attend to on their own. It seems like she's not taking any of this hard, as she isn't trembling or breathing heavily. But at the moment, her heart is beating incredibly fast, and the current state everything is in will catch up to her cognition soon. It's only a matter of time.

Ira followed the recommended course of action and decisively lead Ryvik towards the brig where he was left supervised by two SULP guards. After that she gathered whatever belongings she still had onboard the Aurikha and made her way back towards the hangar. She dropped her two heavily worn duffel bags next to Taylor. "How you holding up, 'sis?" Karl also gathered his remaining belongings (a backpack) and then returned shortly after, staying close to the Cascade. He eventually sat down on the ramp, staring blankly for a couple of minutes before fishing out his personal logbook. With blood still fresh on his hands he began to wrote a new entry. It was as much a reason to remember the day as it was to stay sane. He tried to not think of the people he had shot. Granted, it wasn't the first time. He'd shot pirates and poachers before. Soldiers was a different thing. Karl grunted. Wonder what his old producer was up to?

After a bit of waiting, Alex was handed over a crutch. At least now they could move about faster. Amy took notice of Amelia working overtime to keep everyone together. 'That can't be good for her.' She thought. "I'm gonna check up on someone, dont wait up." Amy waited for Amelia to have a moment of free time before talking to her. "Hey, you feeling ok?" Alex in the meantime hobbled over to Karl. "This seat taken?"

[QUOTE]"How you holding up, 'sis?"[/QUOTE] Taylor glanced to Ira, dark circles under her eyes clearly visible. "I'm exhausted, I'm in pain, I'm stressed the fuck out. And people keep dying under my command no matter what I fucking do. I feel like a fuck-up of a captain, not a hero." she muttered, so that the others didn't hear. She looked down at Ira's bags. "I better go get my shit too." she said, flashing a fake smile to Ira before heading off into the crew quaters of the Aurikha. She returned a few minutes later, carrying several of her bags. - - - - - - - - - - - Valkyrie watched as some of the others went and got their gear, then decided to go get her own. She stood, strolling through the Aurikha to her quarters and gathering her stuff. Violin, tattooing gear, holotablet and anything else she had left in her room. Then, she returned to the Cascade with her bags. She stopped just next to Alex and Karl. "I'll make you a new foot. You'll have to get someone else to attach it, though." she said simply, looking to Alex, before boarding the Cascade.

[QUOTE]I'll make you a new foot. You'll have to get someone else to attach it, though.[/QUOTE] "I better have a switchblade build into that motherfucker, or I'm failing you on your final sword exam, you hear me?"

[QUOTE]"I better have a switchblade build into that motherfucker, or I'm failing you on your final sword exam, you hear me?"[/QUOTE] She chuckled as she walked. "I'll make sure that fucker has a plasma cutter built in."

[quote]"Hey, you feeling ok?"[/quote] Amelia turns towards Amy, but doesn't look her in the eye. She completely ignores the question, "... Could you sit on that machine? Its rattling is obnoxious. Just for... three minutes, until it's done." She continues on with medical processes, although most of it is to wait for natural healing to begin. Quite a lot of sweat is noticable on her forehead.

Amy obliged her by sitting on the machine. "The others helping you with the workload? Or is it just too hot in here?"

Amelia doesn't awknowledge her question for a couple of seconds, "They're helping, sure, yeah," she injects another morphine into a patient, "The temperature is fine, I have no idea what you're talking about," she then haphazardly drinks from a water bottle next to her on the counter, drinking it all in just a few gulps before crunching it up and throwing it perfectly into a trashcan. This is where she would celebrate such a wonderful shot, but now is not the time.

"You just look tired, sis. I'm just a little worried for you." Amy glanced towards the trashcan. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Mhm..." she mumbles. Checking over everything for the 5th time to make sure she did everything she could have. Reguardless, she starts her 6th check again, "You can get off that machine now, it's finished." As she's doing her 6th check, a small tear comes from one of her eyes. She quickly wipes it away hoping no one saw it.

"Alright." Amy jumped off the machine. She didn't have any sort of clue what it was or if she really did anything, but she didn't care. "Forgot to say. Thanks for patching up my idiot brother. I'm sure he appreciated it." Amy placed her hand on Amelia's shoulder. "You did good today."

The compassion causes Amelia to droop her head down. Tears to flow down her face. She tries her best to hide it. Although she didn't have much interaction with the group, she still considered them friends. This was also her first major job, and to have it all come to this, it's overwhelming to say the least. Was it a good idea to come all this way? Did her medical assistance help at all? Was she being a crybaby and overreacting? In her attempts to distract herself from these questions, they constantly built up until someone showed some emotion back. She quickly wipes her tears away, until more come to take their place. Waves of emotions flow in her mind, constantly contradicting each other, with no real closure on what emotion should take center stage at the moment. "You really think so... Amy?" she stutters.

Valkyrie spoke up, overhearing Amy and Amelia's conversation as she returned to her seat. "Yeah, you did damn fine for a lab jockey." she said, expelling the smoke from her cigarette out of her nostrils. "Better than most."

Amy put on a comforting smile. "You did. You did the best you could, given the chaos and that's enough. People die during these kinds of jobs, it's what happens and we can't change that. Sometimes, it's our own." She pauses for a second. Memories of Prescila coming back. "We can't save everyone..." her voice cracking a little. Luckily Valk distracted her from that train of thought. [QUOTE]Yeah, you did damn fine for a lab jockey...Better than most.[/QUOTE] "Yeah. Better than most."

Karl nodded. "Always room for you my friend." After hearing his conversation with Valk he chuckled. "Plasmafoot sounds a bit more interesting than Ironfoot." Ira remained next to her two duffel bags and sat down ontop of them. She let out a deep sigh.

"Well yeah, Ironfoot cried like a little bitch when it was over." Alex sat down next to Karl. "How do you feel after that first outing?"

Karl grunted. "Well enough suppose. Having doubts if this mercenary-thing is for me. It's one thing to shoot poachers and pirates, it's a completely another thing to attack military forces." He sighed. "I guess it's hard for me to justify killing someone sent to keep the peace on a world split by a rebellion."

"I try not to think about it. You wonder why they rebelled in the first place, I guess. But then you have to wonder why it was suddenly ok to shoot at those rebels. And then it's a fucking mess."

Karl shrugged. "Never was a fan of greyzones."

Despite their words of encouragement, Constantine and Neasha could tell that the crew's spirits were at their absolute nadir. Neasha looked up at her human companion glumly. "I'm going to find out what can be done about the boss," she said quietly. Constantine nodded. "I'm going to find out about that prisoner, and anything else we can use," he explained before approaching the Cascade. "All of you, I'm not kidding around. If you're wounded, we need to move you to the Aurikha's medbay for treatment. There're more tools to use there, Amelia... And as for the rest of you," he added, "I need to know everything you can tell me about what happened tonight. If you managed to bring us anything interesting from the base, I want to see it. I want to keep us a step ahead of anyone who might want to retaliate in the next 48 hours." --- In the Aurikha's medical bay, the wounded crew members were placed in comfortable beds in view of each other, except for a small section at the rear which was separated from the rest by a curtain. Yanim, Arkadam, and Ravis were moved there, and another bed reserved for Jag remained empty. More were filled with SULP employees who had been badly wounded during fighting several days earlier. While Amelia and Mercy attended to the rest outside the curtain, Hestia was tasked with analyzing the critically wounded, gently giving prognoses. There was a certain implication, however, which was impossible to disguise with bedside manner; anyone taken through the curtain was unlikely to survive for much longer. Neasha's heart sank further as she crossed through the room, observing the many filled beds. On one hand, it was easy to blame Rask for the consequences of his betrayal, but that didn't extend to those who had died or nearly died fighting for Khergian liberty. She pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the dimly lit hospice area and set her eyes on Yanim. "Boss, it's me," she said to the lifeless eyes. "<Yes, I'm still here,>" the voice replied. "<Is the crew leaving Rigel yet?>" "Almost," Neasha replied, uncomfortably. It seemed strange to discuss business when her friend was supposedly on her deathbed. "It was a rough mission, Yanim. They're trying to pick up the pieces right now." "<Jag died,>" Yanim said. "<Dio, too.>" "So did Owen," Neasha added. "He died while stopping that kanad frigate from scuttling itself. So... I suppose we need a new pilot... and, well...>" "<I know... I died too. I'm still here but there's nowhere left to go... my body is shutting down as we speak. We're facing a lot of changes...>" Neasha's eyes widened. How could she be so calm about death after breaking down so suddenly just weeks ago? Didn't she still care about Arkadam, or the company, or her deferred dream of having a family? "Yanim," Neasha replied, "Is there anything I can do?" "<You're going to have to lead them. Make sure they get the treatment they deserve->" "No," she interrupted, "is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" "<...>" Neasha stood and watched Yanim breath in silence for a while. Hestia approached from Arkadam's bed. "If I may interrupt, Miss Kyral, Mr. Arkadam is coming out of his coma now. I'm sure Miss Terika would appreciate a chance to speak with him." "<...Shdatra!>" Yanim called out as Neasha thanked Hestia. "Yanim," Arkadam replied, flatly. "This is the Aurikha. That means we're safe." "<...Yes! Yes, we escaped. And Hestia is going to->" "Your voice is abnormal. It's coming from that tablet. You're paralyzed. You're dying." Yanim replied quickly, "<Yes, yes. It's true, but you're okay, and Hestia is going to help you recover.>" "I am not okay," Arkadam responded. "<Did you suffer any more injuries?>" "You're dying and I am not okay," Arkadam replied, awkwardly. "<But... You will be,>" Yanim insisted. "I will not be."

Taylor gave Constantine the rundown of everything she knew. The assault on the base, the everyone getting captured, the blackjacket, them being taken aboard the Kanad frigate, Yanim's double, Vixe's escape, and the drone that had been circling the crash sight when they were rescued. She also mentioned the device that Yanim's double dropped when she 'disappeared'. "It was almost like she teleported. Amy picked up some kind of handset device. Old looking, even has an LCD screen on it." she said, folding her arms. Mercy had given her a quick patch-up, bits of gauze covering her gunshot wounds and burns. She looked almost like she had went 12 rounds with a Khergian. Meanwhile, Valkyrie got the same treatment, though she also got a dose of nanomachines to repair the damage to her shoulder from where the plasma sword had been shoved through. The wound was covered in gauze, as she gulped down the liquid out of a tequila bottle she gripped in her off-hand.

[quote]Once again, centuries ago on Earth. In the 2050s.[/quote] “Look at it! It’s all ruined!” Chemosh gently placed the charred book back on the blackened altar. Small embers still burned bright around what was once the mosque, now a pile of ashes surrounding a destroyed interior. As he stepped back and surveyed the damage, he noticed something not too far from where he was standing. Something round underneath a pile of rubble, something glistening a sickening green among the grey. As he looked closer, the more it looked like the outline of someone’s face! He quickly got down and started digging through the rubble and wiping off the ashes. His heart sank as he saw what it really was. The scarred, bloody face of a dead Artisynth stared back at him. “[I]Oh no...[/I]” he whispered to himself. As he silently mourned the loss of one of his Artisynth brothers, he noticed a shadow casting over him. “How many times will you have to see this, Chemosh?” said Beherit. He began circling Chemosh like a vulture. “The number of our dead has risen once again. [I]How many times will it rise more?[/I] Once more? Twice more? Do you even remember the amount of dead we now have in total because of this? Do you even [I]care?[/I]” Chemosh hissed at him. “Shut up! Now is not the time!” “[I]Are you blind!?[/I] Look around you! Our people are dying! Now is [B]definitely [/B]the time!” barked Beherit. “[B]I DON'T NEED TO HEAR THIS FROM YOU!![/B]” screamed Chemosh as he quickly rose to his feet. No way was he having any of Beherit’s talk, not after what happened today. Sure, he didn’t know how much more of this he could take, but he cannot give in to his anger now. Not when he could at least let the proper authorities handle this. Though, in his anger, he didn’t notice the rubble about to trip him as he walked away. What he landed in took a moment for him to process as he gradually began to panic, with Beherit simply shaking his head. What he first mistook as more rubble turned out to have been a pile of horribly burned Artisynth, each of them covered in burn marks and ash, and several scarred beyond recognition. As he looked around him in horror, Beherit began talking again. “Behold, Chemosh! The future of our race!” he mocked. Chemosh was terrified. He scrambled as he tried to sit up. “How can you say that, Beherit?!” “Because [B]look [/B]at them!” barked Beherit. “How many of them do you see with weapons in their hands?! How many of them do you see trying to fight back? Do you think if they had fought, would they still have ended up in this pile!?” Chemosh said nothing. He remained silent. “I do not tell you this to mock you, friend, but for the sake of our people! If we are to survive being relentlessly persecuted like [B][I]this[/I][/B], then you need to face this problem with both eyes open. Make no mistake. This is our future if we do not fight back. Do you understand now, the threat of extinction we face so long as we do nothing?” He reached out with his hand to pull Chemosh up. "I-I do. This... This is not the future I want for our people.” stuttered Chemosh. Pulling him up, Beherit embraced Chemosh in a hug. “Then I say it’s time we do something. Our people should not have to suffer this anymore. I want to lead them away from this fate, but they follow you, Chemosh. You and I must stick together.” Chemosh again did nothing, but stare back at Beherit with a sad look in his eyes. “Moloch will not like this.” Beherit scoffed. “In time, he will understand what we are about to do was absolutely necessary. They all will. Now... let’s leave this ruined place before it claims us too.” he said while ushering him out. The trap had been laid and now Chemosh had been caught in it. Beherit finally had him right where he wanted him: in the palm of his hand. Now all he had left to do was to crush him under his grip. Perhaps had Chemosh not been wearing his formal mask, he’d smell the faint trace of gasoline coming from Beherit’s hands... [quote]Days later.[/quote] By order of their great hero Chemosh and the rest of the ayatollahs, the Artisynth has begun isolating themselves from society. They moved all their holy places away from the cities, barred everyone from using their services, and no longer allowed the two peoples to mingle. In the great hall where the Artisynth gathered to hear their leaders speak, Chemosh prepared a speech in order to answer several questions as to why these new changes and orders were being put in place. As he readied himself, Moloch and several ayatollahs decided to speak to him before he went out. “Are you sure of this, friend?” asked Moloch. “Absolutely. I cannot stand by and watch our race be burnt to ashes while the Holy Father tells us to be still.” he responded. “I’m worried, Chemosh. This feels as if it will just create more problems for us.” said another ayatollah. “I wouldn’t do this if I felt I didn’t need to. This needs to be done to ensure our survival as a race.” he replied. The rest of the ayatollahs exchanged looks to eachother before Chemosh spoke again. “You’ve all seen it, the way we’ve been treated. The arsons, the beatings, the killings! Well I’ve had [I]enough![/I] We need to push back, we need to start securing our future, or else we’ll all die!” Moloch hung his head low. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.” Chemosh turned around, placing his hand on Moloch’s shoulder. “I do, friend. You won’t believe how much it would pain me if I see you become their next victim. I can’t let that happen. Not to you, not to any one of our people. Not one more dead.” Turning around, he stormed to the podium where he began speaking to his audience. "[I believe it's best if I speak to you all in a language only we understand, first of all, but there have been things I have seen that have troubled me greatly. Things I am certain some of you here have experienced firsthand. Of course, I am referring to how our people have been relentlessly persecuted ever since we've taken action against Omnitech, our [I]former [/I]tormentors. Ever since then, society has viewed and treated us as monsters. Well I say no more! We are not monsters! We are Allah's chosen people! The ones he has promised he would deliver from evil! [I]The ones he promised would have his protection![/I] And yet these people, these horrible people, are disgusting enough to treat us like [B]MONSTERS!![/B]]" Chemosh slammed his fist hard on the podium. All eyes were on him at that point. "[It's as if our time with Omnitech never ended! All that happened during the intifada was we traded our cell for a larger one! We're still being beaten, we are still being killed, we are still being tormented! Too many of our mosques have been destroyed! Too many of our people have been burnt alive! And I say [B][I]ENOUGH!!![/I][/B] We are smarter! We are [I]faster![/I] We are [I][B]better![/B][/I] We have created a society free of sin, and they despise us simply for getting even with the devils that wrapped us in chains! This is a life of humiliation I will not accept, and neither should any of you! So, my dear brothers in Allah, make no mistake! Our people stand [I][B]ALONE!!![/B][/I]]" As he continued ranting, his words reached far and wide among the Artisynth, and penetrated deep enough that even Moloch found himself cheering. And above the hall, watching the scene unfold in a lonely balcony high above everyone, was Beherit smiling to himself as he knew the first step of his plan had been achieved.

As Taylor stood in the hangar her personal tablet began beeping. On the screen was a notification. It was a message from Maddox. The ghosts did indeed speak.