Starpath: Scoundrels of the Interstellar Highway - Thread 2
3,232 replies, posted
Sepa turned around and cast a final glance towards Jester, "Your name has been in our ledger once, and it is but a stroke of a pen for it to reappear."
With his final words he departed from the hangar.
Jester straightened up, still smiling as Sepa walked away. Zadra looked to her as soon as Sepa was out of the hangar. "...did you piss them off before or something?" Jester's eyes drifted to meet hers. "I owed them quite a bit in another life. That debt was settled." she simply replied, before turning to face her. "Well, Zadra, shall we get the ship ready for cargo?" asked Jester, grinning before motioning to their cargo vessel behind them. Zadra nodded, before heading off towards the ship. They had already bought other things for the Guillotine, which were already sitting in the cargo hold of the ship. That stuff needed to be arranged to fit the jump drive when it arrived.
With nothing to do but wait Ira decided to train some conditioning. Clad in boots, combats and a white tank top she sprinted through the halls of Muramasa II. Taylor had the muscles and Ira had the speed. That's how it always had been ever since they were kids. Ira ran past the bar, through the armory, circled around on the bridge and eventually found herself in the kitchen. She slowed down and waved at Alex. "Mind if I grab some water, chef?" She asked with a smile.
---
Karl knocked on Amy's door. "Hey. You busy? Figured we could clean our rifles now that we have time. Maybe Koval could join us."
Amy was sitting in her cabin, reading through her mail and catching up on the news. Their exploits were getting reported, naturally getting twisted and turned into something else, but what can you do. There was another bit of news that worried her.
[QUOTE]Retaliation or opportunism?
Following his assassination attempt earlier this week, it would appear that Executor Mordecai has ordered a retaliation strike on Elysium combine controlled space. Reports of skirmishes and clashes are coming in as Death Vigil ships have started to push forwards. Critics of the Executor have put the decision under heavy scrutiny, however. Remarking on the quick mobilization of the navy as too convenient. The Executor himself has refused to comment. More on this as it develops. [/QUOTE]
Looks like the old bastard was on the move to get to Starvis. She could only hope that the Combine would slow him down or stop him outright. Her attention was drawn to the knock on her door. It was Karl.
[QUOTE]Hey. You busy? Figured we could clean our rifles now that we have time. Maybe Koval could join us.[/QUOTE]
"Yeah, sure. Gear could use some cleaning."
---
[QUOTE]Mind if I grab some water, chef?[/QUOTE]
Alex heard the voice behind him as he was cutting some meat. It surprised him somewhat, he still wasn't used to the fact that Iron was not only a woman but didn't actually have a radio voice. He turned around to face her.
"Be my guest, but grabbing water is difficult. I tend to pour it in a cup, a glass or a bottle even."
Karl nodded. "Great. Let's find the bushman then." He said, tapping on his rifle covered in dirt.
Against all odds he had managed not only his own rifle but some of the other's personal weapons before the crew left the wrecked Kanad ship with the funny name.
---
Ira laughed. "Chef, mercenary and a joker? You're a man of many trades Mr. Koronov." Said Ira smiling. She grabbed a glass and filled it with water. For a brief moment she studied the glass before consuming its contents. Ira nodded. "Beats drinking from a tube." She then crossed her arms and nodded towards Alex. "So, how are you holding up big guy? Thoughts on those plans Taylor mentioned?"
"I don't know" Alex shrugged "My problems gone just like that? Sounds too good to be true."
Ira shrugged and put the glass down. She began stretching her legs. "As someone who have spent most of my life chasing bounties I'd say you and Amy should go for it. This Rollonso guy sounds like the real deal too."
She looked at Alex. "You and your sister shouldn't have to live like outlaws because of your father. Hell, Sol should've fixed that long ago instead of throwing you under the bus."
"Yeah, well I've been promised miracle solutions to my problems before. Same shit every time." Alex grabbed a cleaver and brought it down on the slab of meat. "Sol doesn't care anyway. If they did, they wouldn't have put that giant target on our backs. Don't know about Rollonso, mercenaries don't exactly have the most trustworthy reputation, but the boss trusted him enough to call him for help, so who knows."
"You like spicy food by the way?"
"Both of you deserve a second chance." Said Ira. While she never had a psychotic dad (as far as she knew) she could still sympathize with Alex and Amy.
"You know, when I was younger I was always on the run. Didn't have anyone I trusted but myself. Then Mad Dog busted me and forced me to make a choice." She chuckled.
"My point is, if neither of you gets the chance to live life without looking over your shoulders you should take it. It doesn't matter if it takes a hundred tries because it's something that's worth fighting for. At least that's how I see it."
Ira smirked. "Besides, you got me and the rest of the gang to help you out. It's not the Koronovs versus the galaxy anymore."
[quote]"You like spicy food by the way?"[/quote]
Raising an eyebrow Ira eyed Alex with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "Yeah, food always tastes better with a bit of a kick. Why do you ask?"
She approached Alex. "Got any surprise festivities planned for tonight?"
"Well, when was the last time you just sat down and enjoyed yourself to some peace and quiet without some crazy shit happening?" Alex smilled "Crew just managed to grab a breather and needs something to enjoy."
Ira nodded. "Can't argue with that. After all the shit we just pulled we could use some time doing regular people stuff."
Her expression then changed. "Speaking of which, do you want to catch a drink later? We have this tradition with the BCB whenever a colleague goes down in the field. Figured it'd honor Yanim in some way at least."
"You can count me in." Alex thought for a second "Huh, I spend my entire life without drinking and as soon as I join the crew I've had a few. The last month and a half were brutal."
Ira chuckled and placed one of her hands on Alex's shoulder. "Don't worry, you're not alone. I only drink because of the tradition." She smirked and turned her head. "That and when things either go really good or when they go really bad."
"Come to think about it, I don't there's a bounty hunter in the entire BCB who doesn't drink."
She looked at Alex. "Maybe after we pour one out for the boss you could tell me about the previous months? Taylor gave me a brief rundown on Rigel."
"Gladly." Alex replied. "Tell you the truth, so much happened, I almost forgot half of it."
Karl knocked on Markus' door loudly. "Hey ranger, up for some maintenance?" He glanced at Amy. "Do you know if he's one of those funny rangers who never clean his rifle?"
---
Smiling at Alex Ira nodded. "Good. See you at the bar later then."
((Komo if you need to do the timeskip go ahead. I'm just trying to keep some convos going untill then. They can always be recapped afterwards.))
[i]Bring me a bottle or two, me lad, bring me a bottle or four. For the company, fine o' women and wine, Is what I'm looking for. Bring me big ol' knife, me lad, bring me big ol' gun. For the wine an the women ain't comin for free and theres lots o' work to be done.[/i]
Markus sat in his temporary cabin, with his gun neatly in front of him on a small tarp on the floor.
Perched on his bag, he sat and polished the firing mechanism while humming the Marauders Waltz.
Suddenly there was a nock on the door. He sighed and put the part down and went to open the door.
Outside, Karl and Amy was waiting. He looked at them both and then to Karl.
"What kind o' cunt thinks he got the right to refer to me by me title an' insult me in the same sentence?" He spoke in a low voice.
Amy stepped back a step from Karl. "I think he just answered your question there." If Markus was about to smash his teeth in, she wasnt gonna stand in his way.
Markus looked over to Amy, "Any reason yer hangin round with this bellend?"
"Boredom mostly." Amy shrugged. "Besides, I'll be working with him, should try to figure him out."
Markus sneered a bit "I've seen enough o 'im to know what 'es about. But come on in to me humble abode in an' polish yer rifles." he finished, returning to his seat and picking up the mechanism to finish the dusting and begin the oiling.
[I]There are plenty o' folks here about, me lass, whose purses an bellies are fat.
They drive fancy cars, smoke expensive cigars and have men to take care of their hats.
They don' give a care fer us poor hatless fools, though out in the gutter we sit.
But the thing bout full purses an bellies, me lass, 's that they're both well easy to slit.[/i]
The meeting room was well-lit and comfortable, and was adorned with banners and emblems representing the UGC as if it were still at the height of its power. Ryvik, along with a number of important figures to the two allied militiaries and the two external bureaus of the SS, all trickled into the room over the course of half an hour and sat down around a large, heavy table in plush leather seats. Another lieutenant of the GKVR, Traginada Rozel, had met with Ryvik soon after his recovery and immediately sought to inform his contemporary of happenings within the agency, as Ryvik, being a disposable clone, had previously been denied this information. Of course, Traginada tried to explain that a general comm array failure had occurred, and was careful to prevent the other officers from disrupting that narrative, but Ryvik already knew the truth thanks to Vixe. He merely smirked, staring through Traginada as the latter tried to talk, pretending as if the two were on the same page...
"[She's dead,]" Ryvik eventually explained to the table once everyone had arrived. "[I have more than just her possessions. I have photographic proof, as well as a blood sample. The body being burned in those photos is my sister.]" He placed the digital and biological evidence down on the tabletop, which was quickly snatched up by the other intelligence officers to analyze using their various electronic tools.
"How did she die?" the base commander asked while they awaited the result. A translator was used to mediate the conversation, as Ryvik was barely able to stay awake and found speaking English clearly to be too difficult.
"[A combination of factors... A lot of factors.]" Ryvik's tired eyes contained a hint of sadness. "[She commonly abused narcotics from the age of 17 onward and was addicted to kagakitazh. Tests conducted here at the base confirmed she was carrying a near-fatal saturation of M-921 in her blood and soft tissue, inflicted almost a year ago on Voyak. Throughout the past three years, she suffered a series of gunshot and plasma wounds across much of her body, she was deaf in both ears, and was almost totally reliant on an advanced neural regulation system as well as repeated anti-toxicity regimens just to remain alive and productive.]"
"So she was burning the candle at both ends," the base commander replied, amused. "Sounds like she wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway."
"[Yeah... the problem could have solved itself, although there's no telling how much cybernetics could have prolonged her life further. If a single brain implant maintained her for an additional year after her whole body started to break-]"
"It's real," Traginada interrupted. "The photos haven't been tampered with, and the sample is genuine, too. That's Yanim Sidikan."
The base commander nodded. "That's good to know."
"Indeed," the local chief of the Second Bureau added. "I'll inform the commissar immediately," he said, excusing himself from the table.
"[Make sure to inform him that this matter is organization-confidential. General Vorokar has the dossier on the initial capture and he'll have the final report from our local office; if anyone discloses to the High Council it needs to be him.]"
"Yakka," the other replied with a polite bow of his head.
"[As I was saying-]" Ryvik began again, but he was interrupted one more time by the base commander.
"I'm sorry, can I get a direct answer, first?"
"[To which question?]"
"'How did she die?' I understand she was in poor health, but what exactly killed her?"
Lieutenant Traginada placed his hand on Ryvik's shoulder. "I can actually answer that, sir; I've seen the reports from the hospital and I've spoken with our surgeon, Miss Gataska Vor'Pangn."
Ryvik blinked. [I][So she survived after all,][/I] he thought.
"The wounds she suffered during her attack on this base resulted in a massive hemorrhage as well as multiple organ failure. To put it simply, she was incapable of surviving without life support. Gataska was forced to remove most of her intestinal tract. She would have needed ongoing fluid and synthblood transfusions as well as dialysis, and even then, her prognosis was only a month."
"So the wounds inflicted at this base are what eventually killed her, and not the crash of the Viokhmar?"
"[Well... that, and a massive seizure,]" Ryvik added. "[She escaped the Viokhmar's destruction without injury, but it destroyed the computer control unit which handled her neural implant. Her second-in-command explained this to me before I departed; they were able to restore functionality after the rescue, but by that point she had entered into the final descent.]"
"So now, all is clear," the leader of the Black Fleet forces remarked after having been quiet the entire time. "We all had a hand in this."
There was a notion of agreement throughout the room, but it was an uneasy one. Now that the simple matter of understanding what happened to the enemy was finished, the questions shifted toward their all-important pawn, Ryvik. It began a long and boring debriefing containing every detail of Ryvik's efforts before and during the Vostokrebh attack, his capture and interrogation at the hands of the enemy, and his eventual escape. He spared no detail, allowing them all to feel the sense of loss for Karma Unit and the fear that Killer-Gemini presented.
"[Killer-Gemini is as large of a threat, if not greater, than the Terika-Belladonna Company ever was,]" Ryvik would eventually explain to the table. "[I'll be informing General Vorokar to shift his resources toward finding and eliminating her immediately.]"
Traginada shifted uncomfortably. "[Well, that's all well and good,]" he said somewhat quietly, so that it would clue the translator into not passing on his words to the UGC, "[...but you've been active now for over 24 hours, and have seen far more in terms of combat than anyone in your role should be exposed to. I've instructed the hospital to arrange a medical examination-]"
"[That won't be necessary,]" Ryvik replied fiercely. "[I'll go to the barracks instead, send a few private messages, and then rest.] In the meantime," he said, switching to English and speaking much louder, so that the UGC representatives could hear him, "you all should be preparing for another possible attack. Killer-Gemini has shown a pattern of hunting down witnesses to her behavior and killing them, as well as those who might track her. Those of us in the Third Bureau are at the highest risk of assassination, but as we saw last night, she has no qualms about killing anyone who gets in her way. If we're lucky, she'll attack Stalnazyp instead and go straight for Iska Volgrim."
"[Ryvik, I insist,]" Traginada urged, "[you need to at least check in.]"
Ryvik glared at him. He knew what the lieutenant was trying to do- just like Vorokar on the Perikal, the medical checkup ploy was just a trap, but while the first one created a clone, the second would no doubt result in its euthanasia. "[The answer is no, Traginada.]" The others in the room could see the tension between them, which Traginada was eager to hide.
"Well... then..." he said, nervously, "I suppose we should be on high alert; I'll send messages out to neighboring bases in case she shifts targets."
Ryvik rubbed his temples, which were throbbing with an intense headache. "Good. Now that we're on the same page, I want my armor returned to me at the first opportunity, [I]in its original condition without modification,[/I]" he specified. "If I encounter Killer-Gemini again, I won't take any chances. I'll ensure that she's killed even if it costs me my life, and all of you should be prepared to make the same choice. And... one final thing," he added. "I need to speak with Vorokar face to face about a matter which I haven't, and will not, disclose to any of you."
The room was taken aback by Ryvik's sudden intense change of demeanor. Traginada shook his head, but kept his objections to himself. He resolved to wait until a superior officer, perhaps General Vorokar himself, could compel the clone to attend his inevitable execution. He silently cursed, then, when he realized that as long as Ryvik possessed this supposedly essential information, that no one [I]except[/I] Vorokar could allow the clone to be disposed of, and given the general's devil-may-care attitude toward standard procedure, he would be unlikely to grant permission to kill the clone before he's extracted the promised, tantalizing intelligence.
"Once he's finished giving his report on my sister's death to the High Council, I want him to return here to retrieve me so that I can share what I know directly. I won't accept any other form of communication." He turned to Traginada and smirked with sunken, listless eyes. "[You'll help arrange that, won't you?]"
Traginada suddenly felt very nervous.
There was a chime from the Black Fleet's presiding officer's personal tablet. He checked his messages before jolting to his feet. "[We've found them!]" he said. And once the translator had finished speaking, the UGC base commander was equally excited. "[Gataska's report was accurate, we found them exactly where Yanim said they would be.]"
"Ah, very good! And with the word already out to assemble our force, we should be able to move immediately, correct?" the base commander inquired.
The batakya leader stiffened up, remembering the challenges which lied ahead. Switching to English so that the Peacekeepers in the room could understand him clearly, he explained- "the great worry here is the khergian militia. We were only able to gather about 200, as the rest have been assigned to reserve duty in the war out east; we're not allowed to deploy them ourselves. With help from your Peacekeepers, we might do better."
The base commander frowned. "I only have about 50 men, total. A dozen of them are still in the hospital, and the other bases are too far away. Nobody's going to want to take this job now that the biggest fish is off the table."
"I don't understand that expression," the batakya commander replied.
"He means that, without my sister," Ryvik interjected, "the Peacekeepers will be reluctant to contribute additional support. We already got our main target."
The batakya leader looked at his equivalent with indignation readily visible in the lines of his face. "After all we sacrificed to protect this planet's bases..?"
"It's not like that. You know as well as I do that the remainder of that company poses far less of a threat than it did before it came to this planet. We've decapitated their leadership- Rask Vor'Pangn defected and was killed by TBC. Yanim Sidikan was brought down. Now all they have is a former drug runner and a former UGC man like me who's apparently so washed up that he doesn't even outrank the smuggler. The khergian militia is out there in the hills; who knows what they'll bring against us if we send our forces that close to Stalnazyp-"
"[If I may, sir,]" Ryvik cut in, "[If we send everything we have to attack the Aurikha, we'll be leaving the base vulnerable to Killer-Gemini.]"
"[I'm not worried about your supposed monster, Lieutenant.]"
"[You should be,]" Ryvik cautioned.
The batakya leader's ire grew. "Fine, if you won't support us with manpower," he said to the base commander, "we'll borrow some of your armor and do the job ourselves. Is that a fair deal?"
"You know I don't want to endanger our partnership," the base commander replied, blandly. "You can use whatever vehicles we have on hand, but I'll warn you that the weather conditions here have rendered many of them inoperable without repairs... and most of our engineers have been busy repairing your ships."
---
Unbeknownst to the planners at Vostokrebh, Beta had no intention of returning to the base to finish off any of her enemies there. She was actually many kilometers away, riding another stolen vehicle towards her next stop- a cargo station, whose distinct pyramid shape reminded her of painful, yet fond memories of the moment she began to grasp the true shape of the galaxy. She opened a line of communication with her contractors in the Death Vigil and calmly waited for someone to answer.
Karl simply grunted. "Apologies brother, I was merely joking." He stepped aside to let Amy enter the room first before following. With another grunt Karl sat down and folded out a tarp of his own on which he placed his rifle. Next to the tarp he placed his backpack from which he produced two cans of CLP-X.
He placed one of the cans between Amy and Markus. "Feel free to use this. Oldschool stuff created in the early 20th century. Still works like a charm."
Beta didn't have to wait long. It took just a few seconds for her to be put through to the Vigil's communication channels.
"This is communications officer Asterios Galanos of the Death Vigil. State the reason for your message." It took him a second to recognize the signature. "Ahh, it's you! You will be put on priority soon enough, but I still need the reason for this call."
"I'm going to need a pickup from..." Beta said with a smile as she searched the roadway for signage, "...Grozvy Cargo Station. I'll be returning to Gibel. And another thing: I intend to collect the bounty on Yanim Terika."
"I hope you're bringing in proof of the deed. The Executor received over a hundred similar claims just last week. He wasn't pleased." Asterious clicked a few buttons on his console before continuing "You're in luck. We have a crew defending a convoy on that road and they are due home after that. They should be coming to your location in 30 minutes. You should be off-planet by sundown."
"Works for me," Beta replied. "They'll be announcing Terika's death tonight on Intergalactica. The Collective will publicly take credit for this, but I'm in possession of an item she simply could not live without in a very literal sense," she explained tersely in a half-truthful way. Yanim's damaged computer package lied on the seat next to her. "I might as well have ripped her heart out."
Deep down, she was still bitter. She didn't just want to claim the bounty, she wanted the satisfaction of getting the best of herself, of killing off an inferior rendition of herself. In a way, she had set up the circumstances which led to her pseudo-sister's demise; she had attacked the doctors which were keeping her alive and driven her out of the hospital at Vostokrebh, but she would need to stretch the truth to claim full responsibility and that alone was a major frustration. She glanced at the pack. Yanim was practically an open book by the time she died, telling her tragic tale to anyone who would listen. But more than two years had elapsed between Zeruel and the recruitment of the Muramasa crew...
Yanim may not have known where Beta came from, but she was correct when she described what she was: the very worst version of herself. That recognition brought a sadistic smile back to Beta's lips; before turning back to her degrading moral trappings and humiliating reliance on others... before assembling that infernal crew, Yanim was alone, bitter, and cruel. She was one step away from becoming Beta, and had remained that way for months, maybe even years. There could be very, very, deep dark secrets hidden in that computer memory, secrets Yanim intended to take to the grave. By disavowing them, Yanim had surrendered an entire chapter of her life that Beta was now set to inherit.
[I]I hope you understood, in the end,[/I] Beta thought, [I]that the life you created was just a facade...
What we share in common is what really makes us who we are, and sets us apart from all the weak, sappy, sentimental fools who died in our wake. The bleak answer at the pit of our soul was always exactly the same. You were too weak to embrace your destiny. So be it, Yanim. It never belonged to you anyway. I am the one who chose to be myself; when you chose to become the fake, your life in this universe, your past, your memories, became mine for the taking. And I will do with them exactly what you should have done.[/I]
She remembered the pain she felt in Picaea, when she witnessed bikers murdering innocent children. The relief, the warmth of knowing that none of their lives meant anything, that a child was no different than a soldier, an elder, or a medic, that the specter of death hangs over every head just the same and that it was far more useful and pleasant to employ than it is to ward it away... it brought peace and closure. Taking Orok's life in Stalnazyp was her peace with death, her peace with the universe. [I]If only you had the nerve, sister. You don't know how good this feels... and how much we could have done together... But I'll do it, for both of us. I'll do what you should have done.[/I]
Valk finished her conversation with Taylor, eventually finding herself walking up to the bridge. Her newest invention, Eve, was still flying the frigate, sitting quietly in the pilot's seat with a plethora of holoscreens before her and controls firmly in her grip. Valk noticed as she approached from the back of the bridge, though, that music was softly playing. Eve must have learned that from her, as Valk always listened to music when she was working on something. She wondered if Eve actually knew why she did it, though...or maybe Eve actually liked the music? Could she? She was a drone with an AI, and fully able to think for herself, much like Bucky. Valkyrie made sure she was able to, as a machine with limitations such as that was next to worthless without direct orders. She wanted the EVE AI to be able to adapt, but still remain loyal to her or whomever Valk labeled as its commander.
[QUOTE][video=youtube;LACp8f3wuBk]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LACp8f3wuBk[/video][/QUOTE]
"How's things up here, Eve?" asked Valk, stepping up near the pilot's chair. Just enough that Eve could turn her head and see her. "Perfect, Lady Blackwell. The ship is operating at peak efficiency, as am I." responded Eve, glancing at Valkyrie only for a brief moment. "Very good. Seems you're gonna be the first one I've built with no glitches or malfunctions." "Indeed, ma'am. Might I say your 'Magnum Opus'?" suggested the drone, to which Valkyrie chuckled in response. "Lets not go that far. There will probably be several more drones built after you along with other projects." she said. Eve nodded. "An engineer's work is never done." she commented. Valk looked out the window of the bridge, before shifting her stance a bit. "Well, I'll leave you to it. I've got other shit to focus on." "Understood, ma'am. Have a good evening." said Eve, her tone a bit more upbeat. And with that, Valkyrie walked back through the bridge to the hall circling the elevator. She decided to continue wandering, wondering who she'd bump into during her stroll.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Meanwhile, Taylor remained in the bar. She had started on another bottle of vodka, as her holotablet sat before her. She scrolled through Intergalactica's news feed, examining the diffferent headlines from across the galaxy. Her face was a shade of red, the alcohol clearly kicking in as she ingested the booze from the bottle. At the moment, it was less drinking to drink and more drinking to deal with pressure and problems. Her mother would probably have stopped her a bottle ago, and ira would have stopped her after the first or second glass. Especially knowing the state she was in. She eventually sighed, propping her elbows on the bar and putting her face in her hands. She still hurt a bit from the attack on the base. Even the booze wouldn't dull that pain. After a moment, she returned to looking at the holotablet, her head resting in her hands as she peered down at it. Most of the headlines were pretty average. The ones that caught her eye were the one about the incident on Rigel, Death Vigil moving in on YsCom space, and a few bounty capture reports involving her mother. Good for mom.
After excusing herself, Ira left the messhall to continue her conditioning run. Completing five more laps around the ship was relaxing in a way; there were no complex thoughts involved. You just ran forward and never stopped.
Eventually she noticed that her sister was still sitting inside the bar. Ira thought about talking to her ultimately decided not too.
To Taylor each loss was personal, so was each battle. She needed her alone time afterwards. Ira grimaced and continued to sprint, hoping to score at least five more laps. She knew that if Taylor wanted to talk she'd find her.
Wenesday the 13th proved to be a bright and clear day. Word had finally gotten out in the news media that the Kanad Collective had killed the Bloody Fox, and the Aurikha, still crippled in the valley outside Stalnazyp, made its final preparations for battle. The enemy would come soon, and there was no chance of escape until the engines could be repaired the following week. Desperately, perhaps hopelessly, Neasha continued her calls for help while Constantine focused on organizing a plan of defense.
Continued, desperate calls to Stalnazyp had finally netted a skeleton crew of khergians, engineers and mercenaries, and a number of other creatures from off-world to guard the Aurikha. Constantine lent his leadership skills to organize the mob into a fighting unit while Neasha continued to search for support from elsewhere and the lines of credit needed to pay them. Despite the company having accumulated capital after the last operation, the high likelihood of a fierce enemy attack meant that the asking price of most reputable mercenary forces was simply too high. It wasn't a contract to guard a ship, it was a contract to engage the Collective's marines.
The announcement of Yanim's death earlier in the day had also considerably harmed the company's reputation, reducing the likelihood of aid even further. The group which was assembled was neither reputable nor professional, forcing Constantine to identify "officers" which could reliably carry out his orders, even if it meant beating the more punkish recruits into shape. Many of them turned out to be frauds, arriving on scene only to attempt to steal from the vulnerable vessel. Discipline became a tightrope, but with enough reward and punishment, the force took real shape. Those who were willing to stay and fight were both brave and desperate, each with their own history and personal callings which had led them to this moment.
Hours into the operation, a large portion of the missing SULP workers stumbled back into sight, delirious from the cold, having been unable to find safe transportation off the planet and having nowhere else to turn. It was almost miraculous, and while some had been contacted by their superiors back on Seloveha, warning them that they would effectively be exiled if they failed to do their duty to supply the revolution with firepower, Neasha welcomed them back with open arms. These final recruits were bitter, fearful, and desperate, but were forced to trust their ambitious leaders for one last job. Constantine immediately found places for them inside the unit and prepared them for battle, wasting no time on further repairs when the enemy was close at hand. They had eventually armed over 140 for the coming battle, mostly selovehans, but some khergians, humans, and a handful of other species and androids. There were even a few kanad offworlders, mainly outlaws, who stepped up to defend against their mother country.
Outside the Aurikha, where the seemingly-endless welding continued on the stripped-down engine pods, a team led by Mattheus and containing the most loyal SULP employees was indexing parts when an ear-splitting howl caused the crew to dive to the ground. Until then, their work had progressed unabated because they were the most efficient workers in the entire crew. Now, the selovehans sought out their TAC rifles, which had been piled up on a tarp near the work site, as a designated scout confirmed their worst fear with rangefinding binoculars. "Kanads overhead!" he yelled, as another low-flying fighter swept through the work site. Plasma rained down from the sky in torrents, cratering the ground and vaporizing the snow into blistering steam. In the distance, a dozen tanks began to crest the edge of the valley. Alarms sounded throughout the ship, signaling the moment at which the ultimate fate and life-summation of hundreds would be defined.
[video=youtube;DvdeE6KzrTc]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvdeE6KzrTc[/video]
The lights blinked in and out as Neasha ordered for the Aurikha's reactor power to be redirected to the shields and weaponry. The defenders raced down the passages, assembling once more in the hanger with Constantine at the forefront, having armed himself for the fight, age be damned. Immediately, rocket teams leaped into action, supported by experienced local guerrillas who lead them into the valley seeking holes which had been dug earlier by the engineers- good positions to ambush the enemy from. Some carried rudimentary mortar kits featuring old ammunition which had been imported on a cargo sled from some village sixteen kilometers away.
The tanks were surrounded by infantry, which seemed to pour over the ridge like a bloody avalanche in their white and red armor. OBN rounds were already pounding into the EM shields and deflecting at odd angles, the bullets dropping onto the hanger floor sizzling with the heat of the impact. The tanks began barraging the exterior of the vessel, targeting the gun pods, which swiveled around in search of the enemy fighters. With thundering booms, they filled the sky with plasma, but the nimble enemy crafts easily outmaneuvered the heavy cannons. The enemy forces accelerated their advance, fearing the cannons would be turned against them, but that was an impossibility. Only the gun pods on the bottom of the ship would be able to target them, but after sitting for so long on the surface, they were totally blocked in by snow around the edges of the ship.
The ambushes began. The enemy sighted their opponents easily and suppressed most of them with small arms, but down on the factory deck, the cargo doors swung open to reveal yet another rocket team waiting to strike. A dozen rockets were fired before the enemy finally countered the assault. Enemy turret fire eventually pierced the shield and killed the rocket team, but only after the explosive loss of two tanks. Mortars launched from friendly foxholes whizzed through the air, exploding over the enemy troops and vehicles but failing to slow their advance, as most were off-target and some even failed to detonate. When the mortars were exhausted, the defenders went over the top, firing haphazardly at the enemy infantry, and were dispatched by precision fire and grenades.
The enemy sensed the lack of readiness and broke into a full sprint, closing on the ramp as the fighter wing made another sweeping attack on the carrier. But, even though the shields had been penetrated once already, Constantine ordered his side to hold its ground and wait for the enemy to come closer. "Let them bunch up!" Constantine yelled. "Save your ammunition until it's a sure shot!" Unsurprisingly, the tanks took the lead when the enemy was forced to concentrate itself in front of the landing ramp.
As the first few hit the ramp and began to ascend however, the engineers aboard the Aurikha launched a trap. Constantine signaled to them- "Close it!" He called out. The whole unit shifted backwards in fear as the huge motors controlling the blast doors began to retract everything into the ship as if it were preparing to take off, causing the tanks to be lifted awkwardly. Before they could fully cross the bridge, they found themselves driving downhill, and then tipping so far forward that they couldn't compensate-
by the time they reached the top, now bottom, of the ramp, the angle was so steep that the barrels had to be swiveled fully around backwards to avoid the floor of the hangar, and the tanks crashed, one after another, nose-first into the ground.
Wasting no time, the fighters began tossing grenades and Molotovs onto the wreckage, shooting anyone who tried to escape through the hatches. Another two tanks were disabled. Decks above, another rocket team climbed out of a maintenance hatch and attempted to set up at the edge of view, but were spotted by enemy snipers. They kept their heads down, searching for some sort of vantage point until the fighter wing came through for another pass. The sound of plasma impacting the shield array echoed through the hangar- loud, gong-like ringing that was the stuff of nightmares for the inexperienced fighters on hand. Sensing their growing trepidation, Constantine decided not to immediately lower the ramp again; although this would provide the enemy more time to position their forces and further cripple the ship, it would also help him shore up the unready within his command.
"Everyone get your grenades ready. Machine guns, up front!" Constantine ordered as he took up position just around the corner from the door. Engineers dusted the tank wreckage with fire extinguishers while the ragtag brigade's heaviest fighters, mainly khergians, took up position with LMGs. The other fighters prepped another round of grenades for throwing, sometimes bundling them together for greater impact. The gong-like sounds intensified; it was the sound of tanks pounding at the door, demanding entry. "Listen to me, everyone!" Constantine demanded. "We have to lower the ramp again! If they penetrate and destroy the blast shield, there'll be nothing to protect us if the EM field fails!"
"[Make peace with god, and may her grace be with you!]" a selovehan declared to his fellow countrymen.
"Hold onto your asses!" a human mercenary yelled out as Constantine signaled for the door to be lowered again. "Let's blow them away!"
"[The goblins are weak-willed and full of lies. Remember what our ancestors proved with their sacrifice! Crush the spineless invaders!]" a khergian rallied.
"[They might kill us,]" a kanad offworlder whispered to her clique, "[...but they'll never make us slaves again.]" They nodded, shouldering their rifles for the last stand.
Meanwhile, the enemy called for their air-support to fire in through the gradually-widening opening. Neasha reported the change in flight pattern to Constantine, but it was too late to clear the defenders out of the path- a rush of plasma blasts ruptured the EM field and cut through the hangar, killing dozens, including one who had just pulled the pin on her grenade as the enemy tanks became visible. The secondary explosion killed several more fighters as terror began to set in. Thankfully, the angle of attack the kanads had used was easier for the gunners of the Aurikha to track, and they were able to dispatch two of the five enemy fighters in one barrage. "Here they come!" Constantine screamed. "Hold steady!"
The next wave of tanks began to roll up the slope with the ground troopers on foot behind them, using their hulls as a shield against the onslaught of khergian machine-gun fire. The tanks fired their barrels in unison, rupturing the shields again and causing a terrible detonation which left the defenders disoriented. Within moments, the tanks slammed into the wreckage and pushed it backwards, clearing the path for the enemy as the defenders stumbled backwards into retreat, aside from the machine gunners at the fringes who were able to get a proper angle on the enemy advance and cut down several in their path. A brave few charged the vehicles in an attempt to climb on top, but were shredded by machine turret fire.
"Backs against the walls, hurry!" Constantine ordered, but he couldn't even hear his own voice over the ringing in his ears.
The defenders had already begun to disperse, heading to opposite ends of the hangar. Those that had maintained their discipline thus far were corralling the others not to break further, as getting cornered would mean certain death. Instead, they threw everything they had at the tanks, trying to disable them. The others fired sporadically at the enemy troopers who were now pouring in. They returned fire in the process, causing high casualties on both sides. Bullets and plasma blasts pierced and scorched the walls on all sides, spraying the defenders with the blood of their comrades. However, the panic was beginning to fade, as it was becoming clear that there was no available escape. Doors which had been unlocked moments earlier suddenly refused to open- Neasha's doing. It was a coldly-calculated decision, necessary to keep the fight alive.
Constantine fired from behind cover, aiming at the individual soldiers to slow their advance as much as possible. The tanks, however, had not been disabled by the barrage they encountered upon crossing into the hangar, and he watched in horror as they turned their barrels toward the thickest concentrations of defenders. At the same time, the long-silent guns of the original Muramasa spun to life for the first time since Voyak; an engineer had discovered a serviceable hard-point before the battle and repaired it in a stroke of genius. The heavy, aircraft-caliber rounds perforated one of the two tanks before it could fire, detonating the ammunition within and saving Constantine's life. The other tank was uninhibited, however, and blew a hole between the hangar wall and the next compartment over, turning six fighters into bloody mush in a single shot. The kanads swarmed around this tank, easily overpowering the stunned defenders as they poured on more and more firepower.
The scene was becoming a nightmare as yet another tank climbed the landing ramp, the floor became crimson with the tide of death, and the enemy continued to grow in strength. "Raise the ramp again!" Constantine called out in desperation, trying to stem the tide. The ramp began to raise again, but this time, the enemy turned its attention on the huge motors and within a few seconds of sustained shooting, there was an ugly, heavy groan before the ramp fell limply back into the snowy ground. The Muramasa's machine gun continued to spit fire, disabling another tank and killing several dozen troopers before overheating and encountering a serious jam. The last-remaining advantage had been exhausted, and after drawing even for most of the fight so far, the defenders continued to suffer a 2:1 disadvantage. Worse yet, half of the enemy tanks were still fully-operational.
[video=youtube;8KScAt7Wj_8]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8KScAt7Wj_8[/video]
"Neasha, for fuck's sake, open the goddamn doors!" Constantine yelled. "They're all over us!"
[quote]Move down to the factory floor, then! Just keep them away from the reactor core![/quote]
"Officers!" Constantine ordered through the local comm, "move toward the bow, retreat to the deck below, quickly!" He looked past his cover to find that fighting throughout the hangar had become a melee by this point, as there were simply too many bodies in such a tight space to prevent friendly fire. The kanads were utilizing their power armor to brutalize their opponents, but some were overwhelmed, clubbed in the head by the defenders' rifles and driven to the floor to be shot and beaten to death. One of the troopers closed in, swinging at Constantine's head with an OBV, but the human leader ducked the swing and fired point blank with his TAC rifle, piercing the enemy's armor and killing him. He checked the crowd again to find that the officers had opened the door, and were making a fighting retreat into the corridors, although some who were confused exited toward the stern of the ship by mistake, due to their unfamiliarity with its layout. Regardless, Constantine smiled- the kanads were at a stark disadvantage in the halls, where plenty of cover was available and there was no room for the tanks. The main trouble at that point was with grenades, and once the defenders had flooded into the tight halls, the kanads began using them in high numbers, but it was ineffectual once the defenders began to utilize the bulkhead doors position in strategic locations, a feature rarely included on modern starships, but present thanks to the older-generation design that the Aurikha possessed.
Once the numbers inside the hanger began to thin, the tanks came back into force, however, and a large number of the retreating defenders were killed by close-range machine gun fire. Constantine opted to leave them as-is, because they would soon run out of targets to shoot at once the defenders had fully exited the hangar. He also had no choice but to trust his officers, as once they lost line of sight to each other, it was impossible for Constantine to directly coordinate the defense. Finally, as the last few made their way toward the bow, Constantine dashed out of cover, taking a plasma shot to the hip as he joined his comrades in the tunnel toward the brig. They provided covering fire as he rounded the corner onto the stairwell, the very same one Maddox and Rask had used days earlier to escape through. The gong sounds continued, but seemed to be dissipating as time went on. Neasha soon revealed the reason:
[quote]We got another one! The enemy jet fighters are breaking off and heading for Vostokrebh![/quote]
"Do you hear that!?" Constantine howled into the local comms. "Their air support is leaving the battlefield! Do we have anyone up top?"
[quote]Yeah, you got us![/quote]
The voice belonged to the last remaining rocket team, who had been waiting for the cue to launch an attack on the enemy tanks the entire time. "Go get 'em! The skies are clear!" Constantine ordered as the kanads pushed their way down the corridor on his position. "Neasha, I'm moving down to the factory floor now!"
[quote]Understood. Stay safe![/quote]
---
On the top of the ship, a maintenance hatch was thrown open, and the last rocket team climbed out onto the surface with their launchers already prepped and loaded. The enemy snipers, having finished off the other team several minutes earlier, weren't ready for this second team's appearance and fired several inaccurate shots in their direction. Undaunted, the rocket team pressed forward toward the edge and let loose a batch of missiles against the cued Peacekeeper tanks on the ramp and below as well as tossing grenades and molotovs, destroying four of them so that only the two remaining inside the hangar were still in operation. Several of the team members were killed in the seconds following by re-calibrated sniper fire, forcing them to turn back in a panic. The leader of the team was ecstatic, however- "We hit all of them! They're all fucked up, sir!"
[quote]Great job! I swear to Christ we're gonna turn this out![/quote]
---
Down on the factory floor, the defenders with Constantine at the head of the charge entered the floor looking for cover to guard the staircase behind them, only to be surprised by enemy fire from across the room. One of the hallways defended at the stern of the hangar had been overwhelmed, allowing the kanads into the lower floor. Unwilling to signal his distress to his comrades, Constantine resolved to dig in with his accompaniment and fight the enemy at both sides. He and a dozen mercenaries and armed engineers dropped behind an assembly line, using the conveyor in front to guard against one entrance and a large hydraulic press to cover the other. They dropped their ammo bags into a pile and started shooting like mad, creating a barrier against the enemy's entrance which lasted for several minutes. Friendlies began to pour in from another entrance, and the scene once again became too chaotic to keep track of. This continued for half an hour, as both sides fought tooth and nail for each inch of the factory floor. Only when the defenders had dwindled to barely 40 in their entirety did the enemy suddenly pull back, climbing the stairs toward the exit.
"Neasha," Constantine said, clutching a new wound on his leg, "where are they headed? Can you see them on the cameras?"
[quote]They're... they're leaving! The tank crews are dismounting, too! They can't get past all the disabled ones... Oh gods! I can't believe it![/quote]
"We won!" Constantine said, grinning madly at the final survivors. "We fucking did it! Hot damn!" The others either cheered or broke down in tears, their elation and their suffering evident on their faces. In the end, the defenders had managed to control the pace of the fighting all the way down to the final stand on the factor floor, and once the enemy had exhausted their supply of grenades, casualties from advancing into the Aurikha climbed dramatically. In the final ten minutes of fighting, 40 kanad soldiers had been killed, bringing their total number down to 56 survivors. The stairwells were piled three-deep with their bodies near the thresholds into the factory. The last attempt by the Collective to snuff out Terika-Belladonna on Rigel ended in a costly defeat.
---
[B]AzureNet-XL Broadcast Station, Terran Orbit[/B]
The windows of the meeting room darkened automatically as the sun crested over the horizon, keeping the ambient light at a pleasant level for the occupants inside. Nicolas Chevelle, an investigative reporter working for news juggernaut INTERGALACTICA, took a seat with his fellow journalists in preparation for "the pitch," where various ideas were kicked around for consensus approval. Editing directors and social media experts either sat by or teleconferenced in, sharing input on what stories needed to be followed, and which ones would most appeal to the human market. Wars and politics were currently top of the agenda, but there was plenty of room for "detail pieces," which ranged from soft news to hard-hitting exposés. Detail pieces always required a certain degree of manpower which couldn't be left to content farms, and so approval and funding for things like travel, equipment rental, and insurance were sure to come up.
By the time Chevelle spoke, he was amazed that the Bloody Fox story the network had been pushing so hard just days earlier had fallen so far on the agenda. Sure, the rogue had finally been killed, but that didn't make her and her rampage any less compelling. "I'd like to do a detail on the Terika-Belladonna Company," he said, clearing his throat. "I think we spent a lot of time talking to their enemies and a lot of time warning the public, and nobody's actually been down there at ground level."
"So, what?" an editor asked, almost mockingly. "Are you just going to call them up and schedule an interview?"
"Has anyone tried?" Chevelle replied. "You know it's not a high risk scenario, here. If they consent to an interview, or multiple interviews, it'll mean one of two things. Either they're nutjobs who want a platform, or they've got a compelling story to tell."
The editor scratched his chin. "And what happens if it turns out they're as awful as the Collective says they are? What if they take you hostage?"
"Then you pay my ransom," Chevelle joked. The other writers laughed as well. "Really though, why would they want to take me hostage when they can take anyone, anywhere hostage? So far, I don't think there's been any reports of anything like that..."
"No, you're right," the editor replied. "Ask them. If they agree, you and I can start talking details."
---
[B]One Week Later[/B]
[quote]February 20th, 2385
We finally departed Rigel. I can't believe we actually survived our stay on that frozen hellhole; it's probably the worst decision that Boss, or anyone, ever, has ever made, and I will never go back there so long as I live. That being said, we've finally caught up with the Muramasa II. Our resources have once again been stretched to the brink, but with additional support from the Selovehans, we should squeak through, just barely. I've asked around, and our new security crew seems happier to have a permanent position than they were in the uncertainty of the mercenary business, and it's a real relief to know that they aren't holding it against us what we used them for... Cleanup was awful, not only did it slow down repairs even further, but we still haven't been able to restart production on the TAC rifles. We need more employees, so after this meeting is over with, we're setting course for Seloveha to gather more workers. Also, Arkadam's surgery went well this morning. He's conscious and recovering in the medbay side-by-side with Ravis, who's been doing quite well and may even be able to rejoin our comrades on the Muramasa. I've told him to discuss the matter with Captain Caine. I heard Arkadam asking Hestia questions in proper English, which I take as a massive step in the right direction. He still hasn't lost that creepy monotone, so I'm still crossing my fingers that there's still room for improvement. And one final note- this reporter from INTERGALACTICA somehow got a hold of our drop box information and has been sending us requests for an interview. I might actually do it, the higher our company profile is, the easier it's going to be to get investments...
-Neasha Kyral[/quote]
A chime sounded in the bridge of the Muramasa II, a hailing request from the Aurikha, now just a few AUs away. The crew was being called to port.
Markus lay on his bed with his arms behind his head, staring at the roof half asleep.
As the chime came through, he awoke from his semi-slumber and looked around. With a sigh, he resumed staring at the ceiling. He had wanted to leave on Rigel, but in hindsight it would be safer to leave on Trixina plus he would also have a easier time to make his way back to Vorago from there.
The money he had earned in the TBC wasn't anything to joke about, but the risks had been piling up and it was time cash out. Even with Yanim dead and the company effectively being knocked down a few pegs on several lists across the galaxy he knew that everything might go to shit once more.
And he was not going to stick around to see if he'd make it out of the next big one alive as well.
---
Sting had not claimed a room for herself, but opted to stay in the small hangar were she had crafted a small hut for herself in a corner. She sat crosslegged on the floor outside of her hovel, whistling "Sweet home alabama" whilst stirring a pot.
She was making more moonshine and anyone who could smell the fumes knew that they had been wise not to accept a drink from her. Whilst in this calm and comfortable moment she pondered what she'd do with her payment. Ira had shown her the number on a tablet, but Sting had been puzzled by the many zeroes. She would have to find Ira again and have her explain how many .357 bullets that would buy her.
---
[quote]Meanwhile, on Ayr[/quote]
The hall was magnificent. And no wonder, as it was the imperial chamber and the very heart of the Ayr empire.
There were a few people in the room but none the less of higher importance in the empires service.
Suddenly, the imperial yeoman in a royal servants dress raised his hand into the air.
"[Your undivided attention please. Hindei Tokuji, His Divine Majesty the Holy Emperor of the Ayr. Protector of all its realms and the guide of all its hands!]" he proclaimed.
The crowd turned towards the simple throne at the end of the room. The emperor appeared from a door to the side, flanked on both sides by royal guardsmen.
Every individual got down on their knees and bowed with their foreheads almost touching the floor.
The emperor calmly walked to his seat and turned to his audience. After studying his audience he spoke softly, "[Blessings upon you, loyal subjects]"
"[A thousand blessings upon you, your divine majesty.]" the crowd replied in a harmonic unison.
As the emperor sat down, the crowd finished bowing, but remained on their knees.
Hindei looked to his yeoman, who bowed in return and then gestured to one of figures in the crowd, "[Your divine majesty, Vakarus of house Va'un on the protectorate world of Adanis. He stands before your divine majesty, seeking amnesty for his exile]"
Vakarus bowed his head further before speaking up. "[Divine Majesty, I am honored not only to be in your presence but to be here within the Imperial Chambers of those who have provided for my people as well as others. I am here both express my gratitude and to ask for pardon.]"
He glanced at Yuga before continuing. "[Without loyal and capable warriors such as Captain Yuga Shuur I would never have been here. My true potential would never have been uncovered and I would have been doomed to live out the rest of my life as a criminal even though I possessed the knowledge which I knew could help my people, the people of Adanis, take the next step. Without Captain Shuur I would not have been able to locate the true path, the path of forgiveness and reconciliation.]"
"[I am a proud warrior but not too proud to admit my mistakes. The actions which granted me this exile in the first place were not commited by the same warrior which stand before you today. They were committed by a enraged fighter and not by the disciplined warrior and father that I am now many years later. It is my utmost wish that I may return to Adanis, not for selfish reasons, but to repair the damages I have done and mend the pain I caused long ago. I believe my cause to be just, however ultimately this decision falls upon your shoulders, Holy Emperor.]"
Hindei sat unmoved on his modest throne. His head turned slightly from Vakarus towards the figure next him. "Captain Yuga of House Shuur." he spoke with a slow and smooth tone.
Yuga stood up and immediately bowed deeply, "Yes, your divine majesty." she spoke with a stately manner, masking her exhilaration.
"[You consider Va'un to tell the utmost truth?]" he continued.
Yuga remained bowed, "[I have placed my trust upon the truthfulness of his words, and believe his regrets are as sincere as they can possibly be, your divine majesty.]"
Hindei remained as unfazed as ever, "[and you believe his devotion to his cause is as sincere as his devotion is to our empire and it's protectorate?]".
"[I swear it on the honor of my humble house, your divine majesty]" she replied.
Hindei sat silent for a brief moment before arising slowly, "[It will be decided in the following committee meeting.]" he communed calmly. He then walked with a graceful stride to the door as the guests of the room bowed and bid their leader farewell.
As the crowd had begun leaving the chamber, Yuga turned to Vakarus, "Va'un. Your presentation is commendable. I have faith that your plight for redemption will not be subjected to any doubts."
She motioned for him to follow, "Accompany me to the shuttle. We will make a quick visitation before we return to the estate." she said as she headed for the exit.
After a brief journey they arrived at the Hall of the Fallen, a gigantic mausoleum with accompanied fields of neatly arranged graves.
They walked in silence until they arrived at a newly erected stone with a myriad for flowers and gifts placed around it.
That stone bore the name of Junji Kensei. Posthumosly promoted to Senior Sergeant in the Royal marines and awarded the Emperors nine pointed platinum star for extraordinary service.
Yuga stood quiet for a long while and finally spoke up.
"[A part of your debt has been repaid, Senior Sergeant.]" she said. News of Yanim's death had reached Yuga two days prior.
Vakarus finished a whispering prayer. He had shared the infirmary room with Junji when he had succumb to his injuries on their way back to Ayr from the battle on Rigel.
He put his hands on Yuga's shoulder, "Yuga'ayrin. The energies of his demise have calmed."
She looked up at him. "Not quite." she replied fatalistically,
"So long as Seth Rolonso draws breath he will not have been fully repaid."
Sorry, you need to Log In to post a reply to this thread.