Arthur could only shoot a 3 second burst of lightening at Aelyn until he realize about the threat coming from CL. His options he knew are severely limited. He stays, he gets oblirated, if he thrusts back...oblirated. Arthur didn't have much time to do anything, but an idea pop into his head. An idea that's is so crazy, it might just work...he turned towards the incoming aggressor, everything so slow but happening so fast. He clocked his undisclosed engergy cell a few times and charged his knuckles with the electricity and then....CHARGED at him at great speed!
"I may be a mecha genius but that doesn't mean we've cleared the final two tiers of technology yet" The giant mechanical half body stated "I only do work on droids and other mechanical bodies as such, I don't work on technology research only that which was given to me so don't you go mocking my work!" The being lifted himself upright with his arms and crawled his way gripping onto the bullet "I think you may need a bigger cargo container otherwise this is going to be a tight squeeze" The being said as it boarded the bullet and squeezed in as best it could.
The beings legs were hidden under the same pile of rubble and scrap as which the being itself was found in. there weren't active but they were able to work and be reattached when given proper treatment but they were kept together by a graviton matrix to the main torso which had lost it's graviton matrix. The beings hand glowed blue again and his torsos matrix came right to him "agh, just great it blew a socket I'm gonna need a new one to fix it otherwise I won't be able to reconnect my legs" He held the matrix tight in hand and let the sparking socket show. "That socket kept the power flowing and now it's busted, bringing my legs alone won't do any good but I can fix this matrix if you do"
The beings legs were hidden under the same pile of rubble and scrap as which the being itself was found in. there weren't active but they were able to work and be reattached when given proper treatment but they were kept together by a graviton matrix to the main torso which had lost it's graviton matrix. The beings hand glowed blue again and his torsos matrix came right to him "agh, just great it blew a socket I'm gonna need a new one to fix it otherwise I won't be able to reconnect my legs" He held the matrix tight in hand and let the sparking socket show. "That socket kept the power flowing and now it's busted, bringing my legs alone won't do any good but I can fix this matrix if you do"
It had been a while, but the troops had finally reached their main base again. One couldn't exactly say or tell where it was located, but there was a great distance separating it and the nearest city. And lots, Lots of forest. There was no path that would lead to the camp, only some grass stomped By the people coming and going there. Simply put: a safe secured cantonment away from any towns or cities.
At the base, the troops would separate without orders, getting to whatever thing they were doing before departure. Most of them went to go get their supper though and would shortly go get some rest. Ingá would get her hands busy with the findings she had done that day, barely touching the food she was brought to her by the others that worked around her. The usual.
Dmitri left the others to work on whatever they wished, walking instead to one of the other tents. Being a higher rank officer, he'd get in without having to go through some annoying list of questions, instead he would just get in without any trouble.
The albino would make his way to the center-ish of the tent, getting into a space where another person was sitting, reading a book, having nothing better to do knowing that the visitor was just the albino. The two knew each other, being 2 of the 7 leads the cantonment had. Dmitri would sit on some boxes placed in the corner of the room, knowing that the other person would get mad if he'd sit on the table - sure there were other chairs in the room, but those were in the corner with the boxes and the albino was not feeling like moving them. Besides, te albino would prefer flat surfaces as they were more comforable for his tail and this was no interrogation, so he had no reason to move those chairs so he could sit in front of the taller person. Too much work for nothing.
"Such a strange day out there today." The albino canid would break the silence. His words didn't really seem to bother the other person all that much. "Nothing Too Much out of the ordinary overall, Ingá being herself, things getting on the way..."
The taller one would flip a page in their book while the albino would vaguely go over the details of the day, paying attention even if they didn't seem like it.
"And then there was the strange part. You do still remember the Corpse, right?" Dmirti would stretch his legs, waiting for some sign of agreement - which he did receive shortly, in a form of a nod of one's head. "Are you sure you buried him properly? I mean, no animal should have been able to get through the security to dig him up, right?"
"What do you mean?" The taller man would ask, keeping his main focus on the book still.
"I saw them today, with some stranger. Very much alive" No notable reactions were given until the last few words. "I slapped a radar on them though, but they've gone quite far already. I doubt we can reach him from here." The albino was referring to the little friendly 'slap on the back' from earlier. "I don't know exactly what is going on." He would have suspected the identical twins theory that did exists, but the albino deemed it to be to stupid to be actually relevant. Sure, he didn't completelly disregard it, but with such area they had covered, the percentage chances of finding a truly identical person were quite slim, very slim. So the relevance of that was thrown out. "Bleh, that all sounded quite stupid anyway, but he wasn't in a completelly unharmed state... Can't go blaming that on some truly different person, I guess." Dim would lazily lean on the boxes behind him.
The taller man would shake his head, placing the book away on the side of the table.
"His head?"
"Completelly intact, on a level we're looking for at least, didn't seem to have much going for that specific area. But he did look similar enough to me, just without the wounds." He'd turn his head to look at the taller man for a moment.
"In any case, we should verify at least the few cases we can." The taller man would finally get up from their seat, picking up their coat at the same time.
The albino would return to the state of paying more attention
"Should I get the showel?"
"Get the showel."
Dmitri would slide himself off the boxes, salute the other man and get out of the tent to do what he was ordered.
At the base, the troops would separate without orders, getting to whatever thing they were doing before departure. Most of them went to go get their supper though and would shortly go get some rest. Ingá would get her hands busy with the findings she had done that day, barely touching the food she was brought to her by the others that worked around her. The usual.
Dmitri left the others to work on whatever they wished, walking instead to one of the other tents. Being a higher rank officer, he'd get in without having to go through some annoying list of questions, instead he would just get in without any trouble.
The albino would make his way to the center-ish of the tent, getting into a space where another person was sitting, reading a book, having nothing better to do knowing that the visitor was just the albino. The two knew each other, being 2 of the 7 leads the cantonment had. Dmitri would sit on some boxes placed in the corner of the room, knowing that the other person would get mad if he'd sit on the table - sure there were other chairs in the room, but those were in the corner with the boxes and the albino was not feeling like moving them. Besides, te albino would prefer flat surfaces as they were more comforable for his tail and this was no interrogation, so he had no reason to move those chairs so he could sit in front of the taller person. Too much work for nothing.
"Such a strange day out there today." The albino canid would break the silence. His words didn't really seem to bother the other person all that much. "Nothing Too Much out of the ordinary overall, Ingá being herself, things getting on the way..."
The taller one would flip a page in their book while the albino would vaguely go over the details of the day, paying attention even if they didn't seem like it.
"And then there was the strange part. You do still remember the Corpse, right?" Dmirti would stretch his legs, waiting for some sign of agreement - which he did receive shortly, in a form of a nod of one's head. "Are you sure you buried him properly? I mean, no animal should have been able to get through the security to dig him up, right?"
"What do you mean?" The taller man would ask, keeping his main focus on the book still.
"I saw them today, with some stranger. Very much alive" No notable reactions were given until the last few words. "I slapped a radar on them though, but they've gone quite far already. I doubt we can reach him from here." The albino was referring to the little friendly 'slap on the back' from earlier. "I don't know exactly what is going on." He would have suspected the identical twins theory that did exists, but the albino deemed it to be to stupid to be actually relevant. Sure, he didn't completelly disregard it, but with such area they had covered, the percentage chances of finding a truly identical person were quite slim, very slim. So the relevance of that was thrown out. "Bleh, that all sounded quite stupid anyway, but he wasn't in a completelly unharmed state... Can't go blaming that on some truly different person, I guess." Dim would lazily lean on the boxes behind him.
The taller man would shake his head, placing the book away on the side of the table.
"His head?"
"Completelly intact, on a level we're looking for at least, didn't seem to have much going for that specific area. But he did look similar enough to me, just without the wounds." He'd turn his head to look at the taller man for a moment.
"In any case, we should verify at least the few cases we can." The taller man would finally get up from their seat, picking up their coat at the same time.
The albino would return to the state of paying more attention
"Should I get the showel?"
"Get the showel."
Dmitri would slide himself off the boxes, salute the other man and get out of the tent to do what he was ordered.
The boy was happy to get his wish through. For a moment he had thought that maybe Royanna was not going to soften up and he'd have to really start relying on those puppy eyes of his - or whatever you want to call the begging eyes. She did give up eventually though, lifting the German's mood. The boy would get over, not needing to roll up his sleeves as the shirt he was wearing had short sleeves that wouldn't get on the way. He'd start the massage off softly, letting her get used to the touch first, adding up some pressure and using different parts of his arms like the knuckles and even elbows if the stiffness called for it.
"You should try sleeping in a bit more relaxed position next time... Being this stiff can be harmful..."
Christofer wouldn't really speak, much at least, to ensure Kallenger didn't have to focus on anything and the 'not paying attention' -factor would help her recover faster, but he would say a few words occasionally, just to make sure that she wouldn't fall off the chair, which would end up on her possibly hurting herself or her muscles if she'd just suddenly jolt up.
Upon being complemented, Christofer would react modestly, letting out some silent sound that could be recognized as some variety of the "Mhm" sound.
"I've been practising..." He didn't want to distract her much by telling her more about himself or such - it seemed to be making her angry more often than not - so he'd just stick to only saying that for a while. In the end, it was personal information of other people if the boy would speak much of it.
"You know... Is there some place here where we can get food or something? It's probably morning already.. I wouldn't mind food..." Toffi broke the silence after massaging Kallenger for a while. He wouldn't be able to add the statement of him starting to feel slight hunger as the sentence was somewhat interrupted by the door opening, startling the German in the process and causing the yet to be stated sentence to turn into a quick and short high pitched scream as he'd jump.
"You should try sleeping in a bit more relaxed position next time... Being this stiff can be harmful..."
Christofer wouldn't really speak, much at least, to ensure Kallenger didn't have to focus on anything and the 'not paying attention' -factor would help her recover faster, but he would say a few words occasionally, just to make sure that she wouldn't fall off the chair, which would end up on her possibly hurting herself or her muscles if she'd just suddenly jolt up.
Upon being complemented, Christofer would react modestly, letting out some silent sound that could be recognized as some variety of the "Mhm" sound.
"I've been practising..." He didn't want to distract her much by telling her more about himself or such - it seemed to be making her angry more often than not - so he'd just stick to only saying that for a while. In the end, it was personal information of other people if the boy would speak much of it.
"You know... Is there some place here where we can get food or something? It's probably morning already.. I wouldn't mind food..." Toffi broke the silence after massaging Kallenger for a while. He wouldn't be able to add the statement of him starting to feel slight hunger as the sentence was somewhat interrupted by the door opening, startling the German in the process and causing the yet to be stated sentence to turn into a quick and short high pitched scream as he'd jump.
Nirix groaned from her position on the ground, vaguely aware of anything besides the dull ringing of her ears.
All she could remember was hearing a whimper, sad and hurt, which led her to believe it had been Ketin. Then, just as she was about to move something flickered in her peripheral vision and then the sound of thunder. The thunder which was so loud, that Nirix thought it would crack the air, as if the very heavens might split apart. But as her lavender eyes gazed up at the sky, she noticed that there were no rain clouds, not a single black clouds sprawl across the sky.
And then Nirix realized it; it had not been a sound of a distant storm but a gun shot. The black eyed man had attempted to shoot her and the only way she had survived a very lethal bullet to her head was by being pulled out. By the...thing.
It was definitely another odd quirk of fate and Nirix whispered a silent prayer of thanks to her gods for letting her live once again. She had been too foolish and trusting of the black eyed man and never again would she allow that to happen. Nirix had just been so worried about getting the Da'len to safety that she hadn't really thought about him crossing her. She hissed at the thought of Kete being hurt. She had to find him. Standing on wobble legs, she half way crawled and stumbled on the ground in search for the boy. Briefly she ignored the chaos happening around her, Nirix could not hear it, her ears still very much ringing from the gun shot.
"Kete?" She cried out, despite knowing that she would not be able to hear his response. Nirix used her eyes to search and scan every nook and cranny until she eventually spotted him, trembling rather violently against another wreckage. What was wrong with him? Why was he convulsing in such a manner?
All she could remember was hearing a whimper, sad and hurt, which led her to believe it had been Ketin. Then, just as she was about to move something flickered in her peripheral vision and then the sound of thunder. The thunder which was so loud, that Nirix thought it would crack the air, as if the very heavens might split apart. But as her lavender eyes gazed up at the sky, she noticed that there were no rain clouds, not a single black clouds sprawl across the sky.
And then Nirix realized it; it had not been a sound of a distant storm but a gun shot. The black eyed man had attempted to shoot her and the only way she had survived a very lethal bullet to her head was by being pulled out. By the...thing.
It was definitely another odd quirk of fate and Nirix whispered a silent prayer of thanks to her gods for letting her live once again. She had been too foolish and trusting of the black eyed man and never again would she allow that to happen. Nirix had just been so worried about getting the Da'len to safety that she hadn't really thought about him crossing her. She hissed at the thought of Kete being hurt. She had to find him. Standing on wobble legs, she half way crawled and stumbled on the ground in search for the boy. Briefly she ignored the chaos happening around her, Nirix could not hear it, her ears still very much ringing from the gun shot.
"Kete?" She cried out, despite knowing that she would not be able to hear his response. Nirix used her eyes to search and scan every nook and cranny until she eventually spotted him, trembling rather violently against another wreckage. What was wrong with him? Why was he convulsing in such a manner?
Even though that was the kind of counter that CL had expected, he didn't clearly calculated - nor he had the time to - about the consequences of Arthur's possible response. About to land a devastating blow against Arthur armored frame, The Ranger had noticed the electrical crackling that just had come from the cyborg. Still midflight, CL instead focused his strike against Arthur's knuckles and then, knuckle-to-knuckle, both finally clashed...
"Well, ****"
All the surrounding area were briefly replaced by a flash tenfold brighter than the own sun's imponent gaze immediately followed by an eardrum-bursting blast even more scandalous than Aelyn's golden gun. While CL's Blast Arm worked by directing the explosion generated from the, very delicate, fission of two Hydrogen atoms. Arthur not only managed to twist the procedure to nuclear hydrogen fusion, instead, but his charged knuckle somehow dissipated his impending doom on the environs around him and The Ranger... Which had immediately flown backwards crashing right against The Bullet due to the kinetic strength of the blast. The same fate would be reserved for Arthur, the power he was supposed to contain from his enemy came fourfold against him in the form of a vicious shock wave.
In fact, such shock wave was so dense that it could be felt even from The Bullet's interior. The results for anyone outside it where even more devastating.
"Well, ****"
All the surrounding area were briefly replaced by a flash tenfold brighter than the own sun's imponent gaze immediately followed by an eardrum-bursting blast even more scandalous than Aelyn's golden gun. While CL's Blast Arm worked by directing the explosion generated from the, very delicate, fission of two Hydrogen atoms. Arthur not only managed to twist the procedure to nuclear hydrogen fusion, instead, but his charged knuckle somehow dissipated his impending doom on the environs around him and The Ranger... Which had immediately flown backwards crashing right against The Bullet due to the kinetic strength of the blast. The same fate would be reserved for Arthur, the power he was supposed to contain from his enemy came fourfold against him in the form of a vicious shock wave.
In fact, such shock wave was so dense that it could be felt even from The Bullet's interior. The results for anyone outside it where even more devastating.
But the trigger was never pulled. The thundercrack sound had come not from Aelyn-Paeryc’s golden gun, but from the robot whom he had so haughtily disregarded only moments before. The woman was suddenly safe from his wrath – but that didn’t mean the rest of the Galaxy was.
Nothing had stopped him from pulling the trigger – but when the sudden, terrible explosion of dark matter rushed toward him, he froze. He turned with deliberate slowness to face his assailant with the most wicked, psychotic smile across his lips. For that moment, the terrible black eyes were so much more than terrible – they were downright evil. There was a madness to them – the madness of a man more ancient and more power-crazed than any man should ever be allowed to become. The furious insanity that came with a man who believed with some justification that he could never be harmed.
The dark matter lightning went through him as though nothing were there. No distortion. Nothing. The nature of the dark matter itself even allowed for it to be seen vaguely through him, even though any physical object would not have the same effect.
He had been very careful not to touch anything that he didn’t own since appearing from the beginning. He made no contact with anyone other than Alexia. Save for shooting that Not-infused gun, he had done nothing which directly affected anyone else save for talking. He had accomplished a lot just by talking, convincing, giving orders. He never actually had to fight a battle for himself.
He laughed, a positively maniacal, heaving sound, watching as his assailant moved away to retaliate against the Ranger. "COM͢E ̷ǪN͝!̨!͜" he roared, voice ragged and hoarse. Practically demonic - otherworldly. Very, very inhuman.
But this time, it was no trick of the brain. Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc was flickering. The more wild and uncontrolled his infuriated words became, the more he appeared simply not to exist at all. For microseconds at a time he seemed to disappear completely as though there was simply nothing there. He was like a television picture or very convincing hologram rapidly losing signal and sputtering out.
"YOU CAN'T DESTROY WHAT DOESN'T EXIST KAMPFER! NOBODY IN THIS UNIVERSE CAN TOUCH ME YOU UNDERSTAND?! NOBODY, NOT YOU, NOT ANYONE ELSE, IS ÌS GO-͏.҉.͞T.--͘--͞.͞S̷TO=́--̧-̡--M-̡---͡-͜ F̀R͡-..-͡M.---̢-͢.͜B̴.-.̸-̧-.̡R̛~̛!!͡ ̧ I̸̡-́͘-͢҉SE̢͝E-̡͜--̵̴Y͞--̶̨-̧͡͏HE͢L͟L̛͡͞ ̴̨̧K̛AM̀͟͠-̨͜-̡̕̕-̧̀F̶͏҉R̷̴-̧̧͘-̵-͘͘AN̶̸͞ ̸͢WE͞-̸̢͞-̀̕͠-̸̛͜R̶N҉̶-̢-͜͡-̶̀͟T̴̨O̡͢G̸-́--̵̀͝E̶R̸!̶̕!"
It was at that moment a desperately panicked Alexia would come stumbling from the pilot’s cabin – she too might have flickered in and out of existence as well.
”Ael! AEL! C’mon hon, c’mon you gotta’ relax!” She sounded downright frightened. It was such a strange juxtaposition, the way she stumbled past the cargo and tugged on his hand, reached up to put a hand on his back, trying to calm him down with all the sort of affection one might give to someone they really cared about.
It worked. A light in his eyes as he realized what was happening, and he took a deep breath, stood up straight again. One arm went to his wife’s shoulder. He stopped flickering – she did too. They exchanged a meaningful look.
Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc had just exposed his greatest advantage – and simultaneously his greatest weakness.
Then everything exploded.
Again.
Rivierre decided that CL probably had this battle covered. She’d found herself with a gut instinct that things needed very badly to proceed very quickly, or everything was going to go very badly.
Abandoning her covering fire, she slung her collapsing rifle over her shoulder, where it locked sturdily into position. She made a B-line straight for Volo and Harkahn, leaping skillfully over and around the wreckage.
No, there was not much time. But as combat-oriented as Rivierre was, she had some clever ingenuity in her as well. As she ran, she took from her belt one of the pulse-grenades holstered there – one of two – and fidgeted with it. Wordlessly, she urged the two men to get out of the way. A slight alteration to the blast functionality was easy to accomplish – simply slowing down the expansion of energy as much as physically possible. The result? She shoved the slightly modified forcefield-explosive into some cranny of one of the legs, set it off, not worrying about being within the blast radius, which had been so strongly hampered. Again, via BrainPal™, she ordered the guys to just move it, giving it a good shove to show them what she had done.
The extremely dampened field made for a makeshift antigrav-lift, or ‘hover crate’ effect. It was still heavy and it still took the strength of two men – or one Aleessa Rivierre – to push it – but it half-glided, half-floated nonetheless. The process was repeated on the other leg, and it did not take long for both of them to be halfhazardly slammed into the bullet’s cargo bay. Amusingly, one of them went gliding straight through the captain and his wife, though nobody paid this any mind. Not now.
With that, it was complete, mission success. It was in one last-ditch effort, one split-second later and they’d have all been dead. Seeing everyone aboard and having regained himself, Aelyn initiated the protocol for closing the hatch door. Harkahn, being the closest to the pilots chamber, dove to the seat and slammed down on the acceleration and lift controls. The door closed just in time to protect the inhabitants from the devastating nuclear blast from the epic battle ensuing nearby.
The bullet was well armored and difficult to penetrate – but something like that would still eviscerate any organic being unfortunate enough to be directly exposed. The Bullet itself wasn’t strong enough to completely absorb the force, either – the blast impacted the side of the machine just as it was lifting off, and sent it careening off in the wrong direction, rolling mid-air, rocking with the blow, taking a long moment to regain control before the rockets engaged full-force and sent it blasting from the scene, scorching a good patch of jungle behind it with the overdrive. It broke the sound barrier almost immediately, and though minute in comparison to the chaos seconds before, it still made very clear to anyone nearby that it was leaving in a hurry.
Aelyn had left the building.
Just like that, it stopped. Ketin’s sight returned to him in a blinding, painful flash.
The pain did not stop, it was horrible, residual – but he was conscious again. The source of his agony had left range, and almost immediately the blast was no longer affecting him.
He still would have been crippled if the previous effect hadn’t been so much worse than he could have imagined. If he had gone from normal to this it would have put him out of commission, but going from infinite agony to this made this seem like a cake walk.
He was even able to think straight, for one moment.
There were the tall, grey skyscrapers. There was Lance Corporal Hiram Craft in the street. There was the disgusting rebel behind him, high above, leaning out that window with that improvised explosive. There was no time to allow for pain to get him, he had a life to save. It was the only time that the battle would go badly, but he was not going to lose a man to…to…
It was immediately obvious to any onlooker – of which there was only currently one – that his previous convulsing had been due to some kind of intense pain in his head. The look on his face made that clear, as did the way he clutched at his left eye, the exhausted, haggard feel to his movements. But one only had the briefest second to notice this, since despite everything, within a flash he was moving again.
He had heard her call his name.
She was close enough. Coming to life, clearly ignoring to the best of his ability whatever terror had plagued his brain and continued at this moment to try and decommission him – he stumbled to his feet. Wordlessly, he grabbed Nirix’s arm and yanked with a surprising force, rapidly reversing his direction, pulling her with him, pulling her over as he worked over the debris he had been on moments prior, taking cover behind it. It had been a door – severed from the ship of course, lain horizontally so that with a simple movement of electrons he had no problem in ‘activating’ it, just enough to send it shooting up, like a curved, rectangular shield rising from the rubble to cover them and provide a barrier between them and…
And the devastating detonation that followed hardly a second later. The force of it could do little at such a distance to a solid metal sheet, especially with that convenient curve to send the blast over their heads and around their sides instead of into their fleshy bodies. The sound of it was tremendous, the force of it incomprehensible.
And in the aftermath, Kete was clinging to Nirix. Breathing heavily, trembling in exertion and residual pain, but clinging still in a manner which could only have been described as desperately protective. His grip was so tight it might have even been a tad painful.
”You’re probably right.” Roya said humored, smiling just light enough for the expression to matter.
Royanna was always stiff. Constantly hunting the most wanted criminal in the Galaxy was stressful work and she didn’t exactly have an expansive support network. It was good to be at the top of the pyramid, typically – but when someone at the top of command needed a little support there was nowhere to lean. If they leaned they’d only fall off and go tumbling back to the bottom.
But this kid was doing a great job of helping her forget her miserable failure – forget the eighteen, probably twenty deaths she was indirectly responsible for.
No, she was directly responsible. But… again, she didn’t have to think about that for the moment.
By the time he had finished, she had loosened up a great deal. Residual soreness was present, but nothing significant enough for her to even react visibly.
Astoundingly, the smile didn’t leave her the entire time.
”Yeah,” she said, ”These cataloguers usually have pretty good canteens. Never been on this one before but they’re usually pretty constant. I’ll-“ But her words were cut off by Christofer’s loud, sudden, frightened yelp – and her reaction was immediate.
It served to undo all poor Toffi’s progress in un-tensing Royanna, but with lightning reflex she was out of the chair with revolver drawn and aimed some half an inch from the face of whoever had been unlucky enough to open the door and scare her friend.
In the stillness and silence of the moment that followed, she realized that again she had gone and hurt herself, aiming her gun – which, yes, she slept with – with her usual gun-wielding hand, that being her left. That arm shook some with the effort of taking it, she winced. This was separate and proceeding her reaction to who she had actually aimed her gun at.
Begrudgingly, Royanna lowered her weapon, sorely re-holstered it, stepped back and gave a weak, noncommittal salute. It was a strange salute – a fisted hand extended, then brought to the chest.
”Captain Perry.” she greeted, her voice low, somewhat abashed at her reaction, somewhat pained from the unnecessary strain of her arm, and not entirely pleased with who she was facing.
The man stepped into the room finally. He was surprisingly average in appearance – short, slicked black hair beneath a peaked naval officer’s cap, face of a dark beige, sharp features, unhappy brown eyes. Slightly taller than Royanna herself.
Also he was a Nazi.
Or, at least, he certainly looked like a Nazi down to all but the smallest details. Not that anyone now had even the faintest idea what a Nazi was – still, from the high, polished boots and tufted trousers, to the double-breasted jacket and peaked cap – he looked like a high raking, Kriegsmarine officer straight out of 1944. All except the insignia on his cap, which showed as the same diamond shaped symbol which Royanna’s badge had been shaped like before being separated into two parts.
”My sincerest apologies if I…startled you.” the man said, in an entirely unapologetic and insincere tone. His voice was deeper than one might expect, though not excessively so.
”Save it.” Royanna retorted back – making immediately clear that if this man was of a higher rank than she was, that did not matter to Ms. Kallenger. It also implied that she knew him well enough – it was no friendly retort she spat.
”As respectful of your comrades as ever, I see. It’s been a while. I had no idea the agents we were picking up were our very own DEU. Things didn’t go well, I presume?”
Kallenger didn’t take the bait. ”What do you want, Perry?” she demanded.
”Firstly I would like to know precisely why you have brought one of…his kind onto my ship.” Perry gave an openly disgusted, down-nosed grimace at Christofer. Royanna was quick and hyperdefensive in her reply.
”That is my business alone, Captain. And you see what he’s wearing around his neck, right?” She was referring to the other half of her shiny, blue-green metallic badge which still hung around her neck. She had, after all, instructed him not to be without it at any time when she originally gave it to him.
”I do.” The Captain growled. ”But let me be clear, Ms. Kallenger, that you are guests aboard my-“ in a further disregard for military protocol and basic respect for authority, Kallenger cut him off again with rapid, venomous words hissed lowly and threateningly.
”No, let me be clear. Your ‘ship’ is an Imperial Cataloguer operating under Non-Interference Ordinance 76 and I don’t give a rat’s ass if you think you can boss me around. You or anyone else on this tub so much as put one goddamn finger on that boy and so help me Space I will put this whole stinking boat out of commission, got it?”
There was a long moment of silence. Perry returned eyes to her as she spoke her piece, and held them there for a long moment. He seemed to be trying to read her mind, for the intensity and nonconcomitance of his look. Then, without bidding farewell or any kind of salute, he spun and left.
Kallenger took another long moment to stand there and just be angry.
She had already said she was in a Special Forces division – but had she mentioned anything else beyond that? That she led said division – but nothing more. When it came right down to it, who was this woman, and why could she get away with talking to someone as clearly high-ranked as that captain? Who exactly had Toffi gotten himself tangled up with? And…was it a good thing, or…?
It didn’t take long for the Hitzen soldiers to follow along, so that they all stood within that cavernous control room. It was cold – most of them had forgotten that until Ducote mentioned it. Even their breath, visible in the staleness of the still air, seemed not to matter in the expanse of it. Even Reltakov managed to stumble numbly along behind them, still holding his pistol in hand with rifle slug over back. Since there had been no more sounds of combat after that initial grenade, the Hitzen Special Forces in their reddish urban camouflage also slung rifles. Unnerving as the place was, it did not seem dangerous. Even guard robots or turrets were probably long out of commission.
It was Corporal E’tzu Tsuan whom Ducote had pointed at. He had paler skin and sharper features than the others – and apparently a sharper tongue as well. He crossed his arms and scowled with some sense of suspicion. ”corporal E’tzu Tsuan.” He said bitterly. Apparently being referred to as ‘you’ had disrespected him. ”What, you still don’t trust us? The’ is no war left to fight. We aren’t going to-“ but his words were cut off by the wounded man, who had earlier been implied as the highest of their ranks among them.
”I do not think our friend means it that way, Corporal. I am wounded and if we are to turn these two units into one we must integrate. You understand this.”
Tsuan uncrossed his arms, giving a mild surrendering gesture. ”Yes, yes, I’m sorry.”
The third of them spoke up. ”We all on edge. I think it will get better. We need trust.” he made an interlocking gesture with his gloved fingers. He was the shortest of them, with the darkest skin in a ruddy, dull sort of brown.
And so it was decided. The brownish-skinned man introduced himself as Corporal Hdz’ra Sanè, and good-humoredly insisted nobody try to pronounce his first name. The wounded man who had something of a round face despite his thin physique, claimed Captain Leng Tze.
Dallen and Tsuan followed Ducote. Sand went with Tsuan – given their apparent tendency to keep quiet until they had something useful or wise to say, they seemed like a good pair. Captain Tze took Reltakov, deciding that even though he was wounded, he was still probably the best to handle the traumatized kid’s thousand-yard-stare. There had been little in the way of maps in the control room, so it was decided that while Ducote and company explored the hangars, the other two groups would just follow the main hallway and split off at the end, or wherever something seemed worth looking around.
”Hot ****, Ducote. You sure know how to pick a spot.” Dallen commented, again – she was still by far the most spooked by this place. Not afraid of course – seemed she wasn’t really afraid of anything – but certainly on-edge and ready to shoot anything that moved. She was the only one still holding her rifle and she wasn’t going to be letting go any time soon. ”I’d rather hide out in the jungle and do guerilla warfare ****.”
”Trust me, you don’t want that.” Tsuan piped up suddenly, humor in his voice, even a little laugh. ”I lived in jungles, bad enough trying to find a place to **** without getting killed by the local wildlife, let alone trying to survive a war.” And Dallen laughed a little. Those two were getting along, at least.
As for the others? Only they could know what they were doing now.
Nothing had stopped him from pulling the trigger – but when the sudden, terrible explosion of dark matter rushed toward him, he froze. He turned with deliberate slowness to face his assailant with the most wicked, psychotic smile across his lips. For that moment, the terrible black eyes were so much more than terrible – they were downright evil. There was a madness to them – the madness of a man more ancient and more power-crazed than any man should ever be allowed to become. The furious insanity that came with a man who believed with some justification that he could never be harmed.
The dark matter lightning went through him as though nothing were there. No distortion. Nothing. The nature of the dark matter itself even allowed for it to be seen vaguely through him, even though any physical object would not have the same effect.
He had been very careful not to touch anything that he didn’t own since appearing from the beginning. He made no contact with anyone other than Alexia. Save for shooting that Not-infused gun, he had done nothing which directly affected anyone else save for talking. He had accomplished a lot just by talking, convincing, giving orders. He never actually had to fight a battle for himself.
He laughed, a positively maniacal, heaving sound, watching as his assailant moved away to retaliate against the Ranger. "COM͢E ̷ǪN͝!̨!͜" he roared, voice ragged and hoarse. Practically demonic - otherworldly. Very, very inhuman.
But this time, it was no trick of the brain. Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc was flickering. The more wild and uncontrolled his infuriated words became, the more he appeared simply not to exist at all. For microseconds at a time he seemed to disappear completely as though there was simply nothing there. He was like a television picture or very convincing hologram rapidly losing signal and sputtering out.
"YOU CAN'T DESTROY WHAT DOESN'T EXIST KAMPFER! NOBODY IN THIS UNIVERSE CAN TOUCH ME YOU UNDERSTAND?! NOBODY, NOT YOU, NOT ANYONE ELSE, IS ÌS GO-͏.҉.͞T.--͘--͞.͞S̷TO=́--̧-̡--M-̡---͡-͜ F̀R͡-..-͡M.---̢-͢.͜B̴.-.̸-̧-.̡R̛~̛!!͡ ̧ I̸̡-́͘-͢҉SE̢͝E-̡͜--̵̴Y͞--̶̨-̧͡͏HE͢L͟L̛͡͞ ̴̨̧K̛AM̀͟͠-̨͜-̡̕̕-̧̀F̶͏҉R̷̴-̧̧͘-̵-͘͘AN̶̸͞ ̸͢WE͞-̸̢͞-̀̕͠-̸̛͜R̶N҉̶-̢-͜͡-̶̀͟T̴̨O̡͢G̸-́--̵̀͝E̶R̸!̶̕!"
It was at that moment a desperately panicked Alexia would come stumbling from the pilot’s cabin – she too might have flickered in and out of existence as well.
”Ael! AEL! C’mon hon, c’mon you gotta’ relax!” She sounded downright frightened. It was such a strange juxtaposition, the way she stumbled past the cargo and tugged on his hand, reached up to put a hand on his back, trying to calm him down with all the sort of affection one might give to someone they really cared about.
It worked. A light in his eyes as he realized what was happening, and he took a deep breath, stood up straight again. One arm went to his wife’s shoulder. He stopped flickering – she did too. They exchanged a meaningful look.
Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc had just exposed his greatest advantage – and simultaneously his greatest weakness.
Then everything exploded.
Again.
Rivierre decided that CL probably had this battle covered. She’d found herself with a gut instinct that things needed very badly to proceed very quickly, or everything was going to go very badly.
Abandoning her covering fire, she slung her collapsing rifle over her shoulder, where it locked sturdily into position. She made a B-line straight for Volo and Harkahn, leaping skillfully over and around the wreckage.
No, there was not much time. But as combat-oriented as Rivierre was, she had some clever ingenuity in her as well. As she ran, she took from her belt one of the pulse-grenades holstered there – one of two – and fidgeted with it. Wordlessly, she urged the two men to get out of the way. A slight alteration to the blast functionality was easy to accomplish – simply slowing down the expansion of energy as much as physically possible. The result? She shoved the slightly modified forcefield-explosive into some cranny of one of the legs, set it off, not worrying about being within the blast radius, which had been so strongly hampered. Again, via BrainPal™, she ordered the guys to just move it, giving it a good shove to show them what she had done.
The extremely dampened field made for a makeshift antigrav-lift, or ‘hover crate’ effect. It was still heavy and it still took the strength of two men – or one Aleessa Rivierre – to push it – but it half-glided, half-floated nonetheless. The process was repeated on the other leg, and it did not take long for both of them to be halfhazardly slammed into the bullet’s cargo bay. Amusingly, one of them went gliding straight through the captain and his wife, though nobody paid this any mind. Not now.
With that, it was complete, mission success. It was in one last-ditch effort, one split-second later and they’d have all been dead. Seeing everyone aboard and having regained himself, Aelyn initiated the protocol for closing the hatch door. Harkahn, being the closest to the pilots chamber, dove to the seat and slammed down on the acceleration and lift controls. The door closed just in time to protect the inhabitants from the devastating nuclear blast from the epic battle ensuing nearby.
The bullet was well armored and difficult to penetrate – but something like that would still eviscerate any organic being unfortunate enough to be directly exposed. The Bullet itself wasn’t strong enough to completely absorb the force, either – the blast impacted the side of the machine just as it was lifting off, and sent it careening off in the wrong direction, rolling mid-air, rocking with the blow, taking a long moment to regain control before the rockets engaged full-force and sent it blasting from the scene, scorching a good patch of jungle behind it with the overdrive. It broke the sound barrier almost immediately, and though minute in comparison to the chaos seconds before, it still made very clear to anyone nearby that it was leaving in a hurry.
Aelyn had left the building.
Just like that, it stopped. Ketin’s sight returned to him in a blinding, painful flash.
The pain did not stop, it was horrible, residual – but he was conscious again. The source of his agony had left range, and almost immediately the blast was no longer affecting him.
He still would have been crippled if the previous effect hadn’t been so much worse than he could have imagined. If he had gone from normal to this it would have put him out of commission, but going from infinite agony to this made this seem like a cake walk.
He was even able to think straight, for one moment.
There were the tall, grey skyscrapers. There was Lance Corporal Hiram Craft in the street. There was the disgusting rebel behind him, high above, leaning out that window with that improvised explosive. There was no time to allow for pain to get him, he had a life to save. It was the only time that the battle would go badly, but he was not going to lose a man to…to…
It was immediately obvious to any onlooker – of which there was only currently one – that his previous convulsing had been due to some kind of intense pain in his head. The look on his face made that clear, as did the way he clutched at his left eye, the exhausted, haggard feel to his movements. But one only had the briefest second to notice this, since despite everything, within a flash he was moving again.
He had heard her call his name.
She was close enough. Coming to life, clearly ignoring to the best of his ability whatever terror had plagued his brain and continued at this moment to try and decommission him – he stumbled to his feet. Wordlessly, he grabbed Nirix’s arm and yanked with a surprising force, rapidly reversing his direction, pulling her with him, pulling her over as he worked over the debris he had been on moments prior, taking cover behind it. It had been a door – severed from the ship of course, lain horizontally so that with a simple movement of electrons he had no problem in ‘activating’ it, just enough to send it shooting up, like a curved, rectangular shield rising from the rubble to cover them and provide a barrier between them and…
And the devastating detonation that followed hardly a second later. The force of it could do little at such a distance to a solid metal sheet, especially with that convenient curve to send the blast over their heads and around their sides instead of into their fleshy bodies. The sound of it was tremendous, the force of it incomprehensible.
And in the aftermath, Kete was clinging to Nirix. Breathing heavily, trembling in exertion and residual pain, but clinging still in a manner which could only have been described as desperately protective. His grip was so tight it might have even been a tad painful.
”You’re probably right.” Roya said humored, smiling just light enough for the expression to matter.
Royanna was always stiff. Constantly hunting the most wanted criminal in the Galaxy was stressful work and she didn’t exactly have an expansive support network. It was good to be at the top of the pyramid, typically – but when someone at the top of command needed a little support there was nowhere to lean. If they leaned they’d only fall off and go tumbling back to the bottom.
But this kid was doing a great job of helping her forget her miserable failure – forget the eighteen, probably twenty deaths she was indirectly responsible for.
No, she was directly responsible. But… again, she didn’t have to think about that for the moment.
By the time he had finished, she had loosened up a great deal. Residual soreness was present, but nothing significant enough for her to even react visibly.
Astoundingly, the smile didn’t leave her the entire time.
”Yeah,” she said, ”These cataloguers usually have pretty good canteens. Never been on this one before but they’re usually pretty constant. I’ll-“ But her words were cut off by Christofer’s loud, sudden, frightened yelp – and her reaction was immediate.
It served to undo all poor Toffi’s progress in un-tensing Royanna, but with lightning reflex she was out of the chair with revolver drawn and aimed some half an inch from the face of whoever had been unlucky enough to open the door and scare her friend.
In the stillness and silence of the moment that followed, she realized that again she had gone and hurt herself, aiming her gun – which, yes, she slept with – with her usual gun-wielding hand, that being her left. That arm shook some with the effort of taking it, she winced. This was separate and proceeding her reaction to who she had actually aimed her gun at.
Begrudgingly, Royanna lowered her weapon, sorely re-holstered it, stepped back and gave a weak, noncommittal salute. It was a strange salute – a fisted hand extended, then brought to the chest.
”Captain Perry.” she greeted, her voice low, somewhat abashed at her reaction, somewhat pained from the unnecessary strain of her arm, and not entirely pleased with who she was facing.
The man stepped into the room finally. He was surprisingly average in appearance – short, slicked black hair beneath a peaked naval officer’s cap, face of a dark beige, sharp features, unhappy brown eyes. Slightly taller than Royanna herself.
Also he was a Nazi.
Or, at least, he certainly looked like a Nazi down to all but the smallest details. Not that anyone now had even the faintest idea what a Nazi was – still, from the high, polished boots and tufted trousers, to the double-breasted jacket and peaked cap – he looked like a high raking, Kriegsmarine officer straight out of 1944. All except the insignia on his cap, which showed as the same diamond shaped symbol which Royanna’s badge had been shaped like before being separated into two parts.
”My sincerest apologies if I…startled you.” the man said, in an entirely unapologetic and insincere tone. His voice was deeper than one might expect, though not excessively so.
”Save it.” Royanna retorted back – making immediately clear that if this man was of a higher rank than she was, that did not matter to Ms. Kallenger. It also implied that she knew him well enough – it was no friendly retort she spat.
”As respectful of your comrades as ever, I see. It’s been a while. I had no idea the agents we were picking up were our very own DEU. Things didn’t go well, I presume?”
Kallenger didn’t take the bait. ”What do you want, Perry?” she demanded.
”Firstly I would like to know precisely why you have brought one of…his kind onto my ship.” Perry gave an openly disgusted, down-nosed grimace at Christofer. Royanna was quick and hyperdefensive in her reply.
”That is my business alone, Captain. And you see what he’s wearing around his neck, right?” She was referring to the other half of her shiny, blue-green metallic badge which still hung around her neck. She had, after all, instructed him not to be without it at any time when she originally gave it to him.
”I do.” The Captain growled. ”But let me be clear, Ms. Kallenger, that you are guests aboard my-“ in a further disregard for military protocol and basic respect for authority, Kallenger cut him off again with rapid, venomous words hissed lowly and threateningly.
”No, let me be clear. Your ‘ship’ is an Imperial Cataloguer operating under Non-Interference Ordinance 76 and I don’t give a rat’s ass if you think you can boss me around. You or anyone else on this tub so much as put one goddamn finger on that boy and so help me Space I will put this whole stinking boat out of commission, got it?”
There was a long moment of silence. Perry returned eyes to her as she spoke her piece, and held them there for a long moment. He seemed to be trying to read her mind, for the intensity and nonconcomitance of his look. Then, without bidding farewell or any kind of salute, he spun and left.
Kallenger took another long moment to stand there and just be angry.
She had already said she was in a Special Forces division – but had she mentioned anything else beyond that? That she led said division – but nothing more. When it came right down to it, who was this woman, and why could she get away with talking to someone as clearly high-ranked as that captain? Who exactly had Toffi gotten himself tangled up with? And…was it a good thing, or…?
It didn’t take long for the Hitzen soldiers to follow along, so that they all stood within that cavernous control room. It was cold – most of them had forgotten that until Ducote mentioned it. Even their breath, visible in the staleness of the still air, seemed not to matter in the expanse of it. Even Reltakov managed to stumble numbly along behind them, still holding his pistol in hand with rifle slug over back. Since there had been no more sounds of combat after that initial grenade, the Hitzen Special Forces in their reddish urban camouflage also slung rifles. Unnerving as the place was, it did not seem dangerous. Even guard robots or turrets were probably long out of commission.
It was Corporal E’tzu Tsuan whom Ducote had pointed at. He had paler skin and sharper features than the others – and apparently a sharper tongue as well. He crossed his arms and scowled with some sense of suspicion. ”corporal E’tzu Tsuan.” He said bitterly. Apparently being referred to as ‘you’ had disrespected him. ”What, you still don’t trust us? The’ is no war left to fight. We aren’t going to-“ but his words were cut off by the wounded man, who had earlier been implied as the highest of their ranks among them.
”I do not think our friend means it that way, Corporal. I am wounded and if we are to turn these two units into one we must integrate. You understand this.”
Tsuan uncrossed his arms, giving a mild surrendering gesture. ”Yes, yes, I’m sorry.”
The third of them spoke up. ”We all on edge. I think it will get better. We need trust.” he made an interlocking gesture with his gloved fingers. He was the shortest of them, with the darkest skin in a ruddy, dull sort of brown.
And so it was decided. The brownish-skinned man introduced himself as Corporal Hdz’ra Sanè, and good-humoredly insisted nobody try to pronounce his first name. The wounded man who had something of a round face despite his thin physique, claimed Captain Leng Tze.
Dallen and Tsuan followed Ducote. Sand went with Tsuan – given their apparent tendency to keep quiet until they had something useful or wise to say, they seemed like a good pair. Captain Tze took Reltakov, deciding that even though he was wounded, he was still probably the best to handle the traumatized kid’s thousand-yard-stare. There had been little in the way of maps in the control room, so it was decided that while Ducote and company explored the hangars, the other two groups would just follow the main hallway and split off at the end, or wherever something seemed worth looking around.
”Hot ****, Ducote. You sure know how to pick a spot.” Dallen commented, again – she was still by far the most spooked by this place. Not afraid of course – seemed she wasn’t really afraid of anything – but certainly on-edge and ready to shoot anything that moved. She was the only one still holding her rifle and she wasn’t going to be letting go any time soon. ”I’d rather hide out in the jungle and do guerilla warfare ****.”
”Trust me, you don’t want that.” Tsuan piped up suddenly, humor in his voice, even a little laugh. ”I lived in jungles, bad enough trying to find a place to **** without getting killed by the local wildlife, let alone trying to survive a war.” And Dallen laughed a little. Those two were getting along, at least.
As for the others? Only they could know what they were doing now.
The blast from the impact sent Arthur flying into a pile of junk. During his flight, his thrusters kicked in try to slow him down, but did very little to do so. He was in a daze as he lay on the pile of junk, all of his shields down and minor damage on his hand, which made it relatively functional.
The cruiser was ready to fire at the bullet just as it took off, the few rounds it got off hit into the jungle and the ship tried its best to track it but to no avail.
Arthur just laid on the pile thinking on what just happened and allowing the auto repair system fix up the minor damage he sustain, he himself impress on how he was designed and how little damage he actually took, obvious that Kampfer designed Arthur for durability than looks. Arthur just laid down not caring in the world, reluctant in getting up like a being not getting up out of there bed in the morning since it's a Monday.
The cruiser was ready to fire at the bullet just as it took off, the few rounds it got off hit into the jungle and the ship tried its best to track it but to no avail.
Arthur just laid on the pile thinking on what just happened and allowing the auto repair system fix up the minor damage he sustain, he himself impress on how he was designed and how little damage he actually took, obvious that Kampfer designed Arthur for durability than looks. Arthur just laid down not caring in the world, reluctant in getting up like a being not getting up out of there bed in the morning since it's a Monday.
Oh how little D-company knew of the secret that the artic base held. Deep underneath the base behind a slightly frozen metal door, lay the deep sleep of the feared Frost Queen Cathorine, a Queen from the times of the Sol Republic, were her empire was feared and respected because of her usage of manipulation of Ice and water, and her usage of advance technology from Kampfer in which both were allied too. If any of the could find files of some sort they would see that the facility was used for testing Ice manipulation and one name, Doctor Glades, a well respected colleague of Kampfer, who work for more of the biological factor of science unlike Kampfer who worked more on the mechanics part. By Kampfer, she was able spy on other scientists from other Empires to see how advance they were...she even spied on Doctor Aller and his experiments....
At the cost of overheating his Blast Arm almost to it's limits and the depletion of a good portion of hydrogen unto his tanks, the Ranger managed to protect his computer assisted functions merely by directing the blast against Arthur knuckle. Still, this didn't mean that CL came unscathed from the blast. The rear part of his armor took the most damage due to the violent crash against The Bullet, not to mention the immense kinetic force he took straight unto his chest and face. His cybernetic parts, specially his arm still crackled with thin waves of electricity, somehow overcharged from the attack of his enemy.
Slowly getting back to his feet, CL took his HVEC Revolver from it's holster, looking up just to witness the Bullet going straight up like intended. Even though more trouble waited for him, CL knew that his mission was complete and that Aelyn had to pay him somehow. Now, his only one objective at the moment was to get the hell out of there... And that's when he laid his eyes on the two strangers clutched together. Clarke & T'relis.
"Yo..." - Like always, he would approach with his gun lifted towards them. - "Stand up. Now."
Even though he kept his piercing red glare at the ~couple~, The Ranger would shift his vision towards the trail of smoke that Arthur left behind before crashing against the jungle.
Slowly getting back to his feet, CL took his HVEC Revolver from it's holster, looking up just to witness the Bullet going straight up like intended. Even though more trouble waited for him, CL knew that his mission was complete and that Aelyn had to pay him somehow. Now, his only one objective at the moment was to get the hell out of there... And that's when he laid his eyes on the two strangers clutched together. Clarke & T'relis.
"Yo..." - Like always, he would approach with his gun lifted towards them. - "Stand up. Now."
Even though he kept his piercing red glare at the ~couple~, The Ranger would shift his vision towards the trail of smoke that Arthur left behind before crashing against the jungle.
The giant mechanical being was at work on his graviton matrix trying to repair what he could without his necessary parts "Blast it. Where are we even going?" the grumpy mech said "I need a new capacitor for this matrix otherwise my legs will never get reconnected with my torso" he stated and kept working on what he was able to with his graviton matrix. The science behind the matrix was simple, it locked signals with its counterpart which shares a 2 way street signal wise and both grab onto each other by bonding invisible strings called Graviton Bonds which link together and draw strength from the capacitors within the matrix, when the capacitors suffer damage then the bonds grow weaker and eventually will fail if the capacitor is not repaired. "If anything at least give me time to search through your scrap piles or something when we disembark from this tiny vessel"
She was pulled, nearly tripping over her own two feet and dropping her almost discarded weapons in the process. Nirix had no idea where Kete was dragging her, but was happy nonetheless. The farther they got away from that shuttle, the farther trouble would likely follow them.
That was until he threw them behind a well hidden metal shield before a detonation sounded off.
Nirix blinked, slightly disorientated during this normally adrenaline and fearfully filled moment. Ketin had saved her, no he had saved them. For now their roles were switched and when the fire power blast had ended and the Da'len's arms pulled her into a trembling yet extremely strong embrace, all the Eoclu could do was smile to prevent from crying.
Why was he saving her? Nirix had thought about their roles differently, had wanted to do the protecting instead of being the one protected. She was suppose to be the one to save the boy, had basically pledged herself to the cause of granting him his freedom. Yet here she was, hiding behind a charred metal wall and being hugged until she swore she could feel one of her bones crack.
With a small and warm grin, Nirix returned the embrace, muttering a silent prayer to her gods. They had sent her a gift as well, a gift of-
Soft footsteps dulled to meet her still damaged eardrums. Someone was approaching them and true to her thoughts, a strange masked man appeared, gun pointed at the both of them while his red gaze looked them over. Instincts kicking in, Nirix took a step forward, pushing Kete behind her. She would not fail this time in protecting him, his favor had to be returned.
"Ar'din nuvenin na'din, I do not want to kill you," Nirix warned, her hand slowly reaching for the hilt of her blade. The assassin spoke the truth, however if he prompted her to, she would attack him to keep Ketin safe. With the inability to see into the being's eyes, Nirix was slightly on edge. She had learned her lesson on being too trusting but still. How could see read someone's actions if she could not see them entirely? Nirix would just have to go back to the basics, she would watch his every action and listen to his every word and then react to it.
That was until he threw them behind a well hidden metal shield before a detonation sounded off.
Nirix blinked, slightly disorientated during this normally adrenaline and fearfully filled moment. Ketin had saved her, no he had saved them. For now their roles were switched and when the fire power blast had ended and the Da'len's arms pulled her into a trembling yet extremely strong embrace, all the Eoclu could do was smile to prevent from crying.
Why was he saving her? Nirix had thought about their roles differently, had wanted to do the protecting instead of being the one protected. She was suppose to be the one to save the boy, had basically pledged herself to the cause of granting him his freedom. Yet here she was, hiding behind a charred metal wall and being hugged until she swore she could feel one of her bones crack.
With a small and warm grin, Nirix returned the embrace, muttering a silent prayer to her gods. They had sent her a gift as well, a gift of-
Soft footsteps dulled to meet her still damaged eardrums. Someone was approaching them and true to her thoughts, a strange masked man appeared, gun pointed at the both of them while his red gaze looked them over. Instincts kicking in, Nirix took a step forward, pushing Kete behind her. She would not fail this time in protecting him, his favor had to be returned.
"Ar'din nuvenin na'din, I do not want to kill you," Nirix warned, her hand slowly reaching for the hilt of her blade. The assassin spoke the truth, however if he prompted her to, she would attack him to keep Ketin safe. With the inability to see into the being's eyes, Nirix was slightly on edge. She had learned her lesson on being too trusting but still. How could see read someone's actions if she could not see them entirely? Nirix would just have to go back to the basics, she would watch his every action and listen to his every word and then react to it.
After a few moments, Kete realized that he might be clinging just a little too tightly, and let up. He half-fell to a sitting position, still shaking a little, still breathing heavily and looking more than a little drained. Still, he smiled weakly at her with a tired expression that might have said 'boy, that was sure something, wasn't it?'.
But his relief over having survived and saved his friend was gone in a heartbeat as he saw the outer side of their little shield from a pair of eyes that he would rather not have seen it from. He was...he was angry, not furious. Overly cautious. This was workable.
And so Kete dug. He hated doing this, but sometimes there seemed to be no other way. How to convince a paranoid madman who doesn't know you that you're not worth killing? He needed memories - needed to convince the armed man that Kete had some kind of value to him. It was astonishing how often Kete thought of himself in terms of value to others - perhaps not the most healthy manner of thinking, but it worked out. Usually.
He had collected an ample arsenal of bovine-feces before the Masked Man even rounded that corner to speak to them.
He looked no less startled than one might expect, but his frightened expression turned to a bright, bewildered smile.
"As I live and...Is it really you? CL - the Mad Ranger, the Masked Man? Great Galaxy!" Kete scrambled to his feet shortly after being ordered to do so, saluted, then extended a hand. "Casey DeFox, Sir - Military Police off The Strip. Defected after Hoover Dam - Great Galaxy it's an honor to meet you, I'm a huge fan of your work!" he stumbled over his words a little, and for all the Universe seemed as though he had just met his biggest idol. (Casey...K. C. How furiously clever of him.)
Nirix might have been aware of a lingering nervousness in him, but otherwise it was a fantastic act.
Was it an act?
"They call me the Devil Eye Sir - boy, I'd always dreamed of being outlaw buddies with The Ranger but - er, I mean, I'm not trying to impose or anything, Just saying, yknow, I might'a only been MP but I like to think I know a badass when I see one~!"
He was nothing short of an adoring fan - if perhaps with a better hairstyle.
The trick was to use what Kete called 'keywords'. Words that he couldn't have known unless he had a legitimate reason to. They were also easy to latch onto in the mind, easier than the memories themselves, which could take some analyzing and piecing together. Sure, going on keywords alone could mean haphazardly throwing a story together and using them out of context, but he talked fast and it usually went over pretty well.
His tail swayed behind him. He rocked back and forth on his heels a little, never letting that bright smile off his face - wide, toothy, foxy smile.
But his relief over having survived and saved his friend was gone in a heartbeat as he saw the outer side of their little shield from a pair of eyes that he would rather not have seen it from. He was...he was angry, not furious. Overly cautious. This was workable.
And so Kete dug. He hated doing this, but sometimes there seemed to be no other way. How to convince a paranoid madman who doesn't know you that you're not worth killing? He needed memories - needed to convince the armed man that Kete had some kind of value to him. It was astonishing how often Kete thought of himself in terms of value to others - perhaps not the most healthy manner of thinking, but it worked out. Usually.
He had collected an ample arsenal of bovine-feces before the Masked Man even rounded that corner to speak to them.
He looked no less startled than one might expect, but his frightened expression turned to a bright, bewildered smile.
"As I live and...Is it really you? CL - the Mad Ranger, the Masked Man? Great Galaxy!" Kete scrambled to his feet shortly after being ordered to do so, saluted, then extended a hand. "Casey DeFox, Sir - Military Police off The Strip. Defected after Hoover Dam - Great Galaxy it's an honor to meet you, I'm a huge fan of your work!" he stumbled over his words a little, and for all the Universe seemed as though he had just met his biggest idol. (Casey...K. C. How furiously clever of him.)
Nirix might have been aware of a lingering nervousness in him, but otherwise it was a fantastic act.
Was it an act?
"They call me the Devil Eye Sir - boy, I'd always dreamed of being outlaw buddies with The Ranger but - er, I mean, I'm not trying to impose or anything, Just saying, yknow, I might'a only been MP but I like to think I know a badass when I see one~!"
He was nothing short of an adoring fan - if perhaps with a better hairstyle.
The trick was to use what Kete called 'keywords'. Words that he couldn't have known unless he had a legitimate reason to. They were also easy to latch onto in the mind, easier than the memories themselves, which could take some analyzing and piecing together. Sure, going on keywords alone could mean haphazardly throwing a story together and using them out of context, but he talked fast and it usually went over pretty well.
His tail swayed behind him. He rocked back and forth on his heels a little, never letting that bright smile off his face - wide, toothy, foxy smile.
With his arm severely damaged, the Ranger had to get dangerously close to the duo for a possible clear shot. Even with the leather lining of his Nanocarbonite fiber trenchcoat completely burn off from the blast and the flesh in contact with his arm grizzly charred, CL stood with a firm grip merely 10 feet away from Nirix and Ketin. "Otherwise, you'd have a bullet stuck in your head rig--" - However, his monologue were cut short by the fox-like boy, which looked like peculiarly familiar for some reason. That's when the word "Devil Eye" came out: Why, a so valuable bounty standing right in front of the so-called Mad Ranger at this very moment? CL could almost cringe due to the fact he had to put the decision of shooting the boy right into the forehead aside.
"Heh, Where the heck did'cha got my codename... ?" - If it wasn't by the subtle chuckle that Ketin had managed to take from the Ranger, it could be said that he and his partner would be dead meat by that moment. Not even an two century old Eoclu would match against the Ranger with a Big Iron. - "Matters not. Who's you with? The cybercreep?" - He made sure to tilt his crimsom glare to where Arthur had possibly crash landed. - "The soldiers? Lost bounty hunters? Came to hunt me? Who? Speak up."
"Heh, Where the heck did'cha got my codename... ?" - If it wasn't by the subtle chuckle that Ketin had managed to take from the Ranger, it could be said that he and his partner would be dead meat by that moment. Not even an two century old Eoclu would match against the Ranger with a Big Iron. - "Matters not. Who's you with? The cybercreep?" - He made sure to tilt his crimsom glare to where Arthur had possibly crash landed. - "The soldiers? Lost bounty hunters? Came to hunt me? Who? Speak up."
Arthur soon sat up on the pile of junk, all systems relatively fine, the auto repair systems were fixing very small problems. He interested by the sorts entertaining performance from a quite familiar voice. Once he looked over he saw the rather small group and the masked man pointing his gun at Ketin and Nirix. In the Emperors head, he saw that maybe only a matter of time till he shoots one of them. He stuck his into the junk and got a piece of scrap metal in hand. With shields and weapons charged, he yelled "Oi! Bucket Head! Get away from them!" and he threw a a size able piece of junk at the Mad Ranger.
Out of all the things that could've happened, Nirix never expected this. Ketin was...idolizing him?
Watching the one know as "The Mad Ranger" with a scrutinizing gaze, the Eoclu listened to their conversation with varying interest. Did Ketin really know this man? Or was he up to some kind of clever trick? Even through the Ranger seemed to be suffering from damage via the pervious detonation, he still stood tall and firm from his distance to them. Nirix also didn't fail to notice that despite Ketin idolizing the man, his gun was still very much in his hand. The urge to draw her own was slowly growing...
"He is with no one but me, under my protection" Nirix made sure to announce, lavender eyes trying to pierce through the crimson gaze of the Ranger's mask. She wasn't sure how this was going to play out but Nirix would try to do her best in not failing her duty. She was going to be the protector.
"Is there something you necessarily need? A message?" She paused, briefly making eye contact with Ketin. He looked nervous, like he was worried that whatever he was doing wouldn't work.
So far, so good.
Watching the one know as "The Mad Ranger" with a scrutinizing gaze, the Eoclu listened to their conversation with varying interest. Did Ketin really know this man? Or was he up to some kind of clever trick? Even through the Ranger seemed to be suffering from damage via the pervious detonation, he still stood tall and firm from his distance to them. Nirix also didn't fail to notice that despite Ketin idolizing the man, his gun was still very much in his hand. The urge to draw her own was slowly growing...
"He is with no one but me, under my protection" Nirix made sure to announce, lavender eyes trying to pierce through the crimson gaze of the Ranger's mask. She wasn't sure how this was going to play out but Nirix would try to do her best in not failing her duty. She was going to be the protector.
"Is there something you necessarily need? A message?" She paused, briefly making eye contact with Ketin. He looked nervous, like he was worried that whatever he was doing wouldn't work.
So far, so good.
Christofer was frozen in fear because of the stranger. At first he had thought that the surpricing sudden door opening would have just been a nurse or a doctor, but he was wrong. The stranger looked so out of place, he spread around such feeling and attitude that it caused Christofer to shake and slowly back away when his body realized it could move again. If it wouldn't be for the intimidating appearance and pressuring glare of the man, Christofer would have been feeling overly guilty due to Kallenger's arm being in pain again.
The man at the door surely differed from the other person Christofer knew that went by the name Perry. The one he knew would have smiled by now, probably greeted them with a casual handshake or anything similar to that. It was a shame... Still, the person appeared to be of a high rank, just like the Perry Christofer did - most likely wasn't due to the name though.
The boy feared the glare he got upon himself, backing away more and hiding behind the chair Kallenger had been sitting on just moments ago. He would curl, unsure on what the man ment by his kind, the boy would have assumed for it to somehow refer to the fact he was German, but the strange uniform choice of the man was leading him to another direction. Other guess would have been him not being a blonde for some dumb reason, but the man seemed to at least somewhat tolerate Kallenger who sure enough wasn't a blonde. What was it with him then?
Toffi covered his ears when Royanna started threatening the man. He didn't know what else he was supposed to do. He was of no help in thee situation and the silence that followed scared him even more. Judging by the expression of the man, he was not happy. Lucky for them, the man left, but Christofer could still not feel relieved. He was feeling that Kallenger would have now gotten in trouble because of him...
"... Royanna..." The boy slowly lifted his head from the floor, removing his hands from over his ears and spoke weakly. "... Is there something wrong with me...?"
The man at the door surely differed from the other person Christofer knew that went by the name Perry. The one he knew would have smiled by now, probably greeted them with a casual handshake or anything similar to that. It was a shame... Still, the person appeared to be of a high rank, just like the Perry Christofer did - most likely wasn't due to the name though.
The boy feared the glare he got upon himself, backing away more and hiding behind the chair Kallenger had been sitting on just moments ago. He would curl, unsure on what the man ment by his kind, the boy would have assumed for it to somehow refer to the fact he was German, but the strange uniform choice of the man was leading him to another direction. Other guess would have been him not being a blonde for some dumb reason, but the man seemed to at least somewhat tolerate Kallenger who sure enough wasn't a blonde. What was it with him then?
Toffi covered his ears when Royanna started threatening the man. He didn't know what else he was supposed to do. He was of no help in thee situation and the silence that followed scared him even more. Judging by the expression of the man, he was not happy. Lucky for them, the man left, but Christofer could still not feel relieved. He was feeling that Kallenger would have now gotten in trouble because of him...
"... Royanna..." The boy slowly lifted his head from the floor, removing his hands from over his ears and spoke weakly. "... Is there something wrong with me...?"
The feeling aboard the little Bullet was jovial. Though A.P. and wife had regained their state of mild emotion, they smiled in triumph nonetheless. Harkahn, Volo and Rivierre were positively whooping in celebration. There was definitely going to be some alcohol consumption when they got back - at some point, anyway.
It was a twenty minute ride back to the point at which they had entered realspace - the point at which they would re-enter Notspace and once again board the great Stella Viventium. For the first ten minutes of the journey the robot would go ignored - and even then, it was A.P. alone who replied when the thing did finally speak. He didn't blame them for being elated after that feat, moving in closer to keep his voice more easily heard over the continuing exclamations.
"We're going to my homeship, the Stella Viventium. There you'll have full access to all our facilities and resources so long as you intend to help us with our mission. That mission is finding Earth - the Earth that apparently you and your robotic comrades had some hand in burning...would you care to elaborate on this? Also, waiting for you there is the only other surviving bot from your ship, CD-40B, goes by 'Bravo'. He keeps talking about an 'Angel Moon', and we think that finding that will be the first step in returning to Sol. You...do intend to assist us, correct? I should mention that you would most likely not have made it out of that heap if not for us so you are in at least some small degree of debt."
He'd suddenly a gret anxiety that something might go wrong again - it hit him like a space train out of nowhere - he didn't want to go mentioning debts but given the uncertainty of...everything, it seemed necessary. These mechanical men were unpredictable, to say the least. And now this one was talking about burning the very place they were trying to go back to?
There was no indication that they had passed into notspace save for the subtle disappearance of the stars from the tiny windows lining the bullet's walls. There it was again, The Stella, looming over them like some great, colossal structure. They landed with haste through the auxiliary door which led directly to the maintenance hall, where they had left Bravo. The bullet came to a lazy halt and lowered itself to the floor - or, hovering two feet over the floor - and the side-hatch door swung up to allow everyone to disembark.
They had landed right next to where Bravo had been left. Rivierre made herself scarce, Harkahn and Volo immediately made with starting to unload all the various bits and chunks and heaps and hunks of salvage they had collected from the downed vessel, distributing them evenly about the various tables, desks adn workspaces around the huge, open mechanics bay. Aelyn, being unable to touch any of it, merely stood with hands in pockets nearby.
"Anything you need I'll see to it that we get to you. Once you and Bravo are back in full working capacity, I'd like to speak with the two of you on how to proceed from here. Understood?"
Aelyn couldn't help but be just a little bit paranoid - not that he would really show it.
It was a long while Royanna stood there, just gritting her teeth, staring at the door and smoldering. "Space-be-damned bastard, stuck up piece of..." she muttered to herself, mostly inaudible.
When Christofer said her name, it visibly startled her - yet not because he had broken the silence, which she was expecting to happen anyway. What surprised her was the use of her first name - sure, she had introduced herself as such earlier, but she couldn't remember the last time someone actually addressed her by that name.
No, when she thought about it, she could remember. It had been years ago, when she was perhaps eighteen - back then she had insisted on being called 'Roy'. Being the first female DEU Captain had...affected her slightly. She had yet to fully grow out of it.
Roya turned sharply, and with a voice to match replied in haste and determination "No. There's nothing wrong with you."
It came out sounding more harsh than she had intended it, and her voice deliberately softened thereafter. "Nothing wrong with what you are. It's just..."
Here was an interesting dilemma of the brain - it occurred to her once again that she had hardly questioned the kid's transformation. This time, however, was the added revelation that maybe the reason she did not question it was because it had been true the whole time?
The events which transpired on Earth IV were something of a fog. She remembered poking some kid in the chest and yelling at him when she first landed, she remembered meeting Christofer as a half-breed in the park - but he had surely changed since then, right? Maybe? Maybe not.
Maybe he was suffering from some kind of amnesia and she was residually, indirectly affected psychologically? That seemed to make the most sense. Surely she was the one who was remembering wrong, and he simply had develped some affliction in which his identity had been threatened within his mind.
She had been avoiding the thought for some time now, but it seemed it was time to face things and get it out of the way.
Voice softer now, she turned, curled a finger at him to beckon him closer. "Come'ere." She said, then moved into the opposite corner of the room. There was a sink and small section of counter there, as well as cabinets overhead - the usual sort of things one might expect in a hospital room. There was a mirror behind the sink upon the wall - but since it was built into a nook in the wall one would have to be standing directly in front of it to see it or their reflection at all.
She was winging it, mostly - who knew? Maybe she'd do this and he'd be totally confused at what she was talking about? Maybe she was totally overthinking or overreacting? Or maybe he'd lose it?
Nearing the nook, Royanna moved to stand behind him and put a hand reassuringly on his shoulder as the two of them looked into the mirror - the overhead light allowing for a good look, having been turned on when the unpleasant Captain Perry had entered the room moments prior.
If Christofer began to freak out, she would - with some difficulty and an impressive resolve to this new concept of physical contact, move the hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, where fingers would intermingle with hair and the effect of its' presence would be significantly heightened.
Roya Kallenger certainly was making progress in becoming more human. Ironically, through the process of this boy becoming less human.
The Ranger might as well have shot him through the head, with that thought - it hit 'Casey' like a rock, CL's immediate regret of being forced not to kill him on the spot. He had been hoping that by some chance this 'Mad Ranger' wouldn't be interested in an astronomically large bounty, given that everyone around seemed to be more focused on things like world domination than monetary gain.
The kid tensed up visibly, if subtly.
"Oh, I've got my ways~" he said noncommittally, though with the inflection of anxiety much more clearly heard in his voice than seen in his stance. He did manage to calm a tad when the subject moved on, even if it hadn't really changed.
"Who, Arthur?" he said, standing on his toes to glance over in the same direction, and using a name that he had no reason whatsoever to know. "Ah, he's not so bad. He's just tryna' help everyone at the same time and havin' kinda' hard time with it is all." He winced as a chunk of scrap went clattering to the ground not far off.
That said, he hopped a little so as to be better seen by Emperor Arthur over the rubble from the distance. "Hey! Arthur! The Ranger's a friend of mine! I think we've got a whole big misunderstanding here!"
With that out, he stopped hopping and waving, looking back to the Ranger. "I should clarfiy - I'm not with the robot, I just know him's all. Only one I'm with is Nirix here." he jabbed a thumb at her. "I's just doin' what I's usually doin', believe it or not. Sittin' around eatin' churros when all kinds of Hell broke loose...I was hopin'a get offworld on that shuttle but I guess the Cap'n didn't like us so much. He...seems like kind of a jerk, huh?"
The key to being an excellent liar was not only to convince onself of their own lie before spreading it to others, but also to include some truth within the lie - that always made them easier to believe - easier to take as truth with no reason to fabricate, no idea that they might be lying at all. He'd three centuries of practice lying, it was just about his greatest skill.
Sure, he vehemently hated himself for it, but whatever.
It was a twenty minute ride back to the point at which they had entered realspace - the point at which they would re-enter Notspace and once again board the great Stella Viventium. For the first ten minutes of the journey the robot would go ignored - and even then, it was A.P. alone who replied when the thing did finally speak. He didn't blame them for being elated after that feat, moving in closer to keep his voice more easily heard over the continuing exclamations.
"We're going to my homeship, the Stella Viventium. There you'll have full access to all our facilities and resources so long as you intend to help us with our mission. That mission is finding Earth - the Earth that apparently you and your robotic comrades had some hand in burning...would you care to elaborate on this? Also, waiting for you there is the only other surviving bot from your ship, CD-40B, goes by 'Bravo'. He keeps talking about an 'Angel Moon', and we think that finding that will be the first step in returning to Sol. You...do intend to assist us, correct? I should mention that you would most likely not have made it out of that heap if not for us so you are in at least some small degree of debt."
He'd suddenly a gret anxiety that something might go wrong again - it hit him like a space train out of nowhere - he didn't want to go mentioning debts but given the uncertainty of...everything, it seemed necessary. These mechanical men were unpredictable, to say the least. And now this one was talking about burning the very place they were trying to go back to?
There was no indication that they had passed into notspace save for the subtle disappearance of the stars from the tiny windows lining the bullet's walls. There it was again, The Stella, looming over them like some great, colossal structure. They landed with haste through the auxiliary door which led directly to the maintenance hall, where they had left Bravo. The bullet came to a lazy halt and lowered itself to the floor - or, hovering two feet over the floor - and the side-hatch door swung up to allow everyone to disembark.
They had landed right next to where Bravo had been left. Rivierre made herself scarce, Harkahn and Volo immediately made with starting to unload all the various bits and chunks and heaps and hunks of salvage they had collected from the downed vessel, distributing them evenly about the various tables, desks adn workspaces around the huge, open mechanics bay. Aelyn, being unable to touch any of it, merely stood with hands in pockets nearby.
"Anything you need I'll see to it that we get to you. Once you and Bravo are back in full working capacity, I'd like to speak with the two of you on how to proceed from here. Understood?"
Aelyn couldn't help but be just a little bit paranoid - not that he would really show it.
It was a long while Royanna stood there, just gritting her teeth, staring at the door and smoldering. "Space-be-damned bastard, stuck up piece of..." she muttered to herself, mostly inaudible.
When Christofer said her name, it visibly startled her - yet not because he had broken the silence, which she was expecting to happen anyway. What surprised her was the use of her first name - sure, she had introduced herself as such earlier, but she couldn't remember the last time someone actually addressed her by that name.
No, when she thought about it, she could remember. It had been years ago, when she was perhaps eighteen - back then she had insisted on being called 'Roy'. Being the first female DEU Captain had...affected her slightly. She had yet to fully grow out of it.
Roya turned sharply, and with a voice to match replied in haste and determination "No. There's nothing wrong with you."
It came out sounding more harsh than she had intended it, and her voice deliberately softened thereafter. "Nothing wrong with what you are. It's just..."
Here was an interesting dilemma of the brain - it occurred to her once again that she had hardly questioned the kid's transformation. This time, however, was the added revelation that maybe the reason she did not question it was because it had been true the whole time?
The events which transpired on Earth IV were something of a fog. She remembered poking some kid in the chest and yelling at him when she first landed, she remembered meeting Christofer as a half-breed in the park - but he had surely changed since then, right? Maybe? Maybe not.
Maybe he was suffering from some kind of amnesia and she was residually, indirectly affected psychologically? That seemed to make the most sense. Surely she was the one who was remembering wrong, and he simply had develped some affliction in which his identity had been threatened within his mind.
She had been avoiding the thought for some time now, but it seemed it was time to face things and get it out of the way.
Voice softer now, she turned, curled a finger at him to beckon him closer. "Come'ere." She said, then moved into the opposite corner of the room. There was a sink and small section of counter there, as well as cabinets overhead - the usual sort of things one might expect in a hospital room. There was a mirror behind the sink upon the wall - but since it was built into a nook in the wall one would have to be standing directly in front of it to see it or their reflection at all.
She was winging it, mostly - who knew? Maybe she'd do this and he'd be totally confused at what she was talking about? Maybe she was totally overthinking or overreacting? Or maybe he'd lose it?
Nearing the nook, Royanna moved to stand behind him and put a hand reassuringly on his shoulder as the two of them looked into the mirror - the overhead light allowing for a good look, having been turned on when the unpleasant Captain Perry had entered the room moments prior.
If Christofer began to freak out, she would - with some difficulty and an impressive resolve to this new concept of physical contact, move the hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, where fingers would intermingle with hair and the effect of its' presence would be significantly heightened.
Roya Kallenger certainly was making progress in becoming more human. Ironically, through the process of this boy becoming less human.
The Ranger might as well have shot him through the head, with that thought - it hit 'Casey' like a rock, CL's immediate regret of being forced not to kill him on the spot. He had been hoping that by some chance this 'Mad Ranger' wouldn't be interested in an astronomically large bounty, given that everyone around seemed to be more focused on things like world domination than monetary gain.
The kid tensed up visibly, if subtly.
"Oh, I've got my ways~" he said noncommittally, though with the inflection of anxiety much more clearly heard in his voice than seen in his stance. He did manage to calm a tad when the subject moved on, even if it hadn't really changed.
"Who, Arthur?" he said, standing on his toes to glance over in the same direction, and using a name that he had no reason whatsoever to know. "Ah, he's not so bad. He's just tryna' help everyone at the same time and havin' kinda' hard time with it is all." He winced as a chunk of scrap went clattering to the ground not far off.
That said, he hopped a little so as to be better seen by Emperor Arthur over the rubble from the distance. "Hey! Arthur! The Ranger's a friend of mine! I think we've got a whole big misunderstanding here!"
With that out, he stopped hopping and waving, looking back to the Ranger. "I should clarfiy - I'm not with the robot, I just know him's all. Only one I'm with is Nirix here." he jabbed a thumb at her. "I's just doin' what I's usually doin', believe it or not. Sittin' around eatin' churros when all kinds of Hell broke loose...I was hopin'a get offworld on that shuttle but I guess the Cap'n didn't like us so much. He...seems like kind of a jerk, huh?"
The key to being an excellent liar was not only to convince onself of their own lie before spreading it to others, but also to include some truth within the lie - that always made them easier to believe - easier to take as truth with no reason to fabricate, no idea that they might be lying at all. He'd three centuries of practice lying, it was just about his greatest skill.
Sure, he vehemently hated himself for it, but whatever.
Before Arthur could response to Ketin's greeting, his attention was distracted by the incoming ATT's that finally started to arrive after all this time, investigating on what happen to this area that has caused such a stir on so many measuring and detecting devices. What was even more interesting, the white hair Dimensional Lord appeared behind CL, obviously done with his meeting. He got close to him and said "Vell, vell, vell, aren't you so badly damaged" it was obvious he was talking to CL and he then added "Just to let you know, Mad Ranger, I recommend putting away your Big Iron, unless you vant a large dosage of antimatter radiation into your body or get blown to pieces by 60cal auto-cannon" his claw was right next to the Ranger, the blue bulb on his palm glowing, ready to grab him if hostile actions are taken. He then reverted his attention to Ketin and gave him a smile and said "If you vanted to get off zis planet so badly all you had to do vas ask" he face turned from a smile to a smiling of curiosity like Kampfer just got some interesting information and said "By ze vay, Ketin, does ze name Doctor Sarah Glades ring any bells, she sorta looks like me, short white haired, slightly shorter zan me, she looks 35 but is really in her 40s, rather large chest, wears small spectacles?" Of course Kampfer knew that he didn't have to give him a description, all he had to do was look into his head see the Doctor himself, but one could say that the mind reading capabilities is quite a rare in someone so his description is basically force of habit. As he waited for Ketin's reply, he went back to Cl and said "You know I could repair your damage equipment and from my scanners I can see you are running dangerously low on Hydrogen fuel cells" he grinned and said "Do know how unstable and volatile zose zings can be, zey can blow up at anytime, I can give you Zentofium, same energy output as your Hydrogen but less volatile zough" he bantered at him like a mother would do to her son, scolding him like he did something wrong, of course minus the wag of a finger since his claw was right next to the Ranger's side.
Arthur came running over and said "My Lord it's a pleasure to see you once more" he looked up at him like he was his idol. Kampfer grinned at Arthur and said "I see you had fun vith everyone" he petted his head like father would to his child, being proud of him. Arthur gave out a friendly chuckle towards Kampfer, still on edge on what the Ranger will do.
Arthur came running over and said "My Lord it's a pleasure to see you once more" he looked up at him like he was his idol. Kampfer grinned at Arthur and said "I see you had fun vith everyone" he petted his head like father would to his child, being proud of him. Arthur gave out a friendly chuckle towards Kampfer, still on edge on what the Ranger will do.
It could be said that the only reason that the Ranger hadn't lowered his Lucian Defender were directly related to Nirix's threatening stance. As if she was defying the so-called Mad Ranger's rumors of shooting on sight. In fact, they were both lucky of being alive at that moment. Slowly, CL were buying into Ketin's cattle waste, the boy didn't quite had that off-putting atmosphere of a liar, surprisingly. However, that soon turned when he started to speak slightly well of Arthur. "... What?" - A slight mutter came out from CL's mask as Arthur started approaching, throwing a big chunk of scrap that luckily didn't manage to hit The Ranger or the duo. Then everything started to make sense. Soon, that feeling steadily lumbered upwards CL's spine. The eye-widening, dreaded feeling of being caught right unto a well thought trap.
The realization made true with the sudden appearance of a voice right behind CL, which was already frozen in place yet with his Revolver in hands, after all, the least thing he wanted was to get shot after 'his' team had already escaped. If only 'his' fleet weren't so far into the solar system... "60 cal. automatic, antimatter radiation. Hell, that's one big *** arsenal 'ya got there, isn't it too much to take ONE man down?" - Soon, one of CL's worst unspoken about traits were revealed. "Ah, I see, overcompensating for something, ey, boy? Heh, heh, heh." - His inability to surrender into captivity. "Oh, volatile?" - He didn't submit, The Ranger kept mocking every aspect that the very own Dimensional Lord Kampfer had thrown to make the marauder look outdated, underpowered. Under his will. "You are nauseating, you surely don't look like The Highest Bidder 'round. Hydrogen's plenty, 'yo, infinite as the is water. Automatic guarantee that's millions time more cost-efficient that half-***** phlebotinium or whateverium you have on your ~miightyy~ supply. 'Cya, NERD."
The following were as sudden as Kampfer came. With the old deafening blast, followed by the blinding flash, The Ranger darted himself airborne using his hydrogen jet drive, making sure to pull the trigger of his Revolver against anything below. Arthur, Kampfer, Nirix, Ketin, no one would be spared from the bulletstorm that would fall upon them. After a dozen of hearty blasts, the Ranger redirected himself, still mid-flight, and jettisoned his whole frame towards the thick jungle into the direction of Kartupelis. Landing roughly on the ground, covered by the vegetation, the Ranger didn't had much to do but to run as much as he could towards the nearby city. While he still managed to keep his 'smugness' on Kampfer's presence, the Masked Man in fact, were sure to add that mess to his "Close Calls With Death" list. But it was enigmatic how the fox-ears boy knew his codename: "CL".
High above into Earth IV's orbit, space itself appeared to be torn apart by the multiple, one-way wormhole-like anomalies that sprouted over. Of the very unknown from it's innards, the wormholes spouted countless small spacecrafts, all a lookalike of each other: Over thirty gunblack, long machines appeared over there, their frame slightly resembling of a short interplanetary missile, supported by the powerful, multi-directional thruster it had equipped. Save for the one ominous red-eye each of these had equipped, these drones apparently hadn't any form of defense, nor it irradiated shields of any sort. The crew of The Bullet could only take a glimpse on the oncoming swarm before it finally entered Not-Space... After a few moments inactive, the mysterious drones charged towards multiple directions towards the orbit of Earth IV. It's 'eyes' frantically scanning every corner of it's surface, every city. Any defense the stationed troops managed to have on the planet. From where these machines had come from it was yet unknown.
The realization made true with the sudden appearance of a voice right behind CL, which was already frozen in place yet with his Revolver in hands, after all, the least thing he wanted was to get shot after 'his' team had already escaped. If only 'his' fleet weren't so far into the solar system... "60 cal. automatic, antimatter radiation. Hell, that's one big *** arsenal 'ya got there, isn't it too much to take ONE man down?" - Soon, one of CL's worst unspoken about traits were revealed. "Ah, I see, overcompensating for something, ey, boy? Heh, heh, heh." - His inability to surrender into captivity. "Oh, volatile?" - He didn't submit, The Ranger kept mocking every aspect that the very own Dimensional Lord Kampfer had thrown to make the marauder look outdated, underpowered. Under his will. "You are nauseating, you surely don't look like The Highest Bidder 'round. Hydrogen's plenty, 'yo, infinite as the is water. Automatic guarantee that's millions time more cost-efficient that half-***** phlebotinium or whateverium you have on your ~miightyy~ supply. 'Cya, NERD."
The following were as sudden as Kampfer came. With the old deafening blast, followed by the blinding flash, The Ranger darted himself airborne using his hydrogen jet drive, making sure to pull the trigger of his Revolver against anything below. Arthur, Kampfer, Nirix, Ketin, no one would be spared from the bulletstorm that would fall upon them. After a dozen of hearty blasts, the Ranger redirected himself, still mid-flight, and jettisoned his whole frame towards the thick jungle into the direction of Kartupelis. Landing roughly on the ground, covered by the vegetation, the Ranger didn't had much to do but to run as much as he could towards the nearby city. While he still managed to keep his 'smugness' on Kampfer's presence, the Masked Man in fact, were sure to add that mess to his "Close Calls With Death" list. But it was enigmatic how the fox-ears boy knew his codename: "CL".
High above into Earth IV's orbit, space itself appeared to be torn apart by the multiple, one-way wormhole-like anomalies that sprouted over. Of the very unknown from it's innards, the wormholes spouted countless small spacecrafts, all a lookalike of each other: Over thirty gunblack, long machines appeared over there, their frame slightly resembling of a short interplanetary missile, supported by the powerful, multi-directional thruster it had equipped. Save for the one ominous red-eye each of these had equipped, these drones apparently hadn't any form of defense, nor it irradiated shields of any sort. The crew of The Bullet could only take a glimpse on the oncoming swarm before it finally entered Not-Space... After a few moments inactive, the mysterious drones charged towards multiple directions towards the orbit of Earth IV. It's 'eyes' frantically scanning every corner of it's surface, every city. Any defense the stationed troops managed to have on the planet. From where these machines had come from it was yet unknown.
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