Z
There was a horrible sound of earth shattering, scraping metal, and debris being launched into the air as Z's plummet ended. Her six mile long body lay flat on the ground, a massive crater surrounding her.
Had she crushed the impotent being? She couldn't tell. Her arms had not yet come back to her. What in the galaxy was their power?!
She had little time to think. B finally had her moment to strike. Her jagged, toothy hand struck at the connecting point of Z's torso and head and clamped down hard. Sparks flew into the air, lighting a stray amount of oil from the wrecked city on fire.
"GAH! Let go of me you fool!" Z yelled at the highest volume she could muster. "You're going to become cannon fodder for those humans if you don't join me! Dismantled by empires! DESTROYED BY INFERIOR WEAKLINGS!!!" She struggled against her sister's hold with great force, desperately trying to utilize her arms again. Green shots of light flickered from her arm sockets, but the hard light still would not form.
"Like you would have done anything different to me!" B screamed at her opponent. "All you care about is yourself! You were made to destroy the end of ages, and yet here you are, willing to throw galactic power out of balance for your own selfish desires!!" B tightened her grip, her maw hand emitting a high pitched drone as it seized up. Z's armor was giving her trouble, but slowly she could feel it giving way.
Z's face contorted with rage. She kicked and writhed, struggling and sparking. There was a cracking noise and then a deafening bang. Z screeched as her sister finally punctured her defensive plating.
"LET.
GO.
OF.
ME!!!" "
The familiar blue glow of her hard-light hands shot out from their emitters, finally freed from the dimensional lords power. They clamped onto B's face, jostling her from her defensive position. The maw hand let go in shock, and Z quickly got to her feet, keeping a death hold on her sister.
"Z! Your path will only lead to your demise!! YOU HEAR ME, SISTER?!"
"YOU'RE NO SISTER OF MINE, YOU RUSTING HUNK OF SCRAP! I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN RID OF YOU AGES AGO!"
"JUST LIKE YOU GOT RID OF G?! JUST LIKE YOU GOT RID OF N?! JUST LIKE YOU GOT RID OF YOUR MAKERS?!"
There was a moment of silence. Z didn't move. B didn't move. Not even a gust of wind blew between them.
In the rubble and ruin of the city, there was a deafening crack.
A hard light sword had pierced through the eye of B.
Robotic murder on a spring afternoon.
Her body slumped, arms hanging lifeless.
The scent of flowers and crude oil blew through the air as a wormhole opened.
In flew debris and a body.
Away flew a mechanical murderer as it closed.
There was a horrible sound of earth shattering, scraping metal, and debris being launched into the air as Z's plummet ended. Her six mile long body lay flat on the ground, a massive crater surrounding her.
Had she crushed the impotent being? She couldn't tell. Her arms had not yet come back to her. What in the galaxy was their power?!
She had little time to think. B finally had her moment to strike. Her jagged, toothy hand struck at the connecting point of Z's torso and head and clamped down hard. Sparks flew into the air, lighting a stray amount of oil from the wrecked city on fire.
"GAH! Let go of me you fool!" Z yelled at the highest volume she could muster. "You're going to become cannon fodder for those humans if you don't join me! Dismantled by empires! DESTROYED BY INFERIOR WEAKLINGS!!!" She struggled against her sister's hold with great force, desperately trying to utilize her arms again. Green shots of light flickered from her arm sockets, but the hard light still would not form.
"Like you would have done anything different to me!" B screamed at her opponent. "All you care about is yourself! You were made to destroy the end of ages, and yet here you are, willing to throw galactic power out of balance for your own selfish desires!!" B tightened her grip, her maw hand emitting a high pitched drone as it seized up. Z's armor was giving her trouble, but slowly she could feel it giving way.
Z's face contorted with rage. She kicked and writhed, struggling and sparking. There was a cracking noise and then a deafening bang. Z screeched as her sister finally punctured her defensive plating.
"LET.
GO.
OF.
ME!!!" "
The familiar blue glow of her hard-light hands shot out from their emitters, finally freed from the dimensional lords power. They clamped onto B's face, jostling her from her defensive position. The maw hand let go in shock, and Z quickly got to her feet, keeping a death hold on her sister.
"Z! Your path will only lead to your demise!! YOU HEAR ME, SISTER?!"
"YOU'RE NO SISTER OF MINE, YOU RUSTING HUNK OF SCRAP! I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN RID OF YOU AGES AGO!"
"JUST LIKE YOU GOT RID OF G?! JUST LIKE YOU GOT RID OF N?! JUST LIKE YOU GOT RID OF YOUR MAKERS?!"
There was a moment of silence. Z didn't move. B didn't move. Not even a gust of wind blew between them.
In the rubble and ruin of the city, there was a deafening crack.
A hard light sword had pierced through the eye of B.
Robotic murder on a spring afternoon.
Her body slumped, arms hanging lifeless.
The scent of flowers and crude oil blew through the air as a wormhole opened.
In flew debris and a body.
Away flew a mechanical murderer as it closed.
The yelp of her friend behind her made her right herself quickly. Her chest heaved, and she pushed down the panic.
“Nothing! Nothing..” She yelled back, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. The message from Aelyn went completely unnoticed as she slowed her breathing, and calmed her heart. It felt like she'd just run a marathon. Of course, Rya didn't remember what a 'marathon' was, she just knew that people said that when they were breathing heavily.
“Nobody should ever wake up after that,” she mumbled softly, replaying it over and over in her head. She rolled her shoulders, and then sighed slowly as her head began to ache. She leaned back, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes, as if trying to push the pain out of her temples. “Nobody should ever… Nobody should ever wake up from that kind of... that kind of nightmare.” The final word was spoken with a thick, icy disdain, drawn out through a breathy, hateful sigh. She knew she sounded like something out of an old movie, but she didn't exactly find the energy, or the importance in such things, to care anymore.
She sank down against the glass as she recovered. Exhaustion flooded her limbs, letting her slump forward, not even bothering to address how ridiculous she looked. After a moment, she pulled her face away from the glass, and wiped the condensation left from her breath. She didn’t look at Drakis, despite how much she wanted to.
Would it be different if she hadn’t attacked that guy? She wished she hadn’t, regret settling in her gut like sediment on the bottom of Earth’s vast oceans.
Oceans, she thought fondly. Images of vibrantly colored sealife and the taste of salt on the wind consumed her mind’s eye. Whether it was the BrainPal, or her own memories, she was unsure. And she didn’t bother to take the time to figure it out.
Staring into the infinite blackness of NotSpace -- the term still frightening with it's implications and impossibilities, -- she realized that, for the first time in a long, like impossibly-huge-made-up-number long time, she had no idea what she was going to do.
The sound was slight, just air expelling from the lungs in a guttural, instinctive nature, the sound someone might make after being told something that made sense, but they hadn't ever wondered about. Just a single, soft syllable. A tiny breath of resolve, a resolution made of a whisper. Just enough for her heart to calm, and her breathing to slow, grow softer, calmer.
"Huh."
And all was well in her mind again. After all, she was just a soldier.
“Nothing! Nothing..” She yelled back, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. The message from Aelyn went completely unnoticed as she slowed her breathing, and calmed her heart. It felt like she'd just run a marathon. Of course, Rya didn't remember what a 'marathon' was, she just knew that people said that when they were breathing heavily.
“Nobody should ever wake up after that,” she mumbled softly, replaying it over and over in her head. She rolled her shoulders, and then sighed slowly as her head began to ache. She leaned back, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes, as if trying to push the pain out of her temples. “Nobody should ever… Nobody should ever wake up from that kind of... that kind of nightmare.” The final word was spoken with a thick, icy disdain, drawn out through a breathy, hateful sigh. She knew she sounded like something out of an old movie, but she didn't exactly find the energy, or the importance in such things, to care anymore.
She sank down against the glass as she recovered. Exhaustion flooded her limbs, letting her slump forward, not even bothering to address how ridiculous she looked. After a moment, she pulled her face away from the glass, and wiped the condensation left from her breath. She didn’t look at Drakis, despite how much she wanted to.
Would it be different if she hadn’t attacked that guy? She wished she hadn’t, regret settling in her gut like sediment on the bottom of Earth’s vast oceans.
Oceans, she thought fondly. Images of vibrantly colored sealife and the taste of salt on the wind consumed her mind’s eye. Whether it was the BrainPal, or her own memories, she was unsure. And she didn’t bother to take the time to figure it out.
Staring into the infinite blackness of NotSpace -- the term still frightening with it's implications and impossibilities, -- she realized that, for the first time in a long, like impossibly-huge-made-up-number long time, she had no idea what she was going to do.
The sound was slight, just air expelling from the lungs in a guttural, instinctive nature, the sound someone might make after being told something that made sense, but they hadn't ever wondered about. Just a single, soft syllable. A tiny breath of resolve, a resolution made of a whisper. Just enough for her heart to calm, and her breathing to slow, grow softer, calmer.
"Huh."
And all was well in her mind again. After all, she was just a soldier.
Nasser Station, Daedalus high orbit
Within the market place of the space station, an area of the highest activity with people trading goods. Within this futuristic market place up against the windows that show the hustle and bustle of ships coming in and leaving was an old style gypsie caravan. Front of this old stall was shelves of candy easily for anyone to grab with a price of 1 credit for each piece of candy. Behind the shelves of candy was a rather tall lanky man in top hat with two feathers on it with an disturb look on his face as he smiles, showing off his sharp teeth.
“Come one, come all! The show is about to start!” he cries out as he tries to gather people around, but he was only able to gather around his usually customers of orphan children knowing exactly what the show is. “Welcome to Sir Montagne’s wonder emporium! And so the puppet show is about to start, so please relax and enjoy the show!” he declares as he ducks behind shelves and hand puppets began to show up.
To start he pulled out a female hand puppet and a puppet in the shape of an old candle stick.
“So after being kidnapped by the mysterious owner of mansion, the living house ware escort Bell to the dining room and Lumière the candle stick begins” says the obvious narrator “Ma 'chere Mademoiselle,
It is with deepest pride, and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight.
And now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair as the dining room proudly presents - your dinner!
Be our guest! Be our guest!
Put our service to the test
Tie your napkin 'round your neck cherie,
And we'll provide the rest
Soup du jour
Hot hors d'oeuvres
Why, we only live to serve
Try the grey stuff
It's delicious!
Don't believe me?
Ask the dishes!
They can sing they, can dance
After all, Miss, this is France
And a dinner here is never second best
Go on, unfold your menu
Take a glance and then you'll
Be our guest, Oui, our guest, Be our guest!” the candle stick goes as more and more puppets and objects begin to appear, from chairs to even plates and glasses as he continue to sing “Beef ragout
Cheese soufflé, Pie and pudding "en flambe"
We'll prepare and serve with flair!
A culinary cabaret
You're alone
And you're scared
But the banquet's all prepared
No one's gloomy or complaining
While the flatware's entertaining.
We tell jokes, I do tricks
With my fellow candlesticks
And it's all in perfect taste
That you can bet
Come on and lift your glass
You've won your own free pass to
Be our guest
LUMIERE
If you're stressed
It's fine dining we suggest
CHORUS
Be our guest! Be our guest! Be our guest!
LUMIERE
Life it so unnerving
For a servant who's not serving.
He's not whole without a soul to wait upon
Ahh those good old days when we were useful
Suddenly, those good old days are gone.
Ten years we've been rusting
Needing so much more than dusting
Needing exercise, a chance to use our skill
Most days we just lay around the castle
Flabby, fat, and lazy
You walked in and oopsie daisy” Soon Mrs. Pott comes into view a talk teapot. “MRSPOTTS.
It's a guest It's! a guest
Sakes alive well, I'll be blessed
Wine's been poured and thank the Lord
I've had the napkins freshly pressed
With dessert, she'll want tea
And my dear that's fine with me.
While the cups do their soft-shoeing
I'll be bubbling, I'll be brewing
I'll get warm, piping hot
Heaven's sakes! Is that a spot?
Clean it up!
We want the company impressed
CHORUS
We've got a lot to do!
MRS POTTS.
Is it one lump or two?
For you, our guest!
CHORUS
Be our guest
MRS POTTS.
Be our guest!
CHORUS
Be our guest
Be our guest
Be our guest
CHORUS
Be our guest! Be our guest!
Our command is your request
It's been years since we've had anybody here
And we're obsessed!
With your meal,
With your ease,
Yes indeed, we aim to please.
While the candlelight's still glowing
Let us help you,
We'll keep going
Course by course,
One by one.
'Til you shout "Enough, I'm done!"
Then we'll sing you off to sleep as you digest
Tonight you'll prop your feet up,
But for now, let's eat up
Be our guest!
Be our guest!
Be our guest!
Please, be our guest!” As all the dining room set dances and sings and impressive feat by one man. Once the song ended he appears behind the shelves and with a evil grin on his face he states “Well that’s all folks, come back next time for next scene from the classic of Beauty and the Beast!” as he looks at the children who seemed thoroughly entertained and as he step out of the caravan he was rushed by them to buy some kind and in which he conducted business with them so there teeth’s can rot.
Once the children left he hit his caravan and the shelves of candy disappeared to assortment of random things. “Come one! Come all! Come see what I have for sell! Some here may strike your fancy! If all else fails and need to make a trial, purchase these nice prism stones that glow in whichever color once thrown on the ground for only 100 credits!” he yells out like a crony sells man he is. Of course people usually pass him by because of his unusual appearance.
Within the market place of the space station, an area of the highest activity with people trading goods. Within this futuristic market place up against the windows that show the hustle and bustle of ships coming in and leaving was an old style gypsie caravan. Front of this old stall was shelves of candy easily for anyone to grab with a price of 1 credit for each piece of candy. Behind the shelves of candy was a rather tall lanky man in top hat with two feathers on it with an disturb look on his face as he smiles, showing off his sharp teeth.
“Come one, come all! The show is about to start!” he cries out as he tries to gather people around, but he was only able to gather around his usually customers of orphan children knowing exactly what the show is. “Welcome to Sir Montagne’s wonder emporium! And so the puppet show is about to start, so please relax and enjoy the show!” he declares as he ducks behind shelves and hand puppets began to show up.
To start he pulled out a female hand puppet and a puppet in the shape of an old candle stick.
“So after being kidnapped by the mysterious owner of mansion, the living house ware escort Bell to the dining room and Lumière the candle stick begins” says the obvious narrator “Ma 'chere Mademoiselle,
It is with deepest pride, and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight.
And now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair as the dining room proudly presents - your dinner!
Be our guest! Be our guest!
Put our service to the test
Tie your napkin 'round your neck cherie,
And we'll provide the rest
Soup du jour
Hot hors d'oeuvres
Why, we only live to serve
Try the grey stuff
It's delicious!
Don't believe me?
Ask the dishes!
They can sing they, can dance
After all, Miss, this is France
And a dinner here is never second best
Go on, unfold your menu
Take a glance and then you'll
Be our guest, Oui, our guest, Be our guest!” the candle stick goes as more and more puppets and objects begin to appear, from chairs to even plates and glasses as he continue to sing “Beef ragout
Cheese soufflé, Pie and pudding "en flambe"
We'll prepare and serve with flair!
A culinary cabaret
You're alone
And you're scared
But the banquet's all prepared
No one's gloomy or complaining
While the flatware's entertaining.
We tell jokes, I do tricks
With my fellow candlesticks
And it's all in perfect taste
That you can bet
Come on and lift your glass
You've won your own free pass to
Be our guest
LUMIERE
If you're stressed
It's fine dining we suggest
CHORUS
Be our guest! Be our guest! Be our guest!
LUMIERE
Life it so unnerving
For a servant who's not serving.
He's not whole without a soul to wait upon
Ahh those good old days when we were useful
Suddenly, those good old days are gone.
Ten years we've been rusting
Needing so much more than dusting
Needing exercise, a chance to use our skill
Most days we just lay around the castle
Flabby, fat, and lazy
You walked in and oopsie daisy” Soon Mrs. Pott comes into view a talk teapot. “MRSPOTTS.
It's a guest It's! a guest
Sakes alive well, I'll be blessed
Wine's been poured and thank the Lord
I've had the napkins freshly pressed
With dessert, she'll want tea
And my dear that's fine with me.
While the cups do their soft-shoeing
I'll be bubbling, I'll be brewing
I'll get warm, piping hot
Heaven's sakes! Is that a spot?
Clean it up!
We want the company impressed
CHORUS
We've got a lot to do!
MRS POTTS.
Is it one lump or two?
For you, our guest!
CHORUS
Be our guest
MRS POTTS.
Be our guest!
CHORUS
Be our guest
Be our guest
Be our guest
CHORUS
Be our guest! Be our guest!
Our command is your request
It's been years since we've had anybody here
And we're obsessed!
With your meal,
With your ease,
Yes indeed, we aim to please.
While the candlelight's still glowing
Let us help you,
We'll keep going
Course by course,
One by one.
'Til you shout "Enough, I'm done!"
Then we'll sing you off to sleep as you digest
Tonight you'll prop your feet up,
But for now, let's eat up
Be our guest!
Be our guest!
Be our guest!
Please, be our guest!” As all the dining room set dances and sings and impressive feat by one man. Once the song ended he appears behind the shelves and with a evil grin on his face he states “Well that’s all folks, come back next time for next scene from the classic of Beauty and the Beast!” as he looks at the children who seemed thoroughly entertained and as he step out of the caravan he was rushed by them to buy some kind and in which he conducted business with them so there teeth’s can rot.
Once the children left he hit his caravan and the shelves of candy disappeared to assortment of random things. “Come one! Come all! Come see what I have for sell! Some here may strike your fancy! If all else fails and need to make a trial, purchase these nice prism stones that glow in whichever color once thrown on the ground for only 100 credits!” he yells out like a crony sells man he is. Of course people usually pass him by because of his unusual appearance.
Arena soon came out of the rumble, sticking her hand out like a zombie coming out of the ground. As she pulls herself she see's Z and her dead sister zoom out into the worm hole that she created. She wondering what happened after the deafening silence between them. She slowly walked to where the murder of a sibling has happen, where Cain has slayed Abel. As she stand in where B was murdered, Arena calmly looks around and see's the devastation and can see the incoming Imperial troops who responded way too late, but to give them credit this fight didn't last very long.
For Arena, this defeat really hit her pride and the more she stood there, the more flames began to become brighter and brighter on her armor before she lets out a loud war cry. "HOW DARE THAT RUST BUCKET PROCLAIM IT AS THE PERSONIFICATION OF THE APOCALYPSE! I WILL TEACH THAT DAMN THING A LESSON!!!"
Arena zooms towards the incoming Imperial forces, giving out another yell. "Best start small" she told herself as she was already in a fit of rage as she dashed towards the incoming force. She threw her sword towards an armored personal carrier and teleport towards it and ripped the front off and killed the driver and co driver as she makes her way into it killing everyone inside. APC explodes as Arena dashes p ward towards incoming air support and ripping there pilots out and hoping from one aircraft to another destroying them one by one, having them fall down from the sky only hunks of metal left. Seeing this destruction by one person, scared the rest of the small force as they began to retreat. "NONE LEAVES!!" she yells out as hacks and teleports to each solider killing them, some beg for there life, but she wasn't having it, not after what she's been through. Soon in only matter of minutes the small force to investigate the destruction by Z was wiped by one woman...The Lord of Chaos and Destruction has come for vengeance.
The one pulling stings can only laugh from her throne in her castle , seeing how everything is going.....and how everything is falling into place....
For Arena, this defeat really hit her pride and the more she stood there, the more flames began to become brighter and brighter on her armor before she lets out a loud war cry. "HOW DARE THAT RUST BUCKET PROCLAIM IT AS THE PERSONIFICATION OF THE APOCALYPSE! I WILL TEACH THAT DAMN THING A LESSON!!!"
Arena zooms towards the incoming Imperial forces, giving out another yell. "Best start small" she told herself as she was already in a fit of rage as she dashed towards the incoming force. She threw her sword towards an armored personal carrier and teleport towards it and ripped the front off and killed the driver and co driver as she makes her way into it killing everyone inside. APC explodes as Arena dashes p ward towards incoming air support and ripping there pilots out and hoping from one aircraft to another destroying them one by one, having them fall down from the sky only hunks of metal left. Seeing this destruction by one person, scared the rest of the small force as they began to retreat. "NONE LEAVES!!" she yells out as hacks and teleports to each solider killing them, some beg for there life, but she wasn't having it, not after what she's been through. Soon in only matter of minutes the small force to investigate the destruction by Z was wiped by one woman...The Lord of Chaos and Destruction has come for vengeance.
The one pulling stings can only laugh from her throne in her castle , seeing how everything is going.....and how everything is falling into place....
Christofer would be finding that with adrenaline he could manage a plethora of things. Lifting Royanna would not have been easy at all in normal conditions. And now they even managed to make a hole in the wall? That was quite the deed for the most useless member of the group so far. Though with the kicks he had to endure it didn't make him feel proud of his achievements, at all. The pain only increased his urge to leave the space though. He did not fancy himself any of that pain to his back, sides or spine, but the adrenaline that ran through him made him able to cope with it - for now.
What was beyond the wall didn't matter to him much, other than he knew that there was somewhere left for them to go now. It wasn't a bottomless pit, and there certainly was a door that could easily be opened and all that. Canid would place the blade away, back to where he had gotten it. Carefully. But right after that it was back to the haste of escaping. No doors could hold him back. They were going to get out of there.
Doors couldn't hold him back, no, but a couple of explosions and the whole floor and everything around him shaking like they'd have been caught in one of those high richter earthquakes. The weight he was carrying got to him, causing for him to stumble and with a few unfortunate turns he also flew back. Grip of Kallenger was far gone at this point, the woman could freely go and do whatever she wanted. When she got up that is. She would be fine.
Christofer wouldn't be seeking to carry her for a bit, having hit himself against few things while being sent flying back to the other direction. Kallenger got the corridor, and the canid got the... Well... If one of those sinks still had water running in their valves, pipes, something. If they were still up and working, even if having gotten old during all those years of nothingness, the canid would be wet like a reluctant dog being pushed into the bath. But if there was indeed water, at least it would be cleaning off the red that had started soaking his hair and the back of his head.
Hitting yourself on things with an impact caused damage to your head following was no fun.
The lights flickering were not fun either, but those he could barely even notice, his own vision temporarily so blurry that he had gone and only seen black for a good second or 10, maybe 30. The alarms forced him up though, couldn't keep laying on the floor now. No time to think how much only seeing red or nothing creeped him out.
At this point, Royanna would be better off walking and running on her own two feet. Canid wasn't in as good of a state anymore. His movement would not be as straight anymore, dipping a little to one side and then the other. The pain at the back of his head feeling like someone had pushed something through him. This shouldn't have been the case, but while proceeding with the escape attempt the canid would be hiding a whimper under every other breath of his.
But he was reluctant to slow the others down, so he kept on moving even if he was pained and his body wanted to collapse and hide in a corner rather than run around hallways. Vision was somewhat blurry. The fact that he could only hear high-pitched sounds and with his blurry vision he could only barely be able to tell things from the black and the occasionally flashing red lights. Was he dying? He had never experienced that, he thought, but he wasn't ready to find out if this was the case or if this was what it was like.
Past the sirens, he could only barely hear Kallenger muttering something to herself as they kept running away. The order to halt fire was also only heard with some luck. But he was aware that someone was not too far behind them, someone... possibly hostile... His head couldn't think of making allies at this point, all it did was think of them escaping or in the very least, find some miracle shelter.
But he did notice the tone of Kallenger's voice. It sounded troubled. There was something she knew and he didn't. Nothing new there, but it still made his ears fall back as he tried to make his mind about what the woman was worried of. Or was she worried? Now she was, in his head.
"Listen..." He'd not be talking very loudly, and there was a chance no-one even heard him and his slightly pained voice over the sirens. "Go find a way out or a shelter. You stay hidden, stay quiet, and wait for when it's better time to come find me. Ja?" He was planning something. "You will find me... And if something happened you will at least gather me up and eat me to survive for longer, ok?"
Leave the decision making to the other hazy headed one? Sounds like a brilliant idea. An absolutely brilliant idea.
No use on telling him to retreat from his plans though, it was very likely no Cox, Roy nor Iri-L would have heard his almost whisper like voice from the midst of the sirens. They would keep running as if the canid was still with them. He had fallen a little back with his injuries and dizziness already afterall.
Boy had already turned to run the other way. With a high possibility there was someone following the group. Who knows how far or how close they were, but he'd find the closest one and leap towards them. Leap even if he had no actual weapons or such on him just fangs baren and everything. He wouldn't know who he was attacking to defend the rest, but surely there was at least some spot for him to latch up onto and attempt on at least slowing down the thread that was after them.
What was beyond the wall didn't matter to him much, other than he knew that there was somewhere left for them to go now. It wasn't a bottomless pit, and there certainly was a door that could easily be opened and all that. Canid would place the blade away, back to where he had gotten it. Carefully. But right after that it was back to the haste of escaping. No doors could hold him back. They were going to get out of there.
Doors couldn't hold him back, no, but a couple of explosions and the whole floor and everything around him shaking like they'd have been caught in one of those high richter earthquakes. The weight he was carrying got to him, causing for him to stumble and with a few unfortunate turns he also flew back. Grip of Kallenger was far gone at this point, the woman could freely go and do whatever she wanted. When she got up that is. She would be fine.
Christofer wouldn't be seeking to carry her for a bit, having hit himself against few things while being sent flying back to the other direction. Kallenger got the corridor, and the canid got the... Well... If one of those sinks still had water running in their valves, pipes, something. If they were still up and working, even if having gotten old during all those years of nothingness, the canid would be wet like a reluctant dog being pushed into the bath. But if there was indeed water, at least it would be cleaning off the red that had started soaking his hair and the back of his head.
Hitting yourself on things with an impact caused damage to your head following was no fun.
The lights flickering were not fun either, but those he could barely even notice, his own vision temporarily so blurry that he had gone and only seen black for a good second or 10, maybe 30. The alarms forced him up though, couldn't keep laying on the floor now. No time to think how much only seeing red or nothing creeped him out.
At this point, Royanna would be better off walking and running on her own two feet. Canid wasn't in as good of a state anymore. His movement would not be as straight anymore, dipping a little to one side and then the other. The pain at the back of his head feeling like someone had pushed something through him. This shouldn't have been the case, but while proceeding with the escape attempt the canid would be hiding a whimper under every other breath of his.
But he was reluctant to slow the others down, so he kept on moving even if he was pained and his body wanted to collapse and hide in a corner rather than run around hallways. Vision was somewhat blurry. The fact that he could only hear high-pitched sounds and with his blurry vision he could only barely be able to tell things from the black and the occasionally flashing red lights. Was he dying? He had never experienced that, he thought, but he wasn't ready to find out if this was the case or if this was what it was like.
Past the sirens, he could only barely hear Kallenger muttering something to herself as they kept running away. The order to halt fire was also only heard with some luck. But he was aware that someone was not too far behind them, someone... possibly hostile... His head couldn't think of making allies at this point, all it did was think of them escaping or in the very least, find some miracle shelter.
But he did notice the tone of Kallenger's voice. It sounded troubled. There was something she knew and he didn't. Nothing new there, but it still made his ears fall back as he tried to make his mind about what the woman was worried of. Or was she worried? Now she was, in his head.
"Listen..." He'd not be talking very loudly, and there was a chance no-one even heard him and his slightly pained voice over the sirens. "Go find a way out or a shelter. You stay hidden, stay quiet, and wait for when it's better time to come find me. Ja?" He was planning something. "You will find me... And if something happened you will at least gather me up and eat me to survive for longer, ok?"
Leave the decision making to the other hazy headed one? Sounds like a brilliant idea. An absolutely brilliant idea.
No use on telling him to retreat from his plans though, it was very likely no Cox, Roy nor Iri-L would have heard his almost whisper like voice from the midst of the sirens. They would keep running as if the canid was still with them. He had fallen a little back with his injuries and dizziness already afterall.
Boy had already turned to run the other way. With a high possibility there was someone following the group. Who knows how far or how close they were, but he'd find the closest one and leap towards them. Leap even if he had no actual weapons or such on him just fangs baren and everything. He wouldn't know who he was attacking to defend the rest, but surely there was at least some spot for him to latch up onto and attempt on at least slowing down the thread that was after them.
D A E D A L U S – Planetary Capitol City
Ketin's heart was racing. His eyes were open wide, looking intensely up at his tall, Elven friend with a look that might have been fear as easily as it was exaltation. There was a euphoria in them - an intense joy at the very fact of life itself, and the preciousness of things like air and consciousness and the subtle sensation of a westward breeze on warm, living flesh.
Yet despite this dominant aura of delight, there was anxiety as well - the anxiety of something - someone else existing inside the confines of his own precious brain. No, wait - it wasn't that at all. Only at first assumption - no, it was the anxiety of those sirens! And the underlying fear of the fragility of life - that same life they found so precious could be wiped out in an instant and there would be no backup. He was living for both of them now.
And there was a mild claustrophobia - acknowledgement that he was not alone in the sanctity of his mind nor body - the ever-present sensation that either he was not whole, or that he was too much for himself. He longed to have backup systems again. Again?
He, they, they, he - them, him, alone, not alone - but they seemed most appropriate. They were sharing. It was his body, but now it was theirs and that was okay. He was harboring her within himself, and thus it was not one holding the other, but both becoming one. It was impossible to describe, and yet he understood it perfectly. It was beyond comprehension and yet he could describe it to the heavens and proclaim it to the earth, and whisper it to himself and let the truth of it fall out of him like rain from a cosmic mind.
But mostly it was just awkward.
He wouldn't change it for anything.
He didn't know that part of himself yet. It was someone new within him that, if he hadn't known any better, he might have assumed to be just some repressed memory of self from long ago. But no, it was definitely a new identity existing with him in that one cramped, little brain. He didn't know himself yet, but that was okay. She was the stranger hiding behind his eyes. She was the other part of him that had sprouted in the distant past before he was born, that had come into him like some helpless, lonely phantom invited into a warm, but shadowy house to dwell and bring pale blue light to creaky floors and shadowy corners, and to see out the windows that had gone so long unnoticed.
He didn't know himself yet, but he was welcome to stick around.
Though that blue part of him did have an 'avatar'. He had seen it - her - right? The anthromorph woman, the canid ghost that had stood in rhythmic slow-motion where he knew that only he could see. She was not standing there behind him; she was standing inside his eyes. So, she was a separate entity - but it didn't feel that way.
Regardless, she was welcome company.
Regardless, it was time to go.
He had stood before Nirix and enthused over his success at 'saving' the 'signal thingy' for long enough. He already knew there was little chance of her understanding what in Space he was talking about. Fine. Maybe he could explain later, once he knew a little more himself.
The sirens were getting closer. Nirix was staring at him with the concern that had become so characteristic of her ever since meeting the troublesome little halfie. .
All the lethargy Ketin had accumulated from his earlier battle in the satellite comms building was gone. In fact, the whole memory of the incident had been purged from his mind - his other half could feel it as a particular bundle of electrons was shoved into storage to be hidden away from the conscious. It was like it never happened. Everything was fine. They were in trouble. Time to go.
What, had he just been staring wide-eyed at Nirix for all that time? How long had it been? Seconds, probably - but it suddenly felt like hours had passed - and everything was fine, but they were in trouble and it was time to go!
Without a word, Kete latched onto Nirix's hand and bolted off down the alley.
As he ran, he was overcome with the sudden realization that he had left his new friend behind! Blue was in slow-motion, he had perceived. Abruptly he came to a stumbling halt and spun around - but whether or not the ghost was still there, of if she had appeared somewhere else to his eyes - he would realize it with a pressing urgency.
Right, stupid. Stupid! She's IN HERE.
Without trying to explain why he had stopped and spun about, Kete continued the way he had started, still holding Nirix's hand, since it seemed unlikely that she would see any reason to go prying herself free from his grip, even if his palms were a tad sweaty, despite the chill in the winter-esque air.
The sirens - and there was another view! Eyes of a police officer - local cops - an abrupt turn to avoid him! This was what it was like to know the future - to know what lie around every corner.
Not every corner. Around the next corner was a heap of detritus that he could not have seen beforehand, for it did not have eyes. He, and likely Nirix with him, stumbled over the junk, but recovery was hasty and they were on their way within seconds, perhaps less.
A squad car appeared at the end of the alley they were presently traversing, and it was too late to double back - that would just earn them bullets between the shoulder blades, or stunners, at least. No good. So Kete just kept running, and leaped over the squad car with Nirix in tow. It was a tad more awkward a gesture since he insisted on clinging to the woman's hand, but doubtless her own exceptional agility would be able to make up for it and keep them from falling into disaster.
Across the street, but not before a bus was forced to swerve onto the sidewalk and into a glass storefront to avoid him. A series of taxi cabs were piling up behind them as they traversed into the next alley. Things were escalating quickly. - but Kete wasn't known as City-Killer for nothing,
This was fun, he realized. Doubling around another shadowy alleyway corner and leaping over a tumbled trashcan with assorted homeless people sleeping nearby, it occurred to him that this, this was normal. This was the kind of devious entertainment he had come to appreciate over the decades.
The centuries.
He was still a little troublemaker. As long as nobody got hurt - and it was pretty easy to convince himself that everyone involved in the bus accident behind them was going to be just fine. There was a momentary pang of guilt - an abrupt realization that no, he was hurting people! That he should recognize the effects of his actions on others! But he shot down those impulses subconsciously and with ferocity. Everything would be fine. Nothing he did was going to hurt anyone. He was sure of it. He believed it, whether the whole of him liked it or not.
But no matter what he thought, the fugitive had still gone from person of interest to public menace in the eyes of the civil servants, and the alert had been cast. Some corner of his mind caught that tidbit from a nearby police radio, just barely, but naturally as breathing.
And breathing was nice, wasn't it?
A fence blocked their path, but there was time enough to scale it. Once on the other side, the environment seemed different - the color scheme had gone from the reds and browns of a mid-tech city to the steely blue-greys and silvers of a much more modern development. It didn't take long for the reason to become apparent however - a sign on one of the smooth, modern buildings read "Future site of the Silver Stars upper-class housing district!"
It was a gated community in the making. Construction equipment could be seen as they delved deeper into this 'city within a city', where the buildings towered over them like gleaming metal spires, dwarfing all the squat, brick-and-mortar structures which dominated the remainder of the city. Some of the construction vehicles were moving. Some workmen were installing a moving walkway for the city of the future! and they gave curious, befuddled glances to the fugitives as they trotted by. There was not so much of a rush at the moment, since their coming here had bought some time.
But not a lot.
"That's the Devil Eye!" came a voice from somewhere behind. Then came the commotion. Somebody shouting something about 'getting rich'.
"I GOT 'EM!" came another voice from above. The voice was that of Slightly-Orange Steve, who was known as such around the worksite because his skin was slightly orange, and because his given name was Steven. Slightly-Orange Steve was in charge of one of the hydrogen magni-cranes, used primarily for exactly what cranes were used for. He was also slightly unwell mentally. Realistically, nobody should ever have given a heavy machinery license, but that was beside the point.
The point was that Slightly-Orange Steve thought it would be a good idea to attempt a hasty capture of the Devil Eye by knocking the fugitives down long enough for his 'comrades' to tackle him. They would all be rich!
A great steel beam came lunging at Ketin and Nirix from nowhere, as the crane above swung wildly about in a mad attempt to swat the tiny figures down. Needless to say, some simple evasive maneuvers were enough to get them safely out of the crane's range - but there was nothing that Kete could do to keep Slightly-Orange Steve from crashing the boom of the crane into one of the skyscrapers, making the half-finished structure buckle in upon itself and groan with dreadful loudness as beams began to give way to what would soon be a cacophony of destruction.
Only adding to the trouble was the police hovercar which was now barreling between the buildings toward the fugitives. It had a sonic wave stunner ready and aimed - it was all Kete could do to take control over one of the other cranes, and drop the steel beam payload right atop the pursuing machine. Naturally, it spun out of control, crashing with no small force into another nearby building and...
The fugitives were out of the field of view by the time more creaks and groans began to give way to explosive collisions and other sounds of chaos and discord. More police were coming in by the second, all getting in each others' way, all making it worse and worse, and worse...
But Kete had happened upon something he was very pleased to see - a truck.
It was a small flatbed straight-truck, with room for two in the cab and some unidentified piece of heavy machinery on the back that had been almost fully unchained before something apparently called the workers elsewhere. Beaming, Kete scurried to the truck and climbed up into the cab - no small effort for someone of his diminutive size - the machine roared to life even as he lowered the seat enough to reach the pedals, with no ignition required - starting a hydrogen-powered vehicle was a very simple matter for the Devil's Eye.
"C'mon Ny' hop in!" he called to Nirix, if for some reason she hadn't gotten into the passenger seat yet.
Vaguely he could perceive someone approaching from behind - but it was of no concern to him. He gunned it, pedal-to-the-metal and the impressive torque of the hydrogen cylinders getting them moving much faster than any old combustion engine would. They were going fifty within seconds, and all the while, the fox was smiling like a madman.
He had only to go straight ahead - there was a tunnel that went under some of the buildings, and he was pretty sure he knew where it went.
The engine roared and suddenly they were in the tunnel, only sparsely lit by far-spaced lights in the ceiling. The truck's high-beams flicked on without the need for Kete to take hands off the wheel. He had always loved vehicles like these - anything that rolled on the ground or hovered just above it. He had always been too afraid to pilot anything that flew, but something like this he could integrate himself with masterfully to obtain total control over the vehicle and make it an extension of himself. All the sensors were his - the rear-view camera was in his head, he could have turned the radio on if he wanted.
There was no need to flip the switch - the bed raised itself and dumped the heavy yellow equipment behind them. It crashed with deafening rumbles as it tumbled to a hat, blocking the tunnel off completely.
Giggling, he glanced behind anyway to watch the smoking ruin that would keep the cops at bay that much longer. A glance through a security camera up ahead confirmed his suspicions about the tunnel - so he had one last trick up his sleeve.
The tunnel branched up ahead. There was a single door mounted in the center, which would swing to cover up one route or the other - a means of directing the traffic. The tunnel was, of course, built for transporting equipment and building materials from the starport (and seaport) to the building site.
It was a simple matter of flicking the big door one way, and telling the sensors that it had gone the other way. Naturally the police would check with traffic control to find out which way the fugitives would emerge, and send all the forces there. Shortly, a mass of police and special forces vehicles would be gathering at the Mariner's Memorial Seaport. Kete's now empty flatbed truck, however, would emerge deep within the cargo and landing fields of the Sagan Starport, where they would go quite unnoticed in the seldom-visited zone. They were in the clear.
Letting off the accelerator, Kete leaned back in his seat, letting the machine slow to a more reasonable, but still very fast pace.
He grinned over at Nirix as if to say 'pretty good, right~?'
N O T S P A C E – The Stella Viventium
Caru
"That's why I'll be your friend~!"
Yascra's scowl deepened - because it was apparently a law of nature that Gaelan Yascra could, despite all known physical properties, continue looking progressively more displeased indefinitely.
"Yeah, great." He muttered.
When he caught a glimpse of Caru's little...thing he rudely snatched it from his hands, despite being offered in the first place. He turned it over in his palm, opened it, scanned it with BrainPal™ and handed it back with an unpleasant shove.
"Fine. I'll need to talk to Harkahn about it though. He...awww, @#$%." He had given the characteristic 'up glance' that was used when accessing the BP interface, and a look of dread and exhaustion fell over him. "He's stuck in a railcar tube. Only way to get him out'll be...ugh. Alright, we've got to go pay The Doc a visit. The idiot never answers his BrainPal™. Come on. I think you'll like this guy." A nod of the head, and those last words spoken with a knowing grin.
Hallways, hallways, stairs, railcar pod, plush velvety seating, automatically closing door and rapid acceleration through drab, evenly lit tunnels. The vague sensation of upwards or downwards movement, the occasional awareness of a tight curve or even a spiral, but with the momentum dampened so as to make it little more than a mild discomfort, if that.
Picking up where their previous conversation left off, he leaned forward to rest arms on knees and frowned.
"Nah, they're both pretty set on seeing the Stella put out of commission. Especially that Codsworth @#$%. Ugh. Isn't there some way to kill them? I mean, uh, since you're the Lord of Love and Whatever I...promise not to use it. Just wanna' know it. There's gotta' be some way to kill them dead for good. Are they immune to bullets? Or, like, nukes? I mean, everything dies, right? Death is, like, the universal philosophy or some @#$%. Inevitably that which lives must die. Ever read 'The Art of War"? No, course you haven't. Good read."
It must have been some Dimensional magic that was getting Yascra to open up and talk so conversationally - even if the only thing he wanted to talk about was death and killing. Better than nothing, right? Or progress, at least...
Rya
Doubt struck like a pinprick to the back of the brain.
Artificial? No. More less, less, more, doubt. Doubtless! DOUBT.
It interrupted everything else, pierced through the reverie of azure seas and sapphire depths. She had taken deep breaths and stabilized her mind, only to have this needle-spear of doubt penetrate that temporary solace with the nagging uncertainty of wellness and the certainty that something is wrong.
Of course, she was still as in control of her brain as she ever was - but the impulse, the urge to doubt was a vicious tug at her consciousness, begging to be focused upon, dwelled upon, screaming silently the fundamental wrongness of, of...of...of what?
It might have felt to last much longer than it actually had, that piercing blow of doubt, yet exactly what she was supposed to be doubting was eluding her - leaving her to fill in the blanks. She had to doubt something, but what that something was hers to decide, consciously or otherwise.
Regardless, it would not be so easily sated. A second wave, however, followed shortly thereafter and it was much more pleasant. There was the urge, though suppressed and softened to be gentle while no less intense, to remind herself that yes, she had died in a storm.
And that was okay.
Everything was as she remembered it. It was a terrible memory, a vivid nightmare from which no mortal soul should ever have awakened - but it was the truth, and that was okay. Whatever she felt the need to doubt, it wasn't that.
Strange, how so much could shoot through the mind in so short a time, yet perception could drag it out to lifetimes of sitting and thinking, and thinking and sitting, and thinking and remembering and thinking about how everything was just as she remembered it and remembering to remember and to forget not remembering and...
Drakis was watching the girl all the while, first with a dubious look of confusion and concern, that melted into something more approaching sympathy. "You're a pretty weird kid, y'know that?" he said, though softly - a gently teasing sort of tone that was clearly concerned for her wellbeing.
He seemed about to say something else, when he was interrupted by a BrainPal(TM) message - indicated by the way he looked upwards while consciously accessing the interface. Then his frown deepened, and he gave a huff, returning his attention to Rya.
"Looks like the Doc's stuck in one of the railway tunnels. Ain't my department so I gotta' go see Pops. Ol' coot never uses his BrainPal™, pain in the ass. You wanna' come along for the ride?" He seemed, however slightly, as though he would have strongly preferred she did join him. He was concerned - more than he would show, of course - about the girl in general, and further disturbed by the prospect of what she might come to if left on her own.
The intensity of that spear of doubt and the opposing wave of assurance in memory would not return, though things were still happening.
In the back of her mind, as a nagging thought which peaked more at interested musings than any strong emotion, it manifested without her will - but then, feelings and thoughts had a way of doing that.
It hearkened back to her earlier feelings of regret. It was the memory of that regret, seen from a vaguely dispassionate, almost clinical standpoint. Oh, it was still her emotion, but seen through a looking glass.
She would remain functional as the dialogue unfolded. It was in the back of her head, always there but unobtrusive. She would remain functional so long as she truly desired to do so.
There were words that were not words - a voice that was not a voice - thoughts that were spawned from her own mind and yet were foreign and strange. No text, no sound, no words spoken or conceived - an idea, half-formed at the edge of consciousness in the place between wakefulness and forgotten dreams.
R̕ͅ ̛̞͕E̵̤̼ ̫͔̖̫͈͘G ̦̦̥͔͕̰͙Ṛ͕͇̮̠ ͎E̴ T̴̝̫̱̜̖̩ is...a ter͕̤̮̼͟ͅrible t ̧h͞ i͝ n ǵ, isn't it? It/she/nobody said/thought/conceived/forgot/dreamed.
But I̛͡/̸̸́we/̡̕y̵̴͡ó͠͞u͟҉ should take it E͚̘̺̭ ̷̫Ą̱̻̩͖̗̖ ̡̙̲̥S̗ ͙̱̼̰̙̫̣͘Y̖̮.͏̻̟̮.̱̻.
Al͝l͠ thin͠g͞s will come in T̻̯͉͎̠̗ ̗̞̹̤̳͖̦I̪ ̥́M͓ E.̤̜
Yo̢u̢/̨w͝e̛/̶̷̀I/͝͏t̡h̛͘͝e҉̶ý/͘ever̴͠y͟b̢̢͝òdy͞/̷̨͟Ŷ̸ͣ̂̃̚͏̖͕̖͍̭ ̵̠̣̻̜̘͚̫̥̪ͬ̿͛O̧̢̭ͦͯ̌ͬͭ̈̏͑͜ ̡́͂͏̸̼̫̖̗̖U̵͋͛̄͛̅ͩ̓̌ͅ awoke for a R ͏E͟ A͡ S ͝O̶ N and R̯̜̮̜ͅ ̪̜͙ͅE̱ ͍̠̗G̴̟ R̡ ̘͘E̙̩̥͚͙͖̩ ̲̣͜Ţ̬̣̯ comes to those who S̕ ͏H̛ ͟I͘ ̡R̷ K ͠tḩeir ͜Ŗ ̕E S̶ ͡P͞ ̧O ͘N̕ I̢ B I L I̢ ҉T̨ ͠I ̴E̴ ̨S.̸
Y̛͠o͢͢uIW̷͞eT͢h͏̴ey͞ should be H͙̺ͅͅ ̷̲̠͍̪͚͉E͓̠̺̠̺̟͕͟ ̙L̲ ̺̻̫̤̟P̗̯͈͈ ̛̮̩̯̗I̴ ̙̱̥̱͙͎̠N̖̯̪̥̳̦͈ ̫̩̤G̩̲̠̯̞ . . .
.̷..͟.̴.͡..w͏ìth͏.̀....͝.
as͞old͡i̧er̴sd͘út͟iès-..͏.̕-..͝.-͘.͝.̷.͘-҉.͢.̸.͏-̢.͜.͘.͘-.҉.̧.-...-҉..̕.͝-͘yo̢ud͝i͜ed̢i͘n̶a͡s҉to͢rm͞-͞.̸.́.-̸...͞-͞...̶-..͢.-̷.͢.͟.-.̵..-...̨-.̨..-you̴a̷r̡e̷af͠àilu͞r̢e͜-..́.̢-̀..͝.̴-҉.͞..-..͜.̴-.͜.̴.-͡.̡.͘.͝-҉...͝-..̢.-yo̕u͞are̷goin̕gm͠ąd-..̧.͞-̧.͜.͞.-̧..̸.-...-̡...́-...-̸...̀-̶.͘.͢.̸-̨wear̵èallm̛adh͜e̴r͠e̡-͏..̴.͜-.͜.̕.-..-ḑow̷hat̡[̶yoùa̶ŗet͝oĺddowha͏t͢y͞o͢u͠ar̀ȩt̢ol͞d͞d̕o͢wha͢tyouare҉m̕e̡antt͡odo͝to͏d͟o͜t̢odo̢t͡odotơdo̵w͢ha̡t҉youarèm͠ęaņt̢tǫd͟[͢s̢iz͢e̷=̴1̨]̡ow҉hatyoúw̢er͢e̵bo͡r͘nt͠o͘dow̧h͝atyou͟wi̸lĺd͘i͠et҉odo͡w̕hat͠y̷óùmu͡stdo͞w͟ha̢ty̡o̵uc͞ann̴o͜t̀d͠ow̢h͜atỳo̴u͝wi͠ll̸d̵ơwha̸tyo̕uha̶v̷ed̕ǫǹe͞what͡ha͠v̢eyo͞udo̢new͜h͘a̵ţhąve̶yǫųd̨onewh̷a̶t̸hav͝éy̴oudo͘n̢e̡w͡hąt͏h̶av͠e̷youdo̧new͟h͟a͏th̴a͜ve͜youd̡ǫn͘ew̧h̨at͘ha̢v̵e̕yo͘udonew̢h͜at̨h̕a̢v[͏size=1]e̴yo͠udo͠ńewha͘t̴have̶yo҉u͘do̷ne..̕....̶.̧....͜..̀..͡.
A R D E L L A – Abandoned Imperial Bunker
They were safe, at least temporarily, from the onslaught of soldiers and combusting plasma-birds. Iri-L was an excellent shield - she and her hunk of bunker could take a lot more plasma and high-impact bullets than anyone else in the group. Though, curiously, nobody had actually opened fire yet.
So they ran.
Throughout the bunker, the soldiers in black were just now realizing that they had been shooting at phantoms - images created by the powerful beings centralized at the operation. The robot birds were having a harder time with this, and continued to occasionally fly into walls or drop onto the floor to release their plasma payload onto unfortunate bunker-bits.
The real threat had become apparent with the great, bellowing roar that shook the sturdy walls and the very floor itself. The soldiers rushed to their demise just like any good war-machine would dictate. Even the birds eventually managed to get it through their simple, robotic brains to switch targets, as the phantoms faded into oblivion. They converged on the beast, and opened fire on sight.
Dozens would be immediately slaughtered with a single sweep of the great creature's terrible appendage, or perhaps some hidden weapon beneath the ebony fur. The birds pummeled it from both sides, some even proving clever enough to try and fly into the monster's gaping maw. The soldiers came from both sides too, using the creature's size against it - it couldn’t be facing both directions at once, right?
Regardless, no matter how much damage they did manage to do to it, the casualties would be immense. The narrow hallways were a meat grinder, chunks of gore and streaming trails of viscera speckled with the white of shattered bone and the black of armor shredded as finely as the decimated flesh. It was not going to be long battle, one way or another. IT was numbers versus size - the only real advantage on the soldiers' side being the seemingly limitless supply of birds.
But the were completing their mission even as they sprinted to the slaughter - they were keeping the monster away from their real target.
A new variety of robot bird began to join the fray now - larger, darker grey things that - that's right - shot lasers from guns mounted within their beaks. Their talons were razor rakes that, if they could get close enough, would tear mercilessly at the matted fur and increasingly damaged flesh of the monster. They were, to say the least, tacky, obtuse, impractical, bizarre and...tacky.
At a distance ever-increasing from the bloodbath, soldiers still pursued the fugitive K-Team. They shouted to halt and submit to...something or other. The blaring alarm made it difficult to hear anything more than a few feet away.
But Royanna Kallenger had honed such senses to finer than a wine enthusiast's palette...And still she did not hear exactly what they were saying. She didn't care. All she cared about was the barely audible words that she couldn't believe she was hearing uttered from her canine companion.
Two more plasma birds on Iril's shield distracted the woman for the necessary seconds. By the time she realized that Christofer had taken to bounding the other way, and connected the fact that he actually meant what he was saying it was too late - he was already well down the hall.
Kallenger skidded to a halt, stopping so abruptly as to be nearly knocked down by Iril's still fleeing body. The woman was not feeling well. Her innards felt like churning fire, her veins like ice - her mind was static and buzzing and her eyes were hyper-focused - and she was MAD.
"Keep moving! Hold down the fort as close to this position as you can! We'll be back in a minute!" She half-screamed to Iril and Cox as she doubled back in the direction that Christofer had gone fleeing. She was a mess, but currently not stupid enough to go saying 'go on without me'. Not while 47 was here.
In Christofer's hazy vision, the figure of a soldier in black would come into view. He intended to attack, to latch on, anything - but just as he was about to make the leap, the black helmet burst from within itself into a thousand fragments of carbon death and pinkish face slime. The body fell over instantly - and something slammed into Christofer from behind with the force of a professional quarterback. He'd be knocked clean to the ground and pinned there by the weight of another body. Shots barked out in the immediate vicinity. Tiny, harmless, but still slightly painful spatters of plasma showered the two of them. No damage in such quantity, but it would burn for some seconds yet. There was another gunshot, and screeching metal as it went clattering to the floor in a heap.
Then, Christofer was being rolled over onto his back, but the person was not letting him get up. Royanna grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shook him violently. She looked furious, and more wounded than she had been - coincidentally, something had carved into her face right where the two scratches had been earlier. There would definitely be scars now. Her face was a mess of blood and sweat, with black hair plastered to her forehead and eyes that were wide, and as intense as anyone had ever seen them. And, there was something else about them too...
"What the @#$% are you DOING you @#$%ing sack of @#$%!!" It was not a question. Her breaths were heaving and harsh, eyes wild and almost insane with fury and intensity. "You wanna’ @#$%ing die, IS THAT IT?! You wanna’ be some kind of MARTYR or some @#$%?! Everything I've done to keep you safe and it still ain't good enough huh? @#$% you, dammit! You're all I have left, do you understand that?! I am NOT going to let either one of us die! Especially not YOU, no matter WHAT!!" The other strange thing about her eyes suddenly became apparent - they were welled with tears, that mingled with the blood and sweat and dripped onto Cristofer's face. The woman was crying - weeping openly, in what was clearly the most intense of any emotion she had exhibited so far. Eyes wide and peircing biting with the sort of feelings that she wouldn't have had the words for if she tried. Unspeakable pain, desperation, terror, wrapped up in fury and rage and anguish.
"If you EVER pull this kind of !#@$ again I'LL FINISHTHEJOBMYSELF! Do you understand!?" She had been shaking him violently against the floor with every word for emphasis - but just at the end he would feel the unmistakable sensation of the barrel of a gun pressing into the fleshy underside of his jaw. It pressed up hard - probably it would leave a bruise, but that was least of anyone's concerns now.
The gun only came away when she lifted it up to blast away another soldier unlucky enough to round the corner. HE fell, and she stood, dragging Christofer up with her.
"Now come on you sonofab*tch! We're leaving!"
And, leaving behind a small wasteland of black armored bodies, Royanna would clamp her hand around Christofer's wrist and drag him with all force necessary to the safety of Iril's shield and Cox's backup, and ideally to the surface, and to real safety. She didn't care what it took - if it took every last milijoule of energy in her body she would drag him with her to safety.
EARTH IV – Earth City
Hiram took one last deep, succulent drag off the fat cigar hanging between his lips. The folds of fat over his heavy brow creased in concentration and determination. In his stubby, sausage-link fingers he gripped the shotgun, hefting it in his hands as if to emphasize to the door he was facing that it was, in fact, a real, solid weapon. The look in his small, but piercing eyes told the door that he was quite prepared to use it.
He was a very fat man, but it made him no less intimidating, partly due to his impressive height. He was an old man - head bald but for a band of short, silvery white hair around the back of his head from the temples. Yet neither did his age detract from the presence of the man, who stood like a solid rock giant among men and glared down those who opposed him with pale blue eyes as gentle, and vicious, and unforgetting as a wild elephant.
He wore an apocalyptic parody of his old attire. Soft leather shoes had been replaced with sturdy combat boots. Navy blue trousers were still present, but thin panels of carbon-steel had been stitched into the fabric to create an armored figure, and a collection of pouches hanging from a black nylon belt substituted his old leather one with the gold buckle. His baby blue collared shirt and red tie were gone and replaced with a dirty - though not soiled - white T shirt. His jacket was still there though - similarly stitched with armor plating, and with both sleeves torn off. His arms, great, beefy trunks of muscle, belied his obesity. A bandolier holding spare shells and a few high explosives was slung snugly over his shoulder. A red bandanna was tied like a symbol around his left bicep. His wrists held a beaten old communicator and a small, but potent wrist-mounted laser. The little pin of the old Earth City flag was still on the chest of his now armored navy blue suit jacket.
"Ready boys?" He growled, teeth forming a grin clamped around the cigar, which smoked lazily in the dark, dingy atmosphere of the basement hallway.
"Let's teach 'em a lesson, Boss."
The two men standing behind Hiram were dressed in black combat armor, with matching visored helmets that exposed only the lower halves of their faces. The armor might have been a matching set at one point, but damage and wear had changed that. One was missing one sleeve, exposing well muscled, ebony skin. Both men had matching red bandannas tied around their left arms, and the ebony-skinned man's inconspicuous tattoo of the number '13' on his left bicep was only partially obscured.
The other man, slightly shorter, had done some repairs to his armor - substituting coppery metal plates where the old carbon had been lost. Some small metal brackets partially obscured his vision where repairs to hold together the cracked glass of his visor had been made. Scrawled along the side of his helmet in what might have been red paint were the words
"4 MY SCORE"
Painted on both mens' breastplates was the blue sphere and red burst, and acronym ECLF - the Earth City Liberation Front.
Both men carried advanced looking matte-black assault rifles, though the dark skinned man's had a longer barrel, and seemed to have been partially converted to serve as a sniper rifle or assault weapon alternately.
"Let's do this." Hiram growled, and kicked open the door.
The occupants scattered immediately. A dark, musty basement with card tables and folding chairs flipping over as scrawny drug-heads and gang-bangers scrambled to escape, or to assume a fighting stance.
There was the click click of the shotgun, and the THUMBOOM!! as a shell spewed deadly, white-hot buckshot into the face of a man who was charging with a switchblade.
Hiram stepped forward, pumping the old weapon and laying waste with systematic precision to anyone unable to reach cover in time. As he moved, the armored men appeared behind him from the doorway with rifles raised. The chatter of bullets fired at incredible rates overwhelmed the shotgun's low thumping. Chipped paint from the whitewashed walls, bits of concrete from the filthy floor, scraps of wood and metal from tables and chairs and musty old sofas, the blood of the downed gangsters as it spattered carelessly, as the bullets fell down indiscriminately upon them. They tried to fire back with their own meager arms, but it was useless.
Within seconds, anyone who had not immediately fled through the back door was gurgling crimson and leaking bodily viscera onto the pocked floor to mingle with white powders and dirty syringes.
Small eyes narrowed and scanned the silence of the room and locked onto the safe embedded in the wall behind the makeshift kitchen serving as a meth lab. He idly, one-handedly blew the skull of one still possibly living gangbanger into minute splintering fragments and leaky innards as he walked by. He raised the gun and blasted the lock off the safe, proceeding to rummage about inside and take a small stack of papers from within. Puffing the cigar, eyes flicked over the words for some seconds. At last his grimace turned to a wide, toothy grin, chewing on the cigar as he nodded to his men.
They proceeded back to street-level, where an ashen dusk was falling over the streets of Earth City. Having slipped the papers into his jacket, Hiram idly reloaded the shells as he and the two armored men strolled down the sidewalk, mostly abandoned now. Looking momentarily to thee south, he could see the edge of the park. Just beyond, a small spacecraft was taking off, glowing brightly in the dusky light as it ascended. A converted civilian craft, Hiram guessed. It had to be armed.
A similarly civilian-converted groundcar was waiting for them at the end of the street. The three men squeezed into the back of the makeshift tank, an old hydrogen-powered SUV with thick metal plates bolted all over the chassis.
The streets had not been a warzone since General Sanders' sacrifice at the docks, when then city had been illuminated with a second sun and incredible death tolls had battered at the population. His final act of defiance had quelled the vast majority of the rebellion against the new Kampferian occupation, but scattered resistance had still remained.
Hiram's Earth City Liberation Front had started out as one such rebel group, but it had become apparent over the weeks that the real enemy was not the Kampferian military police - but the anarchists plaguing the city from within, causing trouble everywhere they could for no apparent reason.. There was also the matter of the corrupted Kampferian officers who had made deals with local gangs to push powder and keep the conflicts kindled all in the pursuit of power and money. Once the MP realized that the ECLF was more interested in having a common enemy than a three-way war, the factions had left each other largely alone, with Kampferian soldiers turning a blind eye to ECLF raids on local drug dens.
But Hiram was looking for bigger fish now. The situation in Earth City was finally stabilizing, and most of the corrupt Kampferian operations had been rooted out. The Front had turned into a formidable army after the raids on Kampferian arms depots that had been framed as corrupt Kampferian smuggling - and that army was at Hiram's command, so long as there was something to fight for. Earth IV didn't need them any more - bigger fish.
And now Hiram had finally found what he needed - because to catch bigger fish, he was going to need a bigger boat. One of the corrupted Kampferian officials had smuggled himself away the plans for a prototype battle cruiser which would make whoever was in control of it more than a formidable force to be reckoned with. More importantly, the documents included the location of the cruiser - it was being constructed in an underwater base situated nearby a small, subarctic island to the north.
Hiram grinned to himself, as the driver took the armored SUV down the streets littered with wrecked cars and strewn with the remnants of debris left over from the initial occupation. Soon, there would be an exodus of the ECLF 'militia' from Earth City. As soon as he returned to the base, he would inform the men, and begin making plans for a full covert assault with his cabinet. From Earth, to the stars....to Kampfer.
Ketin's heart was racing. His eyes were open wide, looking intensely up at his tall, Elven friend with a look that might have been fear as easily as it was exaltation. There was a euphoria in them - an intense joy at the very fact of life itself, and the preciousness of things like air and consciousness and the subtle sensation of a westward breeze on warm, living flesh.
Yet despite this dominant aura of delight, there was anxiety as well - the anxiety of something - someone else existing inside the confines of his own precious brain. No, wait - it wasn't that at all. Only at first assumption - no, it was the anxiety of those sirens! And the underlying fear of the fragility of life - that same life they found so precious could be wiped out in an instant and there would be no backup. He was living for both of them now.
And there was a mild claustrophobia - acknowledgement that he was not alone in the sanctity of his mind nor body - the ever-present sensation that either he was not whole, or that he was too much for himself. He longed to have backup systems again. Again?
He, they, they, he - them, him, alone, not alone - but they seemed most appropriate. They were sharing. It was his body, but now it was theirs and that was okay. He was harboring her within himself, and thus it was not one holding the other, but both becoming one. It was impossible to describe, and yet he understood it perfectly. It was beyond comprehension and yet he could describe it to the heavens and proclaim it to the earth, and whisper it to himself and let the truth of it fall out of him like rain from a cosmic mind.
But mostly it was just awkward.
He wouldn't change it for anything.
He didn't know that part of himself yet. It was someone new within him that, if he hadn't known any better, he might have assumed to be just some repressed memory of self from long ago. But no, it was definitely a new identity existing with him in that one cramped, little brain. He didn't know himself yet, but that was okay. She was the stranger hiding behind his eyes. She was the other part of him that had sprouted in the distant past before he was born, that had come into him like some helpless, lonely phantom invited into a warm, but shadowy house to dwell and bring pale blue light to creaky floors and shadowy corners, and to see out the windows that had gone so long unnoticed.
He didn't know himself yet, but he was welcome to stick around.
Though that blue part of him did have an 'avatar'. He had seen it - her - right? The anthromorph woman, the canid ghost that had stood in rhythmic slow-motion where he knew that only he could see. She was not standing there behind him; she was standing inside his eyes. So, she was a separate entity - but it didn't feel that way.
Regardless, she was welcome company.
Regardless, it was time to go.
He had stood before Nirix and enthused over his success at 'saving' the 'signal thingy' for long enough. He already knew there was little chance of her understanding what in Space he was talking about. Fine. Maybe he could explain later, once he knew a little more himself.
The sirens were getting closer. Nirix was staring at him with the concern that had become so characteristic of her ever since meeting the troublesome little halfie. .
All the lethargy Ketin had accumulated from his earlier battle in the satellite comms building was gone. In fact, the whole memory of the incident had been purged from his mind - his other half could feel it as a particular bundle of electrons was shoved into storage to be hidden away from the conscious. It was like it never happened. Everything was fine. They were in trouble. Time to go.
What, had he just been staring wide-eyed at Nirix for all that time? How long had it been? Seconds, probably - but it suddenly felt like hours had passed - and everything was fine, but they were in trouble and it was time to go!
Without a word, Kete latched onto Nirix's hand and bolted off down the alley.
As he ran, he was overcome with the sudden realization that he had left his new friend behind! Blue was in slow-motion, he had perceived. Abruptly he came to a stumbling halt and spun around - but whether or not the ghost was still there, of if she had appeared somewhere else to his eyes - he would realize it with a pressing urgency.
Right, stupid. Stupid! She's IN HERE.
Without trying to explain why he had stopped and spun about, Kete continued the way he had started, still holding Nirix's hand, since it seemed unlikely that she would see any reason to go prying herself free from his grip, even if his palms were a tad sweaty, despite the chill in the winter-esque air.
The sirens - and there was another view! Eyes of a police officer - local cops - an abrupt turn to avoid him! This was what it was like to know the future - to know what lie around every corner.
Not every corner. Around the next corner was a heap of detritus that he could not have seen beforehand, for it did not have eyes. He, and likely Nirix with him, stumbled over the junk, but recovery was hasty and they were on their way within seconds, perhaps less.
A squad car appeared at the end of the alley they were presently traversing, and it was too late to double back - that would just earn them bullets between the shoulder blades, or stunners, at least. No good. So Kete just kept running, and leaped over the squad car with Nirix in tow. It was a tad more awkward a gesture since he insisted on clinging to the woman's hand, but doubtless her own exceptional agility would be able to make up for it and keep them from falling into disaster.
Across the street, but not before a bus was forced to swerve onto the sidewalk and into a glass storefront to avoid him. A series of taxi cabs were piling up behind them as they traversed into the next alley. Things were escalating quickly. - but Kete wasn't known as City-Killer for nothing,
This was fun, he realized. Doubling around another shadowy alleyway corner and leaping over a tumbled trashcan with assorted homeless people sleeping nearby, it occurred to him that this, this was normal. This was the kind of devious entertainment he had come to appreciate over the decades.
The centuries.
He was still a little troublemaker. As long as nobody got hurt - and it was pretty easy to convince himself that everyone involved in the bus accident behind them was going to be just fine. There was a momentary pang of guilt - an abrupt realization that no, he was hurting people! That he should recognize the effects of his actions on others! But he shot down those impulses subconsciously and with ferocity. Everything would be fine. Nothing he did was going to hurt anyone. He was sure of it. He believed it, whether the whole of him liked it or not.
But no matter what he thought, the fugitive had still gone from person of interest to public menace in the eyes of the civil servants, and the alert had been cast. Some corner of his mind caught that tidbit from a nearby police radio, just barely, but naturally as breathing.
And breathing was nice, wasn't it?
A fence blocked their path, but there was time enough to scale it. Once on the other side, the environment seemed different - the color scheme had gone from the reds and browns of a mid-tech city to the steely blue-greys and silvers of a much more modern development. It didn't take long for the reason to become apparent however - a sign on one of the smooth, modern buildings read "Future site of the Silver Stars upper-class housing district!"
It was a gated community in the making. Construction equipment could be seen as they delved deeper into this 'city within a city', where the buildings towered over them like gleaming metal spires, dwarfing all the squat, brick-and-mortar structures which dominated the remainder of the city. Some of the construction vehicles were moving. Some workmen were installing a moving walkway for the city of the future! and they gave curious, befuddled glances to the fugitives as they trotted by. There was not so much of a rush at the moment, since their coming here had bought some time.
But not a lot.
"That's the Devil Eye!" came a voice from somewhere behind. Then came the commotion. Somebody shouting something about 'getting rich'.
"I GOT 'EM!" came another voice from above. The voice was that of Slightly-Orange Steve, who was known as such around the worksite because his skin was slightly orange, and because his given name was Steven. Slightly-Orange Steve was in charge of one of the hydrogen magni-cranes, used primarily for exactly what cranes were used for. He was also slightly unwell mentally. Realistically, nobody should ever have given a heavy machinery license, but that was beside the point.
The point was that Slightly-Orange Steve thought it would be a good idea to attempt a hasty capture of the Devil Eye by knocking the fugitives down long enough for his 'comrades' to tackle him. They would all be rich!
A great steel beam came lunging at Ketin and Nirix from nowhere, as the crane above swung wildly about in a mad attempt to swat the tiny figures down. Needless to say, some simple evasive maneuvers were enough to get them safely out of the crane's range - but there was nothing that Kete could do to keep Slightly-Orange Steve from crashing the boom of the crane into one of the skyscrapers, making the half-finished structure buckle in upon itself and groan with dreadful loudness as beams began to give way to what would soon be a cacophony of destruction.
Only adding to the trouble was the police hovercar which was now barreling between the buildings toward the fugitives. It had a sonic wave stunner ready and aimed - it was all Kete could do to take control over one of the other cranes, and drop the steel beam payload right atop the pursuing machine. Naturally, it spun out of control, crashing with no small force into another nearby building and...
The fugitives were out of the field of view by the time more creaks and groans began to give way to explosive collisions and other sounds of chaos and discord. More police were coming in by the second, all getting in each others' way, all making it worse and worse, and worse...
But Kete had happened upon something he was very pleased to see - a truck.
It was a small flatbed straight-truck, with room for two in the cab and some unidentified piece of heavy machinery on the back that had been almost fully unchained before something apparently called the workers elsewhere. Beaming, Kete scurried to the truck and climbed up into the cab - no small effort for someone of his diminutive size - the machine roared to life even as he lowered the seat enough to reach the pedals, with no ignition required - starting a hydrogen-powered vehicle was a very simple matter for the Devil's Eye.
"C'mon Ny' hop in!" he called to Nirix, if for some reason she hadn't gotten into the passenger seat yet.
Vaguely he could perceive someone approaching from behind - but it was of no concern to him. He gunned it, pedal-to-the-metal and the impressive torque of the hydrogen cylinders getting them moving much faster than any old combustion engine would. They were going fifty within seconds, and all the while, the fox was smiling like a madman.
He had only to go straight ahead - there was a tunnel that went under some of the buildings, and he was pretty sure he knew where it went.
The engine roared and suddenly they were in the tunnel, only sparsely lit by far-spaced lights in the ceiling. The truck's high-beams flicked on without the need for Kete to take hands off the wheel. He had always loved vehicles like these - anything that rolled on the ground or hovered just above it. He had always been too afraid to pilot anything that flew, but something like this he could integrate himself with masterfully to obtain total control over the vehicle and make it an extension of himself. All the sensors were his - the rear-view camera was in his head, he could have turned the radio on if he wanted.
There was no need to flip the switch - the bed raised itself and dumped the heavy yellow equipment behind them. It crashed with deafening rumbles as it tumbled to a hat, blocking the tunnel off completely.
Giggling, he glanced behind anyway to watch the smoking ruin that would keep the cops at bay that much longer. A glance through a security camera up ahead confirmed his suspicions about the tunnel - so he had one last trick up his sleeve.
The tunnel branched up ahead. There was a single door mounted in the center, which would swing to cover up one route or the other - a means of directing the traffic. The tunnel was, of course, built for transporting equipment and building materials from the starport (and seaport) to the building site.
It was a simple matter of flicking the big door one way, and telling the sensors that it had gone the other way. Naturally the police would check with traffic control to find out which way the fugitives would emerge, and send all the forces there. Shortly, a mass of police and special forces vehicles would be gathering at the Mariner's Memorial Seaport. Kete's now empty flatbed truck, however, would emerge deep within the cargo and landing fields of the Sagan Starport, where they would go quite unnoticed in the seldom-visited zone. They were in the clear.
Letting off the accelerator, Kete leaned back in his seat, letting the machine slow to a more reasonable, but still very fast pace.
He grinned over at Nirix as if to say 'pretty good, right~?'
N O T S P A C E – The Stella Viventium
Caru
"That's why I'll be your friend~!"
Yascra's scowl deepened - because it was apparently a law of nature that Gaelan Yascra could, despite all known physical properties, continue looking progressively more displeased indefinitely.
"Yeah, great." He muttered.
When he caught a glimpse of Caru's little...thing he rudely snatched it from his hands, despite being offered in the first place. He turned it over in his palm, opened it, scanned it with BrainPal™ and handed it back with an unpleasant shove.
"Fine. I'll need to talk to Harkahn about it though. He...awww, @#$%." He had given the characteristic 'up glance' that was used when accessing the BP interface, and a look of dread and exhaustion fell over him. "He's stuck in a railcar tube. Only way to get him out'll be...ugh. Alright, we've got to go pay The Doc a visit. The idiot never answers his BrainPal™. Come on. I think you'll like this guy." A nod of the head, and those last words spoken with a knowing grin.
Hallways, hallways, stairs, railcar pod, plush velvety seating, automatically closing door and rapid acceleration through drab, evenly lit tunnels. The vague sensation of upwards or downwards movement, the occasional awareness of a tight curve or even a spiral, but with the momentum dampened so as to make it little more than a mild discomfort, if that.
Picking up where their previous conversation left off, he leaned forward to rest arms on knees and frowned.
"Nah, they're both pretty set on seeing the Stella put out of commission. Especially that Codsworth @#$%. Ugh. Isn't there some way to kill them? I mean, uh, since you're the Lord of Love and Whatever I...promise not to use it. Just wanna' know it. There's gotta' be some way to kill them dead for good. Are they immune to bullets? Or, like, nukes? I mean, everything dies, right? Death is, like, the universal philosophy or some @#$%. Inevitably that which lives must die. Ever read 'The Art of War"? No, course you haven't. Good read."
It must have been some Dimensional magic that was getting Yascra to open up and talk so conversationally - even if the only thing he wanted to talk about was death and killing. Better than nothing, right? Or progress, at least...
Rya
Doubt struck like a pinprick to the back of the brain.
Artificial? No. More less, less, more, doubt. Doubtless! DOUBT.
It interrupted everything else, pierced through the reverie of azure seas and sapphire depths. She had taken deep breaths and stabilized her mind, only to have this needle-spear of doubt penetrate that temporary solace with the nagging uncertainty of wellness and the certainty that something is wrong.
Of course, she was still as in control of her brain as she ever was - but the impulse, the urge to doubt was a vicious tug at her consciousness, begging to be focused upon, dwelled upon, screaming silently the fundamental wrongness of, of...of...of what?
It might have felt to last much longer than it actually had, that piercing blow of doubt, yet exactly what she was supposed to be doubting was eluding her - leaving her to fill in the blanks. She had to doubt something, but what that something was hers to decide, consciously or otherwise.
Regardless, it would not be so easily sated. A second wave, however, followed shortly thereafter and it was much more pleasant. There was the urge, though suppressed and softened to be gentle while no less intense, to remind herself that yes, she had died in a storm.
And that was okay.
Everything was as she remembered it. It was a terrible memory, a vivid nightmare from which no mortal soul should ever have awakened - but it was the truth, and that was okay. Whatever she felt the need to doubt, it wasn't that.
Strange, how so much could shoot through the mind in so short a time, yet perception could drag it out to lifetimes of sitting and thinking, and thinking and sitting, and thinking and remembering and thinking about how everything was just as she remembered it and remembering to remember and to forget not remembering and...
Drakis was watching the girl all the while, first with a dubious look of confusion and concern, that melted into something more approaching sympathy. "You're a pretty weird kid, y'know that?" he said, though softly - a gently teasing sort of tone that was clearly concerned for her wellbeing.
He seemed about to say something else, when he was interrupted by a BrainPal(TM) message - indicated by the way he looked upwards while consciously accessing the interface. Then his frown deepened, and he gave a huff, returning his attention to Rya.
"Looks like the Doc's stuck in one of the railway tunnels. Ain't my department so I gotta' go see Pops. Ol' coot never uses his BrainPal™, pain in the ass. You wanna' come along for the ride?" He seemed, however slightly, as though he would have strongly preferred she did join him. He was concerned - more than he would show, of course - about the girl in general, and further disturbed by the prospect of what she might come to if left on her own.
The intensity of that spear of doubt and the opposing wave of assurance in memory would not return, though things were still happening.
In the back of her mind, as a nagging thought which peaked more at interested musings than any strong emotion, it manifested without her will - but then, feelings and thoughts had a way of doing that.
It hearkened back to her earlier feelings of regret. It was the memory of that regret, seen from a vaguely dispassionate, almost clinical standpoint. Oh, it was still her emotion, but seen through a looking glass.
She would remain functional as the dialogue unfolded. It was in the back of her head, always there but unobtrusive. She would remain functional so long as she truly desired to do so.
There were words that were not words - a voice that was not a voice - thoughts that were spawned from her own mind and yet were foreign and strange. No text, no sound, no words spoken or conceived - an idea, half-formed at the edge of consciousness in the place between wakefulness and forgotten dreams.
R̕ͅ ̛̞͕E̵̤̼ ̫͔̖̫͈͘G ̦̦̥͔͕̰͙Ṛ͕͇̮̠ ͎E̴ T̴̝̫̱̜̖̩ is...a ter͕̤̮̼͟ͅrible t ̧h͞ i͝ n ǵ, isn't it? It/she/nobody said/thought/conceived/forgot/dreamed.
But I̛͡/̸̸́we/̡̕y̵̴͡ó͠͞u͟҉ should take it E͚̘̺̭ ̷̫Ą̱̻̩͖̗̖ ̡̙̲̥S̗ ͙̱̼̰̙̫̣͘Y̖̮.͏̻̟̮.̱̻.
Al͝l͠ thin͠g͞s will come in T̻̯͉͎̠̗ ̗̞̹̤̳͖̦I̪ ̥́M͓ E.̤̜
Yo̢u̢/̨w͝e̛/̶̷̀I/͝͏t̡h̛͘͝e҉̶ý/͘ever̴͠y͟b̢̢͝òdy͞/̷̨͟Ŷ̸ͣ̂̃̚͏̖͕̖͍̭ ̵̠̣̻̜̘͚̫̥̪ͬ̿͛O̧̢̭ͦͯ̌ͬͭ̈̏͑͜ ̡́͂͏̸̼̫̖̗̖U̵͋͛̄͛̅ͩ̓̌ͅ awoke for a R ͏E͟ A͡ S ͝O̶ N and R̯̜̮̜ͅ ̪̜͙ͅE̱ ͍̠̗G̴̟ R̡ ̘͘E̙̩̥͚͙͖̩ ̲̣͜Ţ̬̣̯ comes to those who S̕ ͏H̛ ͟I͘ ̡R̷ K ͠tḩeir ͜Ŗ ̕E S̶ ͡P͞ ̧O ͘N̕ I̢ B I L I̢ ҉T̨ ͠I ̴E̴ ̨S.̸
Y̛͠o͢͢uIW̷͞eT͢h͏̴ey͞ should be H͙̺ͅͅ ̷̲̠͍̪͚͉E͓̠̺̠̺̟͕͟ ̙L̲ ̺̻̫̤̟P̗̯͈͈ ̛̮̩̯̗I̴ ̙̱̥̱͙͎̠N̖̯̪̥̳̦͈ ̫̩̤G̩̲̠̯̞ . . .
.̷..͟.̴.͡..w͏ìth͏.̀....͝.
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A R D E L L A – Abandoned Imperial Bunker
They were safe, at least temporarily, from the onslaught of soldiers and combusting plasma-birds. Iri-L was an excellent shield - she and her hunk of bunker could take a lot more plasma and high-impact bullets than anyone else in the group. Though, curiously, nobody had actually opened fire yet.
So they ran.
Throughout the bunker, the soldiers in black were just now realizing that they had been shooting at phantoms - images created by the powerful beings centralized at the operation. The robot birds were having a harder time with this, and continued to occasionally fly into walls or drop onto the floor to release their plasma payload onto unfortunate bunker-bits.
The real threat had become apparent with the great, bellowing roar that shook the sturdy walls and the very floor itself. The soldiers rushed to their demise just like any good war-machine would dictate. Even the birds eventually managed to get it through their simple, robotic brains to switch targets, as the phantoms faded into oblivion. They converged on the beast, and opened fire on sight.
Dozens would be immediately slaughtered with a single sweep of the great creature's terrible appendage, or perhaps some hidden weapon beneath the ebony fur. The birds pummeled it from both sides, some even proving clever enough to try and fly into the monster's gaping maw. The soldiers came from both sides too, using the creature's size against it - it couldn’t be facing both directions at once, right?
Regardless, no matter how much damage they did manage to do to it, the casualties would be immense. The narrow hallways were a meat grinder, chunks of gore and streaming trails of viscera speckled with the white of shattered bone and the black of armor shredded as finely as the decimated flesh. It was not going to be long battle, one way or another. IT was numbers versus size - the only real advantage on the soldiers' side being the seemingly limitless supply of birds.
But the were completing their mission even as they sprinted to the slaughter - they were keeping the monster away from their real target.
A new variety of robot bird began to join the fray now - larger, darker grey things that - that's right - shot lasers from guns mounted within their beaks. Their talons were razor rakes that, if they could get close enough, would tear mercilessly at the matted fur and increasingly damaged flesh of the monster. They were, to say the least, tacky, obtuse, impractical, bizarre and...tacky.
At a distance ever-increasing from the bloodbath, soldiers still pursued the fugitive K-Team. They shouted to halt and submit to...something or other. The blaring alarm made it difficult to hear anything more than a few feet away.
But Royanna Kallenger had honed such senses to finer than a wine enthusiast's palette...And still she did not hear exactly what they were saying. She didn't care. All she cared about was the barely audible words that she couldn't believe she was hearing uttered from her canine companion.
Two more plasma birds on Iril's shield distracted the woman for the necessary seconds. By the time she realized that Christofer had taken to bounding the other way, and connected the fact that he actually meant what he was saying it was too late - he was already well down the hall.
Kallenger skidded to a halt, stopping so abruptly as to be nearly knocked down by Iril's still fleeing body. The woman was not feeling well. Her innards felt like churning fire, her veins like ice - her mind was static and buzzing and her eyes were hyper-focused - and she was MAD.
"Keep moving! Hold down the fort as close to this position as you can! We'll be back in a minute!" She half-screamed to Iril and Cox as she doubled back in the direction that Christofer had gone fleeing. She was a mess, but currently not stupid enough to go saying 'go on without me'. Not while 47 was here.
In Christofer's hazy vision, the figure of a soldier in black would come into view. He intended to attack, to latch on, anything - but just as he was about to make the leap, the black helmet burst from within itself into a thousand fragments of carbon death and pinkish face slime. The body fell over instantly - and something slammed into Christofer from behind with the force of a professional quarterback. He'd be knocked clean to the ground and pinned there by the weight of another body. Shots barked out in the immediate vicinity. Tiny, harmless, but still slightly painful spatters of plasma showered the two of them. No damage in such quantity, but it would burn for some seconds yet. There was another gunshot, and screeching metal as it went clattering to the floor in a heap.
Then, Christofer was being rolled over onto his back, but the person was not letting him get up. Royanna grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shook him violently. She looked furious, and more wounded than she had been - coincidentally, something had carved into her face right where the two scratches had been earlier. There would definitely be scars now. Her face was a mess of blood and sweat, with black hair plastered to her forehead and eyes that were wide, and as intense as anyone had ever seen them. And, there was something else about them too...
"What the @#$% are you DOING you @#$%ing sack of @#$%!!" It was not a question. Her breaths were heaving and harsh, eyes wild and almost insane with fury and intensity. "You wanna’ @#$%ing die, IS THAT IT?! You wanna’ be some kind of MARTYR or some @#$%?! Everything I've done to keep you safe and it still ain't good enough huh? @#$% you, dammit! You're all I have left, do you understand that?! I am NOT going to let either one of us die! Especially not YOU, no matter WHAT!!" The other strange thing about her eyes suddenly became apparent - they were welled with tears, that mingled with the blood and sweat and dripped onto Cristofer's face. The woman was crying - weeping openly, in what was clearly the most intense of any emotion she had exhibited so far. Eyes wide and peircing biting with the sort of feelings that she wouldn't have had the words for if she tried. Unspeakable pain, desperation, terror, wrapped up in fury and rage and anguish.
"If you EVER pull this kind of !#@$ again I'LL FINISHTHEJOBMYSELF! Do you understand!?" She had been shaking him violently against the floor with every word for emphasis - but just at the end he would feel the unmistakable sensation of the barrel of a gun pressing into the fleshy underside of his jaw. It pressed up hard - probably it would leave a bruise, but that was least of anyone's concerns now.
The gun only came away when she lifted it up to blast away another soldier unlucky enough to round the corner. HE fell, and she stood, dragging Christofer up with her.
"Now come on you sonofab*tch! We're leaving!"
And, leaving behind a small wasteland of black armored bodies, Royanna would clamp her hand around Christofer's wrist and drag him with all force necessary to the safety of Iril's shield and Cox's backup, and ideally to the surface, and to real safety. She didn't care what it took - if it took every last milijoule of energy in her body she would drag him with her to safety.
EARTH IV – Earth City
Hiram took one last deep, succulent drag off the fat cigar hanging between his lips. The folds of fat over his heavy brow creased in concentration and determination. In his stubby, sausage-link fingers he gripped the shotgun, hefting it in his hands as if to emphasize to the door he was facing that it was, in fact, a real, solid weapon. The look in his small, but piercing eyes told the door that he was quite prepared to use it.He was a very fat man, but it made him no less intimidating, partly due to his impressive height. He was an old man - head bald but for a band of short, silvery white hair around the back of his head from the temples. Yet neither did his age detract from the presence of the man, who stood like a solid rock giant among men and glared down those who opposed him with pale blue eyes as gentle, and vicious, and unforgetting as a wild elephant.
He wore an apocalyptic parody of his old attire. Soft leather shoes had been replaced with sturdy combat boots. Navy blue trousers were still present, but thin panels of carbon-steel had been stitched into the fabric to create an armored figure, and a collection of pouches hanging from a black nylon belt substituted his old leather one with the gold buckle. His baby blue collared shirt and red tie were gone and replaced with a dirty - though not soiled - white T shirt. His jacket was still there though - similarly stitched with armor plating, and with both sleeves torn off. His arms, great, beefy trunks of muscle, belied his obesity. A bandolier holding spare shells and a few high explosives was slung snugly over his shoulder. A red bandanna was tied like a symbol around his left bicep. His wrists held a beaten old communicator and a small, but potent wrist-mounted laser. The little pin of the old Earth City flag was still on the chest of his now armored navy blue suit jacket.
"Ready boys?" He growled, teeth forming a grin clamped around the cigar, which smoked lazily in the dark, dingy atmosphere of the basement hallway.
"Let's teach 'em a lesson, Boss."
The two men standing behind Hiram were dressed in black combat armor, with matching visored helmets that exposed only the lower halves of their faces. The armor might have been a matching set at one point, but damage and wear had changed that. One was missing one sleeve, exposing well muscled, ebony skin. Both men had matching red bandannas tied around their left arms, and the ebony-skinned man's inconspicuous tattoo of the number '13' on his left bicep was only partially obscured.
The other man, slightly shorter, had done some repairs to his armor - substituting coppery metal plates where the old carbon had been lost. Some small metal brackets partially obscured his vision where repairs to hold together the cracked glass of his visor had been made. Scrawled along the side of his helmet in what might have been red paint were the words
"4 MY SCORE"
Painted on both mens' breastplates was the blue sphere and red burst, and acronym ECLF - the Earth City Liberation Front.
Both men carried advanced looking matte-black assault rifles, though the dark skinned man's had a longer barrel, and seemed to have been partially converted to serve as a sniper rifle or assault weapon alternately.
"Let's do this." Hiram growled, and kicked open the door.
The occupants scattered immediately. A dark, musty basement with card tables and folding chairs flipping over as scrawny drug-heads and gang-bangers scrambled to escape, or to assume a fighting stance.
There was the click click of the shotgun, and the THUMBOOM!! as a shell spewed deadly, white-hot buckshot into the face of a man who was charging with a switchblade.
Hiram stepped forward, pumping the old weapon and laying waste with systematic precision to anyone unable to reach cover in time. As he moved, the armored men appeared behind him from the doorway with rifles raised. The chatter of bullets fired at incredible rates overwhelmed the shotgun's low thumping. Chipped paint from the whitewashed walls, bits of concrete from the filthy floor, scraps of wood and metal from tables and chairs and musty old sofas, the blood of the downed gangsters as it spattered carelessly, as the bullets fell down indiscriminately upon them. They tried to fire back with their own meager arms, but it was useless.
Within seconds, anyone who had not immediately fled through the back door was gurgling crimson and leaking bodily viscera onto the pocked floor to mingle with white powders and dirty syringes.
Small eyes narrowed and scanned the silence of the room and locked onto the safe embedded in the wall behind the makeshift kitchen serving as a meth lab. He idly, one-handedly blew the skull of one still possibly living gangbanger into minute splintering fragments and leaky innards as he walked by. He raised the gun and blasted the lock off the safe, proceeding to rummage about inside and take a small stack of papers from within. Puffing the cigar, eyes flicked over the words for some seconds. At last his grimace turned to a wide, toothy grin, chewing on the cigar as he nodded to his men.
They proceeded back to street-level, where an ashen dusk was falling over the streets of Earth City. Having slipped the papers into his jacket, Hiram idly reloaded the shells as he and the two armored men strolled down the sidewalk, mostly abandoned now. Looking momentarily to thee south, he could see the edge of the park. Just beyond, a small spacecraft was taking off, glowing brightly in the dusky light as it ascended. A converted civilian craft, Hiram guessed. It had to be armed.
A similarly civilian-converted groundcar was waiting for them at the end of the street. The three men squeezed into the back of the makeshift tank, an old hydrogen-powered SUV with thick metal plates bolted all over the chassis.
The streets had not been a warzone since General Sanders' sacrifice at the docks, when then city had been illuminated with a second sun and incredible death tolls had battered at the population. His final act of defiance had quelled the vast majority of the rebellion against the new Kampferian occupation, but scattered resistance had still remained.
Hiram's Earth City Liberation Front had started out as one such rebel group, but it had become apparent over the weeks that the real enemy was not the Kampferian military police - but the anarchists plaguing the city from within, causing trouble everywhere they could for no apparent reason.. There was also the matter of the corrupted Kampferian officers who had made deals with local gangs to push powder and keep the conflicts kindled all in the pursuit of power and money. Once the MP realized that the ECLF was more interested in having a common enemy than a three-way war, the factions had left each other largely alone, with Kampferian soldiers turning a blind eye to ECLF raids on local drug dens.
But Hiram was looking for bigger fish now. The situation in Earth City was finally stabilizing, and most of the corrupt Kampferian operations had been rooted out. The Front had turned into a formidable army after the raids on Kampferian arms depots that had been framed as corrupt Kampferian smuggling - and that army was at Hiram's command, so long as there was something to fight for. Earth IV didn't need them any more - bigger fish.
And now Hiram had finally found what he needed - because to catch bigger fish, he was going to need a bigger boat. One of the corrupted Kampferian officials had smuggled himself away the plans for a prototype battle cruiser which would make whoever was in control of it more than a formidable force to be reckoned with. More importantly, the documents included the location of the cruiser - it was being constructed in an underwater base situated nearby a small, subarctic island to the north.
Hiram grinned to himself, as the driver took the armored SUV down the streets littered with wrecked cars and strewn with the remnants of debris left over from the initial occupation. Soon, there would be an exodus of the ECLF 'militia' from Earth City. As soon as he returned to the base, he would inform the men, and begin making plans for a full covert assault with his cabinet. From Earth, to the stars....to Kampfer.
NOTSPACE
THE KINGSBANE
A glorious atmosphere rose around the Bridge. Officers started to draw confident smirks, with their eyes tightly locked on the forthcoming unknown vessel. All of them would bear a stare showing ultimate desire to blow that one enemy into cosmic dust. Those were the bloodthirsty beings inside that artillery cruiser, Wanheed's most trusted men. What about the others? Frightened by a rogue Captain that was slowly descending into madness for an impossible dream. What about the heat sensors and radars screens twisting into the darkest shade of blue, one they only knew it existed in complete absence of heat? All of this not mentioning Her death. Her murder. Wanheed had separated an innocent youth in half, in no more than a fourth of a second. Naturally. The Captain had chopped That Girl in half with visible joy. The same experience while casting doom upon the ones who defy his unquestionable authority and his beloved Kingsbane. Needless to say that an old man, focusing his concealed stare on a blank screen as well, counted as one of those hesitant to fight. At least, for glory.
Time would pass before the arrival of the Dendril, no matter how fast the numerous insectoid squads would charge, nor how much uranium and plutonium altogether the artillery cruiser burned inside its engines, time was enough for Severin to take a glimpse on the fading image of Isandril...
He wanted, he struggled to do it but, in the end, Severin found impossible to bring himself to ask about his own expectations. What did he wanted to see? Isandril and its timeless city springing back to life after The Shadow and his Dendril amalgamates onslaught? With each passing mile unto battle, Severin would see more and more dust collect on those uncharted lost ruins. With Wan Nabes' every step into the death's dance, harder it was for Severin to look to the planet, soon getting out of any camera's zooming capabilities. Eventually, Isandril shrunk into single speck of rust until it was no more visible. It gave its last breath before getting engulfed in the total darkness of Notspace.
And then, almost as if he had no control of his will...
— Was that Your home? — Severin asked. He whispered a question, albeit, to himself.
At that same instant, a short string of text data was sent towards his goggles. Naturally, Severin immediately thought about a possible breakthrough from research pertaining Notspace, but all that he saw was a single sentence. Unlike it always happened on such reports, no seemingly-infinite stream of data started to scroll through his computerized goggles, but only for a single sentence, unusually printed in cyan.
From: USER_ADMIN_ADMIN
To: USER_BASEVERIN
Title: ALIVE
— Wait, what? How can you understand me? I'm not even speaking. I'm scared. Help.
MESSAGE END
The words sunk deeply into the old man's head, throughouly reverberating in a certain familiar voice into his mind. What that could have possibly meant? It had sourced from INDRA, or The "Machine", but for what purpose? Severin couldn't exactly understand why the Computer would play a 'trick' like this, specially at a such time of dire need. The Kingsbane was eletronically blind in Notspace, rendering most guided weapons useless, so the Computer alone would have to 'manually' operate all defensive guns aboard to assure survivability of the crew. Every bit of its processors would switch to emotional processing as to visually identify incoming threats and deal with it accordingly. Yet, in the surge of its self-declared 'conscience' it had sent this message for the Astrophysicist.
"Wait, what?" Confusion was the first thing that Severin thought about. Was this an inner voice fabricated by the Supercomputer, in a exquisite manner to express itself to a human? One of the main features of the INDRA was to process and mimick emotions, but Severin didn't really believe that Computer could actually become self-aware... That meant this whole ordeal probably came from something else, probably akin to Notspace. But what?
"How can you understand me?" Now, that was interesting. Could it be that, after all these years, the Supercomputer have been struggling to understand human emotion? Its harmless tricks and attempts to solve algorithms through simulated human intelligence probably sucked the most of its processing power. Sentient intelligence came from a much more complex machine than eletronic computers: A brain, or nervous system.
"I'm not even speaking." This one was obvious, at that present moment, the INDRA could not synthesize its voice to express any sort of message, no matter how many distinct preprogrammed voices it had stored. While synthesizing was not a consuming task, adjust pitches and tones to mimick certain emotions probably was.
"I'm scared. Help." Never before INDRA had expressed fear or helplessnes. No matter what kind of virus it was infected with, no matter how damaged it was. Even though it had acquired conscience of its actions and words, the INDRA was programmed under strict directives of preservation of the environment and of itself. This AI lacked fear as one of its feelings, but it did acknowledge it from other beings. It knew when a living being were in a state of terror. It was aware that someone, Something needed urgent help. That's why the message was sent directly to Benedict Severin. Then he let out a long gasp.
INDRA saw it all. The time when She came in to the moment She was divided in two pieces by the dreaded Cutlass.
— ... Alive. I knew it.
But what about the crew? Were they even alive at that moment? Did Wanheed Nabil's crusade against an invincible enemy was merely a tale, fabricated by his men dying moments? Right after an attack of The Shadow that they didn't even seen coming? Even the Stella Viventium had vanished into Notspace at that point.
Wan Nabes, alongside all of his crew, found themselves in the nihilistic vision of Death. Even though that artillery cruiser carried 3450 live men inside, all of them would think and feel as a single being. As this "Idea", this "Kingsbane Thing".
And did The Kingsbane felt alone...
For what felt like an eternity, the only thing heard inside the artillery cruiser were either the roar of its nuclear engines or from huge shells still being loaded into the most powerful guns aboard. Even though the Captain was sat silent on his command chair, the furious frown that he wore was reminescent to the violent thunders of a merciless sea storm. As the distance between his ship and the unknown vessel narrowed, that gray stain in Notspace soon started to reveal its true form.
— C'mon, you 'sonnuva <*****>... — Gradually, the frown on Wan's face revealed his heavily gritted teeth as he let out a low grunt. However, for Severin, who was the one most next to Wan Nabes, it felt like a imcomprehensible snarl of an angry wild hound. — Accelerate... Come to daddy...
At first, four more objects, seemingly dislodged from the unknown vessel were revealed. Probable extensions of the enemy. Then, out of nowhere, numerous dots emerged from the supposed flagship surroundings. Buzzing chaotically around it, they were the first to actually gain a identifiable form... Then it finally struck Wan's head.
— Multiple assault squadrons-- <****>! --At a thousand kilometers! All available troops, mobilize to every <*******> boarding spots ASAP!
The Dendril were the first to arrive.
Clad in head to toes with the most expensive exosuits that the Captain could buy, separate groups of soldiers, either guards loyal to the Captain or hired mercenaries, rushed to their designed spots. External cargo, engines, broadsides. All while the Supercomputer bypassed any need of advanced sensors or radars. INDRA took direct control of all point defense measures across the Kingsbane's length. Arrays of vulcan and laser cannons came to life, simultaneously, all locking tightly on the insectoid squads.
— LIGHT 'EM UP!!!
Wan Nabes couldn't even finish before the buzz-sawing roars of over 60 miniguns firing at unison started to reverberate inside the Kingsbane. The Dendril would only see flickeringcrimson flashes as .50mm unbeing were brought upon them, at 8,000 rounds per minute from over five hundred kilometers. While incoming bullets could be, somehow, predicted and evaded amidst battle, the many laser arrays, totalizing at 30 turrets, would prove to be almost impossible for the insectoids to ever think about evading them, not to mention that the superheated beams would be invisible. With a Supercomputer taking automatic control with precision never seen before, firing as much as it could at them, it wouldn't take too long for the Dendril to be, either reduced to swiss or molten cheese.
... That is... If ballistic and particle physics even worked properly in Notspace.
The whole crew held their breaths, praying to all their saints for the Dendril to be fend off in the first wave. Gunners saw themselves on the worst. They had weapons, but what would multiple planet-busting cannons would do against measly tiny targets such as fighters?
Other posts coming today, I swear it.
THE KINGSBANE
A glorious atmosphere rose around the Bridge. Officers started to draw confident smirks, with their eyes tightly locked on the forthcoming unknown vessel. All of them would bear a stare showing ultimate desire to blow that one enemy into cosmic dust. Those were the bloodthirsty beings inside that artillery cruiser, Wanheed's most trusted men. What about the others? Frightened by a rogue Captain that was slowly descending into madness for an impossible dream. What about the heat sensors and radars screens twisting into the darkest shade of blue, one they only knew it existed in complete absence of heat? All of this not mentioning Her death. Her murder. Wanheed had separated an innocent youth in half, in no more than a fourth of a second. Naturally. The Captain had chopped That Girl in half with visible joy. The same experience while casting doom upon the ones who defy his unquestionable authority and his beloved Kingsbane. Needless to say that an old man, focusing his concealed stare on a blank screen as well, counted as one of those hesitant to fight. At least, for glory.
Time would pass before the arrival of the Dendril, no matter how fast the numerous insectoid squads would charge, nor how much uranium and plutonium altogether the artillery cruiser burned inside its engines, time was enough for Severin to take a glimpse on the fading image of Isandril...
He wanted, he struggled to do it but, in the end, Severin found impossible to bring himself to ask about his own expectations. What did he wanted to see? Isandril and its timeless city springing back to life after The Shadow and his Dendril amalgamates onslaught? With each passing mile unto battle, Severin would see more and more dust collect on those uncharted lost ruins. With Wan Nabes' every step into the death's dance, harder it was for Severin to look to the planet, soon getting out of any camera's zooming capabilities. Eventually, Isandril shrunk into single speck of rust until it was no more visible. It gave its last breath before getting engulfed in the total darkness of Notspace.
And then, almost as if he had no control of his will...
— Was that Your home? — Severin asked. He whispered a question, albeit, to himself.
At that same instant, a short string of text data was sent towards his goggles. Naturally, Severin immediately thought about a possible breakthrough from research pertaining Notspace, but all that he saw was a single sentence. Unlike it always happened on such reports, no seemingly-infinite stream of data started to scroll through his computerized goggles, but only for a single sentence, unusually printed in cyan.
From: USER_ADMIN_ADMIN
To: USER_BASEVERIN
Title: ALIVE
— Wait, what? How can you understand me? I'm not even speaking. I'm scared. Help.
MESSAGE END
The words sunk deeply into the old man's head, throughouly reverberating in a certain familiar voice into his mind. What that could have possibly meant? It had sourced from INDRA, or The "Machine", but for what purpose? Severin couldn't exactly understand why the Computer would play a 'trick' like this, specially at a such time of dire need. The Kingsbane was eletronically blind in Notspace, rendering most guided weapons useless, so the Computer alone would have to 'manually' operate all defensive guns aboard to assure survivability of the crew. Every bit of its processors would switch to emotional processing as to visually identify incoming threats and deal with it accordingly. Yet, in the surge of its self-declared 'conscience' it had sent this message for the Astrophysicist.
"Wait, what?" Confusion was the first thing that Severin thought about. Was this an inner voice fabricated by the Supercomputer, in a exquisite manner to express itself to a human? One of the main features of the INDRA was to process and mimick emotions, but Severin didn't really believe that Computer could actually become self-aware... That meant this whole ordeal probably came from something else, probably akin to Notspace. But what?
"How can you understand me?" Now, that was interesting. Could it be that, after all these years, the Supercomputer have been struggling to understand human emotion? Its harmless tricks and attempts to solve algorithms through simulated human intelligence probably sucked the most of its processing power. Sentient intelligence came from a much more complex machine than eletronic computers: A brain, or nervous system.
"I'm not even speaking." This one was obvious, at that present moment, the INDRA could not synthesize its voice to express any sort of message, no matter how many distinct preprogrammed voices it had stored. While synthesizing was not a consuming task, adjust pitches and tones to mimick certain emotions probably was.
"I'm scared. Help." Never before INDRA had expressed fear or helplessnes. No matter what kind of virus it was infected with, no matter how damaged it was. Even though it had acquired conscience of its actions and words, the INDRA was programmed under strict directives of preservation of the environment and of itself. This AI lacked fear as one of its feelings, but it did acknowledge it from other beings. It knew when a living being were in a state of terror. It was aware that someone, Something needed urgent help. That's why the message was sent directly to Benedict Severin. Then he let out a long gasp.
INDRA saw it all. The time when She came in to the moment She was divided in two pieces by the dreaded Cutlass.
— ... Alive. I knew it.
But what about the crew? Were they even alive at that moment? Did Wanheed Nabil's crusade against an invincible enemy was merely a tale, fabricated by his men dying moments? Right after an attack of The Shadow that they didn't even seen coming? Even the Stella Viventium had vanished into Notspace at that point.
Wan Nabes, alongside all of his crew, found themselves in the nihilistic vision of Death. Even though that artillery cruiser carried 3450 live men inside, all of them would think and feel as a single being. As this "Idea", this "Kingsbane Thing".
And did The Kingsbane felt alone...
For what felt like an eternity, the only thing heard inside the artillery cruiser were either the roar of its nuclear engines or from huge shells still being loaded into the most powerful guns aboard. Even though the Captain was sat silent on his command chair, the furious frown that he wore was reminescent to the violent thunders of a merciless sea storm. As the distance between his ship and the unknown vessel narrowed, that gray stain in Notspace soon started to reveal its true form.
— C'mon, you 'sonnuva <*****>... — Gradually, the frown on Wan's face revealed his heavily gritted teeth as he let out a low grunt. However, for Severin, who was the one most next to Wan Nabes, it felt like a imcomprehensible snarl of an angry wild hound. — Accelerate... Come to daddy...
At first, four more objects, seemingly dislodged from the unknown vessel were revealed. Probable extensions of the enemy. Then, out of nowhere, numerous dots emerged from the supposed flagship surroundings. Buzzing chaotically around it, they were the first to actually gain a identifiable form... Then it finally struck Wan's head.
— Multiple assault squadrons-- <****>! --At a thousand kilometers! All available troops, mobilize to every <*******> boarding spots ASAP!
The Dendril were the first to arrive.
Clad in head to toes with the most expensive exosuits that the Captain could buy, separate groups of soldiers, either guards loyal to the Captain or hired mercenaries, rushed to their designed spots. External cargo, engines, broadsides. All while the Supercomputer bypassed any need of advanced sensors or radars. INDRA took direct control of all point defense measures across the Kingsbane's length. Arrays of vulcan and laser cannons came to life, simultaneously, all locking tightly on the insectoid squads.
— LIGHT 'EM UP!!!
Wan Nabes couldn't even finish before the buzz-sawing roars of over 60 miniguns firing at unison started to reverberate inside the Kingsbane. The Dendril would only see flickeringcrimson flashes as .50mm unbeing were brought upon them, at 8,000 rounds per minute from over five hundred kilometers. While incoming bullets could be, somehow, predicted and evaded amidst battle, the many laser arrays, totalizing at 30 turrets, would prove to be almost impossible for the insectoids to ever think about evading them, not to mention that the superheated beams would be invisible. With a Supercomputer taking automatic control with precision never seen before, firing as much as it could at them, it wouldn't take too long for the Dendril to be, either reduced to swiss or molten cheese.
... That is... If ballistic and particle physics even worked properly in Notspace.
The whole crew held their breaths, praying to all their saints for the Dendril to be fend off in the first wave. Gunners saw themselves on the worst. They had weapons, but what would multiple planet-busting cannons would do against measly tiny targets such as fighters?
Other posts coming today, I swear it.
Nasser Station, Daedalus high orbit
Rin muttered incoherently, breath hitching as he was squeezed into and through the crowd of people in what looked like the space station. God, he couldn't handle people. All over his personal space, making him stupidly anxious and really, really uncomfortable...
... Not that he had a choice.
Just his luck that the hyperdrive overloaded. Granted, he was in a bit of a hurry when he typed up the coordinates, but CAN YOU BLAME HIM. NO. Blame the stupid ship that just couldn't take a hint and STOP SHOOTING, because BATTLE OVER, HELLO, YOU LOST, but NO it just kept shooting at him and he was literally ONE MILLISECOND AWAY from crashing unto the planet and it REALLY DIDN'T HELP HIM when that stupid ship grazed the engine of his ship when he activated the hyperjump-
But of COURSE he made the amateur mistake and miscalculated how far the hyperdrive would take him. And now he needed new parts to replace the smoking ones.
Wonderful.
... Hopefully he could barter for parts if his money didn't work, because he was pretty sure that his miscalculation pretty much landed him unto an entirely different galaxy. Maybe.
Hopefully not.
He sighed, then flinched as he was jostled forward by an uncaring passerby. "Idiot," he whispered, glaring at the person's back. Shaking his head, he turned- and blinked. A humanoid stood in front of the stall they manned, yelling something about prism stones. Well, no use in stalling around, he thought to himself, grimacing. Summoning all of the social ability he could muster, he stiffly approched the salesman. "Do you know where I can look for hyperdrive parts?" he asked, eyes narrowed and arms crossed defensively.
Rin muttered incoherently, breath hitching as he was squeezed into and through the crowd of people in what looked like the space station. God, he couldn't handle people. All over his personal space, making him stupidly anxious and really, really uncomfortable...
... Not that he had a choice.
Just his luck that the hyperdrive overloaded. Granted, he was in a bit of a hurry when he typed up the coordinates, but CAN YOU BLAME HIM. NO. Blame the stupid ship that just couldn't take a hint and STOP SHOOTING, because BATTLE OVER, HELLO, YOU LOST, but NO it just kept shooting at him and he was literally ONE MILLISECOND AWAY from crashing unto the planet and it REALLY DIDN'T HELP HIM when that stupid ship grazed the engine of his ship when he activated the hyperjump-
But of COURSE he made the amateur mistake and miscalculated how far the hyperdrive would take him. And now he needed new parts to replace the smoking ones.
Wonderful.
... Hopefully he could barter for parts if his money didn't work, because he was pretty sure that his miscalculation pretty much landed him unto an entirely different galaxy. Maybe.
Hopefully not.
He sighed, then flinched as he was jostled forward by an uncaring passerby. "Idiot," he whispered, glaring at the person's back. Shaking his head, he turned- and blinked. A humanoid stood in front of the stall they manned, yelling something about prism stones. Well, no use in stalling around, he thought to himself, grimacing. Summoning all of the social ability he could muster, he stiffly approched the salesman. "Do you know where I can look for hyperdrive parts?" he asked, eyes narrowed and arms crossed defensively.
Nasser Station, Daedalus high orbit
Laurent leaned on his stall, with his ridiculous grin on his face. Not only was he happy that someone came up to him, but also because of his pretty damn good hearing, he heard his orphans that he entertain earlier were all rounded up and arrested for various petty crimes. He snickered a little as he straightens up and bends down and looks at the boy asking for hyperdrives. He tossed a prism stone between Rin's feet, in which the stone shined bright green to at least throw him off his defensive stance. "Sssssooooo you are looking for a hyperdrive? Well you have come to the right place" as his creepy grin was still on his face. He goes behind his caravan, he soon comes around with a hover trolley that carries a rather large hyperdrive for a decent size ship.
"Here we are one hyperdrive, for you" he states as he gesture towards it like a typical salesperson. "If it's not to your liking than I do have a few more" he adds as looks at his finger nails and getting the dirt out of it. The hyperdrive itself is a nice one, but if one closely inspects and has some knowledge ain engineering one could tell that this hyperdrive and others have been almost literally ripped out of a ship it was previously on. "And for the low price of this bad boy, is 5,000 credits, the cheapest for a relatively new drive....so what do you say?" he says as he goes a little closer to him to hear what he says.
Laurent leaned on his stall, with his ridiculous grin on his face. Not only was he happy that someone came up to him, but also because of his pretty damn good hearing, he heard his orphans that he entertain earlier were all rounded up and arrested for various petty crimes. He snickered a little as he straightens up and bends down and looks at the boy asking for hyperdrives. He tossed a prism stone between Rin's feet, in which the stone shined bright green to at least throw him off his defensive stance. "Sssssooooo you are looking for a hyperdrive? Well you have come to the right place" as his creepy grin was still on his face. He goes behind his caravan, he soon comes around with a hover trolley that carries a rather large hyperdrive for a decent size ship.
"Here we are one hyperdrive, for you" he states as he gesture towards it like a typical salesperson. "If it's not to your liking than I do have a few more" he adds as looks at his finger nails and getting the dirt out of it. The hyperdrive itself is a nice one, but if one closely inspects and has some knowledge ain engineering one could tell that this hyperdrive and others have been almost literally ripped out of a ship it was previously on. "And for the low price of this bad boy, is 5,000 credits, the cheapest for a relatively new drive....so what do you say?" he says as he goes a little closer to him to hear what he says.
Nasser Station, Daedalus high orbit
Rin flinched, pupils abruptly slitting at the unwelcome unexpected light show. Why would the salesman DO that?
Jerk.
He walked tensely around the trolley, scanning the hyperdrive part. It looked decent, except... he grimaced. "I don't even want to know what happened to this." Ugh. Looks like he'd have to interact with even more people if this guy turned out to be a sham.
Don't get him wrong. He could, probably fix it up a bit to get it to acceptable working conditions, but it would take too long and honestly, can he just GO HOME? ... Not that the base was his actual home but CLOSE ENOUGH.
So. Yeah. And this guy was creeping him out. And flaunting his height. Jerk.
"Is all of your parts scavenged by people who doesn't even know how to properly take them out in working condition?" he asked, audibly annoyed.
Rin flinched, pupils abruptly slitting at the unwelcome unexpected light show. Why would the salesman DO that?
Jerk.
He walked tensely around the trolley, scanning the hyperdrive part. It looked decent, except... he grimaced. "I don't even want to know what happened to this." Ugh. Looks like he'd have to interact with even more people if this guy turned out to be a sham.
Don't get him wrong. He could, probably fix it up a bit to get it to acceptable working conditions, but it would take too long and honestly, can he just GO HOME? ... Not that the base was his actual home but CLOSE ENOUGH.
So. Yeah. And this guy was creeping him out. And flaunting his height. Jerk.
"Is all of your parts scavenged by people who doesn't even know how to properly take them out in working condition?" he asked, audibly annoyed.
Laurent grumbled seeing that now he has to interact with a boy who knows what he is looking at. His face not so cheery but much more annoyed as Rin is. "Alright wise guy, if you must know, I am the one who scavenged this and it works well. For getting Laurent in his little scheme, he decides to throw another prism stone by Rin, shining blue now, just to get the boy worked up as he was. "If you don't believe me that it doesn't work, here test it yourself" he adds as he passes him a little device that tests power output for various electronics and if Rin decides to use it, he would find that even though gutted from wince it came, it was still in working order. "The price is still 5,000 credits, you go to anyone here, they'll be charging much more for used and new...talking triple digits here and a good new module of a hyperdrive goes up to at least a million" he explains with his arms crossed as well.
Laurent was definitely banking on the boy's pocket in which how large it is. Based on what he con only define as scarps put together well for the boys armor and his apparent young age, he could safely assume the boy had little money to buy the higher end hyperdrives from more reputable dealers. Plus Laurent was sure that they would try to put the kid on some kind of payment plan in which he would struggle to pay no doubt. In the merchant's mind, he smiles evilly seeing that he holds the cards in this transaction if it goes well...
"Of course if you are unable to pay for 5,000 price tag....I'm willing to offer another deal for you since it seems you are quiet new to all this" he says as he pulls out a file and does his nails as he leans up against his stall, pretending not what happens to the boy nor what he says.
Laurent was definitely banking on the boy's pocket in which how large it is. Based on what he con only define as scarps put together well for the boys armor and his apparent young age, he could safely assume the boy had little money to buy the higher end hyperdrives from more reputable dealers. Plus Laurent was sure that they would try to put the kid on some kind of payment plan in which he would struggle to pay no doubt. In the merchant's mind, he smiles evilly seeing that he holds the cards in this transaction if it goes well...
"Of course if you are unable to pay for 5,000 price tag....I'm willing to offer another deal for you since it seems you are quiet new to all this" he says as he pulls out a file and does his nails as he leans up against his stall, pretending not what happens to the boy nor what he says.
Rin glared. He really didn't like those prism things. Jerk. The next time he does that he's going to throw it back at his stupid smirking face so hard he'd-
He blinked, staring at the little device placed in his hand. How was he supposed to test the hyperdrive? Wasn't he supposed to put it in a test craft and show him it works himself?
... What the heck even WAS it?
"... I don't know if my money would work with your system of currency," he said absently, still staring at the device and monumentally puzzled at how to work this stupid thing. He worked with ships, and weapons, not these... whatever these are. Stupid. The guy probably knew it too.
That jerk.
He blinked, staring at the little device placed in his hand. How was he supposed to test the hyperdrive? Wasn't he supposed to put it in a test craft and show him it works himself?
... What the heck even WAS it?
"... I don't know if my money would work with your system of currency," he said absently, still staring at the device and monumentally puzzled at how to work this stupid thing. He worked with ships, and weapons, not these... whatever these are. Stupid. The guy probably knew it too.
That jerk.
Laurent gave out big sigh and then approached him. He was getting annoyed that Rin had no idea to use that little power output device. He snatches the device away from Rin and walks around the hyperdrive and gestures him to come over at where he was. He points to a little slot within the hyperdriver itself and explains "By common galactic law, all hyper drives need to have this slot so that devices like these can work to test that anything isn't throwing too much power or too little power" and so he inserts the device and so the device ends up powering the hyperdrive a little and soon cuts itself off after a couple of seconds. Laurent reaches down and pulls the device out and hands it to him, with a specific number on it and the word APPROVED appeared letting the reader know that the hyperdrive is functional. "See it works" he states handing it too him if Rin was still suspicious of trickery.
"What can of money do you have? I accept all forms of cash, from lucerns, credits, gold, silver, platinum, Jagers, whatever I can do some pretty good conversions" he explains to him. Another one score in the bag for himself Laurent thought since no one will accept anything besides credits or whatever the credits where from the Galatia Empire here on the station.
"What can of money do you have? I accept all forms of cash, from lucerns, credits, gold, silver, platinum, Jagers, whatever I can do some pretty good conversions" he explains to him. Another one score in the bag for himself Laurent thought since no one will accept anything besides credits or whatever the credits where from the Galatia Empire here on the station.
The Lord of Love smiles at Yascra seeing that he's going to make another friend on this colossal ship once they rescued him form his little predicament. Caru got even more excited maybe he'll even make more friends as they saw this Doctor Yascra speaks of. Just thinking about got all excited and flustered a little. He was definitely glade to be back in the game once more. Hearing Yascra speak of death for his colleagues made the little Lord a bit sick to his stomach but in creating friendship, being knowledgeable with the other person is good step to a good relationship. "Hmmm, I'm sorry to report that you can't kill Lord Erica because of how important her position is as Lord of Time and Space and that's not me persuading you to not to kill her but because having time and space in some form of relative stability, her actual death will throw everything into disarray for many different universes and the end of everything as we know it, not only for mortal kind, but also the gods in there realm of existence and the demons....if you believe in that of course. So what I am trying to tell you is that she is immortal and cannot be slain because of her position. Plus killing Dimensional Lords is different case by case, but there are types of weapons to actually permanently kill lords, but they are usually considered Lord weapons like Lord Ova's rapier and guns are Lord weapons"
Caru took a breath before h continued because he knew this was going to be much, but he liked that Yascra is a good listener. "When it comes to killing Lords you have to ask yourself can you can kill the Lord of insert title here? Can you, for example kill the Lord of Love and compassion? Can't really kill Love because you have love inside you. Even though you don't like anyone, but you no doubt love your job and enjoy it very much...its your passion that you are proud of it. That involves the feelings of Love and Compassion, in which it indirectly involves me. So killing me would cause you to kill love and compassion itself" he explains as he still looks at him as they walk.
"I understand if you don't get it, its quiet the big subject" he says with a friendly smile on his face. "I met the man who created that book...he made it so that wars that involved his country can end. He doubt he intended it for people to use in war but to end a war really" he says still with his warm smile still on his face as he looks at Yascra and then in front of him to pay attention to whats in front of him as they go to rescue the Doc.
Caru took a breath before h continued because he knew this was going to be much, but he liked that Yascra is a good listener. "When it comes to killing Lords you have to ask yourself can you can kill the Lord of insert title here? Can you, for example kill the Lord of Love and compassion? Can't really kill Love because you have love inside you. Even though you don't like anyone, but you no doubt love your job and enjoy it very much...its your passion that you are proud of it. That involves the feelings of Love and Compassion, in which it indirectly involves me. So killing me would cause you to kill love and compassion itself" he explains as he still looks at him as they walk.
"I understand if you don't get it, its quiet the big subject" he says with a friendly smile on his face. "I met the man who created that book...he made it so that wars that involved his country can end. He doubt he intended it for people to use in war but to end a war really" he says still with his warm smile still on his face as he looks at Yascra and then in front of him to pay attention to whats in front of him as they go to rescue the Doc.
Nasser Station, Daedalus high orbit
Rin frowned down at the tiny device. Only power output? But what if the hyperdrive still didn't work? Sure, it could generate the power, but the mechanics? Would it actually be able to take a ship through a hyperspace window? How would this tiny thing let you know THAT?
He was so lost in thought that he nearly missed everything the man said, but he caught the gist of it- he can still attempt to pay for it using his money. He still had his doubts, but if what the creepy salesman said was true- and it would make sense, dangit- then he couldn't possible get a cheap hyperdrive in good condition that could be reworked and installed unto his ship.
And besides, he still had to find out if his currency would be accepted.
Grumbling inwardly, he took out several rectangular pieces polished to a black luster, the intricate silver cut of the partial border gleaming. "Astre," he responded, handing over the money and waiting to see how the man would take it.
Rin frowned down at the tiny device. Only power output? But what if the hyperdrive still didn't work? Sure, it could generate the power, but the mechanics? Would it actually be able to take a ship through a hyperspace window? How would this tiny thing let you know THAT?
He was so lost in thought that he nearly missed everything the man said, but he caught the gist of it- he can still attempt to pay for it using his money. He still had his doubts, but if what the creepy salesman said was true- and it would make sense, dangit- then he couldn't possible get a cheap hyperdrive in good condition that could be reworked and installed unto his ship.
And besides, he still had to find out if his currency would be accepted.
Grumbling inwardly, he took out several rectangular pieces polished to a black luster, the intricate silver cut of the partial border gleaming. "Astre," he responded, handing over the money and waiting to see how the man would take it.
Laurent took the Astre from Rin and hurried back to the his stall. He pulled out a weight measure, a personal computer, and a few other tools. He ran through the computer with Astre as he hummed to himself. He took a piece and placed them on a weight with a counter balance on the other side of the weight. After doing so much, he gestures the kid to come over as he turns the computer towards him and says "Alright, I did all things I needed to do for this stuff called Astre and you are when rounded at least have 1,800 credits. Obviously not enough for the hyperdrive, however, I have an offer for you in which includes the hyperdrive and would be able to make some serious bank, but first answer me a question before I make my offer" he looks at him and then asks "Who are you?"
A rather simple question but has a lot of implications for Laurent's offer.
A rather simple question but has a lot of implications for Laurent's offer.
Rin pursed his lips. He really didn't like this, but... according to the coordinates, he was very, very far away from his base. He desperately needed that hyperdrive.
... Besides... He didn't HAVE to say he came from the intergalactic military. He can give the bare minimum of who he is. Heck, he didn't have to even say what military system he came from- there were hundreds of that, and the man wouldn't know it was intergalactic if he didn't say anything about it. There probably WAS that kind of military around here, if his theory of landing in another unknown galaxy was correct, so really, he was doing the troublesome salesman a favor.
"... My name is Rin. Fighter pilot. Military," he said shortly, standing somewhat straighter. He crossed his arms, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "And who are you?"
... Besides... He didn't HAVE to say he came from the intergalactic military. He can give the bare minimum of who he is. Heck, he didn't have to even say what military system he came from- there were hundreds of that, and the man wouldn't know it was intergalactic if he didn't say anything about it. There probably WAS that kind of military around here, if his theory of landing in another unknown galaxy was correct, so really, he was doing the troublesome salesman a favor.
"... My name is Rin. Fighter pilot. Military," he said shortly, standing somewhat straighter. He crossed his arms, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "And who are you?"
"Oooo a military fighter pilot? Definitely not part of military outfit I know...why are you here looking to purchase a hyperdrive, well obviously your ship needs one, but why have not decide to make contact with your comrades? All communications here can reach to the other side of the galaxy if need be. Plus no doubt if you do a military code no doubt they would respond?" he pushes further questions onto the boy, not genuinely curious in why a military person is running through the peasantry market place for a simple hyperdrive. Laurent only asking since if Rin flies an actual single seat fighter, he would need to figure something else out.
"I am Laurent Montagne, at your service Rin" he greets himself as he takes off his hat and gives a nice gentlemen bow, his cat ear's twitching a little that now can be seen. He straightens up and puts his hat back on and says "Military fighter pilot, I assuming you fly a single seat fighter?" he decides to add another question into his other list of questions towards him. "Sorry for all these questions but I am trying to genuinely help you believe it or not" he says with his smile on his face as he leans forward on the counter waiting to hear his answers if he decides to answer.
"I am Laurent Montagne, at your service Rin" he greets himself as he takes off his hat and gives a nice gentlemen bow, his cat ear's twitching a little that now can be seen. He straightens up and puts his hat back on and says "Military fighter pilot, I assuming you fly a single seat fighter?" he decides to add another question into his other list of questions towards him. "Sorry for all these questions but I am trying to genuinely help you believe it or not" he says with his smile on his face as he leans forward on the counter waiting to hear his answers if he decides to answer.
"I tried," Rin said, grimacing. "But my communications are fried. If I wasn't near a planet with so much uncontained energy in its atmosphere I would have never jumped this far out of the known galactic system," he said, trying to cut down on questions by saying what he thought the man would ask next. "If I get a hyperdrive... Or several..." he muttered, seeing how his Eisan Generator was fried and it would take quite a while to fix up again, "I could make several jumps and not burn out a single hyperdrive in one jump. I would be sparing my comrades the inconvenience of being stranded in an unknown system."
... His comrades. Commander Wyr... Hopefully she was alright. And Vaxur- that idiot BETTER be okay.
Ugh.
He nodded stiffly as the salesma- Montagne bowed, eyes subtly following the points of his ears before they were hidden away by the hat. "My ship was a one-seater, but I modified it so it could seat two more," he replied, still unsure about the man but... It's not like he had a choice. "Why?"
... His comrades. Commander Wyr... Hopefully she was alright. And Vaxur- that idiot BETTER be okay.
Ugh.
He nodded stiffly as the salesma- Montagne bowed, eyes subtly following the points of his ears before they were hidden away by the hat. "My ship was a one-seater, but I modified it so it could seat two more," he replied, still unsure about the man but... It's not like he had a choice. "Why?"
Laurent smiled with gleem once he heard "Why?" he jumps over his stall and bends towards Rin and says "Because I'll be joining you, you are quiet new and strapped for cash, while need things to sell and be nice to stretch my legs a little" as he walks to the trolley. "Oh I almost forgot" as he throws a knife out of his sleeve hits his stall and collapses upon itself neatly with a little sign that pops up that says "Closed"
"Now...where's your ship, Rin" he says with excitement and eager to leave this station once this hyperdrive is installed. Laurent was confident that in Rin position he can't say no to his help since no will accept his currency and no one around will actually help him out. Laurent in his mind was glade with the cards he was dealt with.
"Now...where's your ship, Rin" he says with excitement and eager to leave this station once this hyperdrive is installed. Laurent was confident that in Rin position he can't say no to his help since no will accept his currency and no one around will actually help him out. Laurent in his mind was glade with the cards he was dealt with.
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