DeviousMe

The Lady Grey

Her tone became quite grave as she went on subsequent to a short pause, "Nowhere near in time. In fact, we came far, far too late, despite our efforts to cover the distance with all the haste we could muster. Those of Delta Team capable of flight made an attempt to take to the skies and catch the falling figure, but the thermals around the compound tower proved most hazardous to navigate, and caused such passage to take an nearly greater amount of time than those of us traversing the path on foot. Furthermore, the superstructure of the compound tower stood between the end of the causeway that was our path and the falling individual, and we lost sight of him before he struck the ground. The slim hope this gave rise to, however, soon sat crushed as we at last rounded the composite structure to find both Kerat and Detective Thermoplast upon the platform surrounding the tower base."

"Truly, it was a gruesome sight. The reptilian lay upon his back, broken and lifeless, eyes torn wide, pupils highly dilated, and the Detective crouched beside his fallen adversary, blade of fire still clutched in the fingers of madness given form. After Kerat had struck the ground, he had cut the reptilian from stem to stern, literally disemboweling the being in his unrelenting fury, utterly devoid of any amount of rational thought. As evidenced in the thereafter, he had leaped from the tower in mad pursuit of his antagonist, striking the reptilian several more times before he utilized his jump jets to slow his own descent whilst the bones of Kerat cracked upon the ground below. Following his own safe landing, he had done the deed, at last concluding their most vicious battle."

"Now, however, the man merely sat there, his rage having fleeted as the morning mist...and wept. Yes, ladies and gentlemen of the Security Council, We saw the tears stream from his eyes with our very own. He had regained his senses, as well as the memories so long locked away, and now made himself known to us as Armand Thysthe - a hunter of the very same sort Delta Team had twice now encountered, pursuing the prices upon the heads of wanted individuals among the stars. Miss Rosalind could scarcely believe the words he spoke then and there, and We found Our person in a most like position, having always known the Detective as a kind and truly virtuous man, his character abound with naught but the desire to help those in need."

"Personally, We believe the remembrance of his past as a ruthless huntsman struck the man harder than either of us, having both seen and felt his innermost being once more become his former self; a self he now considered no more than an amoral monster..."

"Don't go looking for a truth of all." Acid merely remarked cryptically, carrying a gentle smile as he continued to follow the two, "You'll never see your home again..."

Acid, however, was currently quite unable to bring anything even resembling a word across his lips, his jaws wide open in roaring laugher, the reptilian needing to lean against the wall in order to avoid falling over.

"I'm sorry..." he finally said, gasping for air, still holding his side, nearly sliding down said wall, "I couldn't...I didn't mean...oh man...I'm really sorry..."

Finally calming down somewhat, he pointed the way down a different hall, "Actually no, it's that way."

However, that seemed to have only been an aside, as the Khelari went on, another chuckle running through his teeth as they continued to walk, "Again, I'm sorry, but that was just too much. I've never had anyone accuse me of being a vegetarian before...heheh...I just couldn't handle that with a straight face."

"Seriously though," the reptilian grinned very toothily, and this time on purpose, wiggling visibly the clawed fingers of a hand, "what do I look like I eat? I'm a predator. Lemme tell you, there's few things more exhilarating than hunting down your meal..."

The grin had become a light smile now, the reptilian's eyes staring ahead of their stride, apparently into nothing more than dead space as Acid underscored his words with gestures of his hands, his tail giving a brief twitch as it swayed behind him every now and then.

"...the hot wind against your hide as you chase it across the ebon patches between flows, the rock beneath your feet, the scent of its fear guiding you to it like a missile as you close the distance...slowly, purposefully, until you're close enough to pounce. When your claws tear through its armor and dig into its flesh, your teeth sink into its neck, and you feel its warm blood running down your throat as you bring it to the ground, careful lest it crush you with its falling mass. When you go for the throat, and your jaws rip the life from its body in those precious few moments before it can hide its weak spot again. You feel its every last twitch in every last tooth as you hold on without mercy until you feel the pulse of the body wedged against your own give way, and then your heart is the only one that beats. Then, only then you are safe, and can begin to eat, its warm meat still fresh and so full of life as you rend it from the bone, and..."

"Oh." the reptilian returned to the present from one moment to another, realizing where he was with some measure of embarrassment, "Do excuse me. Got a little carried away there. Anyway, my point being: in my culture, you kill it, you eat it. If you're not hungry, or need to defend yourself, you don't make a kill. It's just...no. I don't know if you can understand that. I know I can't understand a lot of things humans do."

"Like..." he motioned to the walking fly trap, "I'm just glad that was there to eat it. Hurting something, let alone killing another living being just to...just to show how well you can shoot? I'm sorry, I just can't come to terms with that. And in that respect, yes, you really are a poor, unenlightened slob. I apologize if that offends you, but from where I'm standing it's the truth..."

Acid only smiled as they walked, looking to Alyssa for a moment, who'd reliazed the meaning of the reptilian's remark with near-instant aptitude, "Heh, guess my 'humans' comment may have been a bit premature. Do tell me, did you gain your understanding of other lifeforms by some means, or were you born with it...?"

"Hm, too bad." Acid replied with a most sinister smirk, "It would've been very lucrative. But I guess you're not Osk'kan, heh. Hotaka?"

"Very well." the towering Oriental sighed, fishing about in his robes until he produced a magnetic key card, then flicked the thing onto the floor before the corner, "There, you have what you want. We'll be on our way then..."

Death!

"That was it!" Acid suddenly exclaimed, only barely suppressing the impulse to smack his head in a tremendous assault of 'duh', turning to Hotaka, "Sombre Death, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

"Oh." the towering oriental nodded, as if that explained everything, but of course a moment later wanted to know, "Who?"

"Nevermind." the reptilian waved off, "I think I've got a solution, though. Hey, Death - so how much are they paying you guys? Malta, I'm assuming, that is. What's the number...?"

((Woot. Time to catch up, aye? ))

"Guess not." Acid's remarked quietly to himself as eyes wandered to and fro, the reptilian trying hard to remember where he'd heard that voice before, "And actually, we don't. Or at least I don't."

"I think I do." Hotaka took the word on this, "He wants the crate. My good man, you will find that behind us within an armored vault, presently sealed by a time lock. I speak only truth when I state that neither of us is carrying it..."

Acid's eyes gave a roll in response, the reptilian shaking his head slightly with a sigh of, "Humans."

Still, that didn't change his mind. He did want to at least try and do as the Doc said, and it looked like this would be the quickest way. He'd follow them - reluctantly, but he'd follow them...

"As a matter of fact, no." Acid had to admit, scratching his head, as usual finding his knowledge of popular human culture lacking. Then again, one couldn't really harsh on the guy for that considering the circumstances, "But I was thinking more of tripping the ship's emergency distress beacon. Knowing Malta, they've probably taken the radio room, but I'd imagine a signal like that can be sent going from anything to do with the ship's computer."

Indeed, the Khelari was right - and the Emergency Position-Indicating Radio Beacon was just one of the tools employed by the Global Maritime Distress Safety System. Moreover, it was notoriously hard to disable, and nearly impossibly so without setting it off. True, Malta might have brought in computer specialists, but they'd have to be absolute geniuses to pull something like that off. Simply put, it was easier (and therefore more logical) to just keep passengers and crew from the areas that allowed computer interface, whether by posing as maintenance personnel or other methods of deception.

"As for being safer with you...how about no?" he smiled with a sideways glance at Danny, "I've run into Malta before. They're not interested in me anymore. And no, I'm not mad at them. In fact, I'm not even angry. I'm being so sincere right now."

He chuckled for a moment, then went on, "As for tools...yeah, my watch. But I kind of deconstructed that. And now that I think about it, I have no idea how to retch up that bioplasma again. It's probably integrated by now...and I can't get to the thousand sun world and ask the CP for more right now. Hm. Should've thought that one through more."

"Oh, right." the reptilian only now realized he'd gone off monologueing, biting against his upper lip as he considered, then finally sighed, "Okay, fine. I'll help you set off the beacon. But if I get sniped, I'm...okay, so I haven't figured that part out yet. I was gonna say I'm biting you, but human tastes horrible, so there's a definite no. Well, what're you still floating around for, let's get this over with..."

"How about not getting shot by said 'goons', who are pretty decent marksmen wielding high-powered assault rifles?" Acid answered Danny with a wry grin, "You're talking about going up against people who hunt superheroes - and have the tools to win. Don't let my looks fool you, I'm a very sensitive guy...not to mention allergic to pain."

"Seriously, I'm just an engineer." the reptilian flipped the para-scalpel in his fingers, "A civilian. As in don't have special powers, or in a military. Moreover, I would try and convince you to call the navy instead, but...yeah, you smell like the kind of guy who doesn't back down once he's made up his mind..."

Just these two.

They stared at one another beneath the age-old dome, Khelari and Ferron, the focus of resolve in the eyes of one, the glimmer of madness in the other. In his fingers Thermoplast clenched the hilt of his unreal blade of fire while Kerat held his weapon vertically by his side, his free hand to the skies.

In a pulse of force, the dome's transparent panes exploded, and neither of them moved so much as a leg whilst the shards came down to glisten in the rain, turning, tumbling through the air in silent majesty. Both stood motionless; the patience of predators. In the dark clouds above, thunder rolled and lightning flashed, once, twice more. Still neither made a move, waiting for the other, though the battle of their eyes had long since come to crash.

Drops of water fell gently on their bodies, on the floor, nature so soft and serene coating the stone and metal beneath their feet with its caressing stroke, but still odium poured by leaps and bounds from the unmoving Ferron, his lips sealed, unable to convey the unrelenting fury that now boiled behind his eyes.

Then he charged.

Slowly, inexorably, an eternity passed with each accomplished step. But every stride moved him closer, just a little further, and as if the skies knew, lighting flashed one more, hotly roaring through the skies with all the rage that hid below. Still he came, still he ran, the soles of his boots dashing apart the water beneath them with every forceful, fervent step. The distance to his opponent shrank and shrank, a mad smile forming beneath the white cloth, his blazing blade edging closer and closer as the Khelari brought his weapon to the ready.

The so different blades clashed with equal fervor, Khelari stepping back as Ferron forged ahead, their weapons striking another time and again with incredible force and speed, the eyes of both screaming at the other to just wither up and die. Fire crashed to metal with such might, crashed a second time with vigor, that it forced Kerat into a continuous retreat, dancing the lethal steps of their deadly tango with cold, dispassionate precision. Their blades came at one another time and again, thrashing through the rain-filled air as extensions of their bodies, and still Thermoplast drove the Khelari inevitably to the edge, to what lay beyond the broken dome, for nothing bound his wrath.

Lashing out his fiery blade, laying in a second strike, he ceased only for the moment the Khelari took to leap onto the tower roof below, then came down like the devil himself, crashing without mercy his blade into Kerat's. This unbalanced his opponent, and the Khelari staggered back anew, and this Thermoplast took as his chance to strike again. And again. And again. And one more time, forcing back his foe further and further with every passing second. He kept on the pressure, forging on, only strengthening the fervor unleashed upon Kerat.

With one more maddened lash, he flung the weapon from his opponent's hands, tossing the reptilian past the edge with his strike's violence, leaving the Khelari to hang by his claws over the abyss below.

Slowly, inexorably, the Ferron raised his burning blade, the fire in his eyes greater than his sword's could ever be, as far below those of Vanguard's force bore distant witness from a tower bridge. The blazing sword hung there as the blade of a guillotine, reflected in the eyes of Kerat just as those below.

Cory Simmons
Toy Dispenser
Penny Arcade
Randall Grey
Solid Shot
Archlich
Ryat66
Trigen
Cynic
Rosie
Balsk
Jake
and the Lady Grey.

The sword came down, and a blaze of fire leaped from the tower high above. The form of a falling figure rushed rapidly into the abyss...

The Lady Grey

"His first question was to the health of those about him; his second to what had transpired. As we rendered him aid, the entourage of Toy Dispenser launched into a veritable cascade of vastly differing narrations, disorienting him to a much greater extent than any punch he had taken in his battle with the Khelari could have. However, this is by no means to say he carried any amount of peripheral sense about him at that point in time. Some duration had been requisitioned to pass before such could occur, though once it had, things quickly took on a much darker tone."

"A shout of fright followed an outburst of bodily convulsions upon the stretcher we had placed him, whipping his head about like a caged animal, attempting to track or locate something that, by all appearances, none of us could see. At first, none of us retained anything that so much as resembled an idea of what to do, and our attention turned to the draconian part of the SPC personnel. He, however, seemed to have gathered an entirely different case of debilitation, his scales having taken on a noticeably bleached tone, his only reply alluding to some manner of temporary sickness. Nevertheless, simply witnessing his presence seemed to bestow a measure of calm upon Sage once more, as he gained sufficient collection to speak once more, inquiring about the whereabouts of Thermoplast."

"Rosalind guided the conversation from then on, summarizing the events in a comprehensive fashion: not long after the two had disappeared within the pit of the shaft, the second half of Delta Team had entered the engagement under the leadership of Toy Dispenser, a small division of Alpha Team assisting in the effort to repulse hostile forces from the area. In the commotion, had Kerat emerged from the shaft and entered the fray as well, logically gathering immediate attention. However, it was the reaction of the SPC Detective Thermoplast that stood as the most striking, the man appearing to suffer a nervous breakdown upon the reptilian uttering a phrase in a language unknown to us. For several seconds, the Detective sat motionlessly upon his knees, as if his very mind had been rent from his corporeal form. No sooner had motion come into his form again, however, than he rejoined the engagement with not only renewed zeal, but displaying a truly frightening manner, as if every last bit of rage within his soul had boiled to the surface simultaneously."

"He had taken up immediate pursuit of Kerat, ignoring any and all hails and orders to the contrary, his partially spiritual weapon cleaving directly through several opposing mechanoids in order to gain the ability to follow the reptilian from the chamber as rapidly as possible, even leaving his weapon after having been unable to pull it from a robot after he had struck the machine down. While concerned, the team stood unable to follow at the time, and now that the enemy had retreated, we had precious little information as to which direction to direct our search toward."

"Regrettably, the latter soon changed. We say regrettably due to...no, We shall continue in order to allow for clearer understanding. Not far from the structure we presently found ourselves in stood another tower - an assembly of them in fact, incorporating a quartet in the form of a triangular arrangement merged with a central, taller structure. This central structure in turn stood crowned by another transparent dome held by a support structure of interlocking triangles, and a platform connecting several bridges that ran to the structure formed a manner of segmented island about the periphery of the compound tower. But We shall return to the dome that formed the uppermost level, for this soon became the focus of our attention. Miss Rosalind had there spied the characteristic flare of a fire sword, and indeed the cause would be Detective Thermoplast. Regrettably, we found ourselves unable to reach the site of the conflict in time..."

"So..." Grey tried to be as tactful as possible, not much of a meaningful word having been spoken since the group had entered the corridor. Penny and Jake were up ahead with C'Kelkah, their robotic henchmen making sure any nasty surprises would run into a veritable outpouring of resistance in the form of a whole lot of firepower and defensive shielding. The Ryat unit formed the backbone of their formation, and even Cynic's blade mace looked to be just itching to bombard anything that dared rear its ugly head. This in turn left Cory to bridge the center, with Grey and Sage bringing up the rear. Randall knew no one really stood sure how to feel about this right now, but that they at least trusted his judgment (or seemed to, anyway), and wouldn't jump the point if he didn't.

"So, you were telling the truth back there, huh?" he finally managed to conclude his question to Sage, not really having desired to be this direct about it. Still, he hadn't seen many other options, "About the whole Dark Dragon thing?"

"Yes." the draconian replied with a defeated tone. Randall had little trouble picking up on that. This guy was afraid of something...something he didn't want to talk about. Apparently, his disguise had eased that just enough, but now that sections of the orange overhide had been torn from the dark scales underneath, whatever it was had come back to haunt him.

Damn it all...where's Essex when you really need her?

Or Rosie, for that matter. She'd seemed able to calm him down a little bit - especially when he'd been so fidgety around...no. Grey found himself staring directly at Sage. It couldn't have been. Why? What could've possibly-?

"Incoming!" Simmons' shout scattered his thoughts, the assault from directly head slamming into the team's shields with breathtaking ferocity, multitudes of crimson energy and blue-white plasma lancing into the barriers that Jake and Penny had created to protect their comrades, straining the energetic walls most direly. Their own mechanoids returned fire almost the very next instant, and the others weren't picky either, hurling what they had at the division of the Slinger's robots up ahead to decimate this pocket of opposition like they had so many before. This time, however, it was not to be. Apparently, the mechanoids had been holding back thus far, for the team's fire lanced into tight-spanned shields as well, and from Jake's chain of expletives, it seemed their offense had been stepped up too.

"Not here!" Randall's pumping blood catapulted him right into the fray again, the division' leader waving the others back to him, "Fall back!"

It had promptly become clear to him that the confines of the corridor wasn't one of the best places to engage this sort of enemy, and he wasted no time informing them of just that, giving order to regroup in the large dome they'd passed just a short distance back. The roof, consisting of transparent window panes set into a myriad of large triangles, covered a sufficiently large space to draw the attacking mechanoids apart, and while the rain of the thick clouds above by now streamed consistently over the dome, creating several distracting shadows, Grey also recalled the presence of a wide pit set against the enclosed chamber's perimeter. He hadn't looked into the thing personally, but several people had assured him it was some manner of machine shaft, and respectably deep. If worse came to worse, that meant he could start throwing robots down into it without worry of hitting someone else.

The hostile mechanoids, however, didn't seem to like that idea at all, entering the chamber from the other direction as well not long after the team had reached it, pushing them against the side of the circle opposite the pit. Thereafter, they formed a cordon that engaged both at range and melee, and the trap had been sprung; this now stood clear as crystal. Grey cursed into his beard as he realized what they'd fallen for. Thankfully, Delta Team operated a second half elsewhere, and the call for backup came to be answered almost immediately. Still, it would take time to get here, for they'd run into a certain Delta of their own.

"Keep at it, backup's on the way!" Grey cut the connection as he heaved another battle drone over his head and used it as an improvised bowling ball. He may not have been able to get to the machines themselves due to their shields, but he sure as hell could grab said shields on the smaller units - and in the meantime, their own barriers prevented the robotic attackers from doing serious harm.

Yeah, right.

"Down!" Cynic's tone bellowed not two seconds before a titanic detonation literally blew the group apart, tossing its members all about in the wake of the missile's thunderous explosion. Fortunately, the shields about them had taken the worst of it, but a comparison to pinball would've nevertheless been appropriate right about now. Too bad the only one standing wasn't in the mood.

"Heh." Kerat wore a most savage grin as he dropped the spent launcher to the ground, the mechanoids having quickly surrounded his freshly singled-out opponents, now holding them at the muzzles of their cannons. The reptilian, however, opted not to rely entirely on that, canvassing the group with his bladed weapon in the claws of an outstretched arm, "Finally caught my would-be heroes. Ah-ah, Miss Arcade, I won't be having any of that now. Now, I'm going...wait - where'd our scaly friend get to? Oh well."

"Eeeehh..." said person muttered quietly upon looking down into the depths, swallowing hard as he hung by a clawed hand from a pipe flange in wall of the machine shaft, "...that's deep. How about no?"

He hated to admit it, and probably never would, but these days heights really didn't agree with him. Mercifully, the uneven wall of the machine shaft provided plenty of grip for his claws, allowing him to hoist himself back up to the edge before long. The sight there, however, wasn't much better than staring down into the pit again.

"...so I'm going to give you just one more chance." Kerat had by now nearly presented his ultimatum, "All you have to do is leave. Really. I won't shoot you in the back or anything. Just leave. Simple as that. Of course, if you don't..."

The hums and clacks of robotic weaponry proved several orders of magnitude more eloquent than words at that point.

Yep, that settles it. I'm crazy. I'm insane. I'm suicidal. I'm going to die.

"Don't even think about it." Kerat's head whipped about as he heard those words from a very determined-sounding Sage, "Else I'm turning you inside out. Got that?"

He spied the draconian crouched at the rim of the pit, the explosion having cost him most of his false hide, as well as a good part of the upper section of his vestment, including the headband he'd wrapped around his blood-red hair. Said wig had of course flown wide as well, which meant that his formerly so well formed disguise had been almost utterly destroyed. Surprisingly, he looked a great deal like Balsk now, the headband having apparently changed the very shape of his body - or at least that of his head and feet, as well as formerly adding roughly twenty centimeters to his height - for he now appeared very close to the SPC's dragonman indeed.

Just about the only visible difference (aside from the night-black hue of his scales and the defined absence of wings) was the presence of the keratin plates that protected his chest, abdomen, and ventral tail, carrying a hue of dimmest cobalt, an even darker shade than the Malta Group's midnight blue. In addition, the frighteningly great number of scars upon his hide now stood clear for all to see, and considering they ran over virtually every part of him that the vestment did not hide, many of Grey's team didn't want to imagine just how many of them the draconian truly bore. Even the keratin plates carried several deep scratches, as well as a chipped crack or two, which had to have been respectably painful upon infliction.

The Khelari's maw, however, only opened wide with psychotic laughter in response, his eyes nearly closed as he mocked, "You are threatening me? My old friend, I don't think you underst-"

A fistful of claws against his jaw cut the sentence short, Kerat staggering back several steps with the force just imparted on him, Sage having used the Khelari's momentary lapse in attention to close the distance. Feeling the moment, Grey did the same, ramming over the closest robot in his effort to create a rally point near the wall, taking one attack direction out of the equation. The rest of the team now reengaged as well, jumping on board with Randall's strategy, and the brawl came into full swing afresh as the team formed a solid defensive perimeter about the designated spot.

"Keep them there!" the Khelari snarled at the robotic assault force, throwing his free arm their way for a moment while keeping his weapon's barrel focused on Sage. He again turned to the draconian, rubbing his jaw, "Not bad. I actually felt that one. But don't think speed'll save you. Your pals I'll leave to the robots. You, however, I'm going to kill personally."

To Sage's great dismay, Kerat didn't waste any more time on useless banter after that, instead simply squeezing the trigger, the shell's bright-yellow detonation clapping its thunder at the spot he'd stood at just moments before.

"Don't make it so hard on yourself, my old friend." Kerat grinned in a most sinister, predatory manner as the barrel of his bladed weapon trailed Sage's movements, the Khelari squeezing the trigger time and again, chasing the draconian across the floor and nearest wall, "I want to get this over with quick. Just hold still a moment!"

"Oh, of course, you'd very much like that." Sage retorted sarcastically between rapid breaths, his agility keeping him just a hint ahead of the detonations, though his balance teetered visibly a good number more than once, "Catch me!"

However, the evasive play was but a farce, Sage in fact using the detonations as a sort of visual cover to approach Kerat for a second time.

"Careful," he smiled toothily as he ducked through the last few meters, coming at the reptilian from a low angle and slashing a clawed hand across his face, eliciting an irritated snarl, "else I catch you."

While painful, he knew the maneuver would do no more than distract the Khelari for a split second, and thus followed up fast as he could, ramming his head into Kerat's gut with a forceful leap, pinning his opponent to the wall, the bladed gun sent to clatter to the floor. Unfortunately, the moment of triumph didn't last very long.

"Fool." Kerat hissed hollowly, eyes alive with the corrupt green bile that had infected his being, the claws of one hand wrapping around Sage's throat to push the draconian off him, then lifting him into the air at the end of his arm, "Oh, look. Now I have you. What do you think of that?"

A retched growl came through Sage's clenched teeth, his own claws at his throat, trying to break the choke hold as Kerat chuckled in response, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Do try and speak a little more clearly!"

The last word came almost in a roar, the reptilian throwing his opponent with a wide arc of his arm, sending him to sail directly down into the pit. The harsh crack of bone echoed from the machine shaft's bottom, but the Khelari gave himself to no illusions. Drokar could take a good deal more punishment than that, and not two seconds later he leaped into the shaft as well, bottomlessly disappointed that the sole of his boot didn't catch Sage how he'd wanted at the end of his very angled journey. Still, a fist worked just as well to bring the draconian back to the floor on his arms and knees, at least when followed by a deft slash of his own claws.

"Ah, so you do bleed." Kerat couldn't help but state snidely with a sadistic smile, earning a distasteful snarl as his reply.

"How infinitely observant." Sage added a moment later, coughing a clod onto the floor, "Your keen grasp...of the obvious never ceases...to amaze. And how long...should I bleed?"

"Until you're dead!" the Khelari's heavy boot rammed Sage's head back into the ground, his claws peeling his dazed opponent from the floor all over again a few seconds later, following up by reversing the previous situation, now pinning him to the wall instead while the reptilian's free hand wiped the blood from the gouges Sage had torn across his face, "Oh, right. I almost forgot. I owe you something."

A roar of anguish rang all the way up the machine shaft, Kerat raking deep wounds into the face of Sage, a twisted chuckle passing across his lips, "I do hope that hurts nicely. It certainly did me. Really, what were you thinking, coming here?"

"I mean, you should've realized it would end like this." he stiffened the fingers of his free hand, like one would before a karate chop, but instead merely straightened his claws and drove his fingers into the draconian's abdomen, splitting first the keratin plates, then the flesh, and finally the soft tissue beneath, causing Sage to gasp for breath, "Especially once you found out about the corruption. I'm terribly sorry if you expected to join us, but I'm afraid the group roster is full at the moment."

He heaved Sage overhead another time, sending him to crash against the shaft's far wall, but as Sage fell curled to the floor, he perceived a faint whisper, "Almost got him. Whatever happens, don't let him leave."

While the voice itself had without a doubt come from the Khelari, in his present state he wasn't sure of anything his ears now told him, especially as Kerat continued to speak with normal volume, "No, you're not leaving here. For you, this is the last stop. Any last wishes?"

Sage didn't have the energy to do much more than crack a bloody smile as he opened the fingers of his left hand, chuckling gurglingly when Kerat's smile left his face from one instant to another at the sight of what the draconian's thumb now rested against.

"Well damn." was all the Khelari had time for before his jacket exploded, the detonation swallowing him its cloud of smoke and fire, and a due impact sounded from the wall beyond.

"Ow..." Sage groaned as he slowly rolled off his side, dropping the spent detonator he'd lifted from his opponent during all the choking. He counted himself lucky that the corruption hadn't done away with Kerat's meticulous placement of secondary weaponry, otherwise the pocket that always held his microbombs may well not have contained any now. Lifting himself off the ground again, a hand pressed firmly against the wound in his abdomen, a wave of depression threatened to overcome him at the sight of the climb before him, "...a kingdom for a ladder..."

Nevertheless, the sound of battle above spurned him on, and with clenched teeth he began the ascent with labored breath. This only served to further the severity of the sudden shock at the claws about his ankle, digging into this flesh with force and tearing him from the piping to once more bring his back into highly unpleasant contact with the floor.

"Sorry," Kerat's voice came from somewhere near, Sage barely able to see for a moment, "but I've learned a few new moves since we last met."

The sound of screaming metal tore Sage's eyes fully open and into focus once again, quickly locating the Khelari, who'd suffered little more from the bomb than some concussive trauma, "I'm still not very good at making stuff up out of thin air without Ace around, but I can suck the energy right out of stuff exceedingly well. Like bombs. Of course, this results in me now carrying pockets full of duds, but oh well. It is acceptable."

Though the reptilian did sway somewhat as he walked, Sage had precious little attention for that right now, the long spike Kerat had torn from the shaft wall currently demanding the bulk of his focus - especially once the Khelari had driven the thing right through his left arm, nailing the draconian to the floor with another savage howl of pain.

"Sadly, I'm going to have to run now." Kerat coughed, breathing somewhat heavily, "Otherwise your pals are going to get here and waste my robots before I can get back up there. Oh well. I guess this is goodbye then."

Sage's vision swam again as his opponent left him there, soon losing sight of the reptilian on his climb. Truth be told, at the moment he didn't really care. He hurt in places he didn't even know he had, and by the many pools of blood on the floor, he was certain he'd lost a good amount. Listening inside himself, he undeniably felt the rapid beat of his second heart, which meant nothing good. He had to get out of here and into some sort of medical attention - and if it was just a simple wrap to stop the bleeding. One more time he bellowed out his agony as he forced the spike from his arm (or his arm from the spike, depending on one's point of view), and began to climb the shaft again, carrying on a monologue all the way to keep himself awake and at least partially focused. He had no idea how much time eventually passed during his ascent, nor where he even was relative to his goal, keeping his full awareness on nothing but the desire to keep climbing, holding no want to slip in a sudden bout of weakness.

"Ow..." he never stopped speaking, trying to stay conscious at all costs, even as he reached the rim of the pit, "I'm getting really sick...of climbing this thing. I...I just want to lie down and sleep for three days. Eech...my back...my head...my stomach...and the arm...hell, my everything...oh hey...who are you...?"

"Hm." Randall Grey couldn't suppress a chuckle as the fingers of the Lady Grey's hand curled about the one of the individual he'd known as Sage, gently pulling the draconian from the pit, the tanker remarking with an uneasy smile, "Damn man, you sure do look like..."

The Pilot

A relaxed, satisfied smile played about Kerat's lips as he stretched back in the contour seat, eyes closed. Slowly but surely, the firm backrest returned a feeling of ease to his spine by the removal of load, causing him to recline the seat a little further, bit-by-bit, until it had assumed a nearly horizontal position.

"What?!" therefore caused him to vault upward and clench the armrest in just such a manner that the seat unceremoniously dumped him over the backrest and onto the floor. The darkened cockpit's opaque window panes spun by like a tornado, as did several holographic control elements, until the floor's metal plating finally broke his fall, letting him come to rest, the tip of his tail still in the chair giving an irritable twitch.

A moment later, however, he recalled that Acid's outbursts usually sat connected to something suitably catastrophic, more often than not in direct proportion to the volume of his voice. Judging from this experience, something terrible had just happened - or was just about to.

"Moving!" Kerat shouted in return even before he'd rolled himself off the floor again, storming through the open cockpit door, into the transport's personnel bay and on to port, into the tiny infirmary.

"Oh, you are kidding me!" he exclaimed as he saw Acid's claws fly across a holographic interface, the display above bringing up one anatomical chart after another, of a very specific Drokar subspecies. In addition, Kerat now got the mental message as well, having missed Big M's memo the first time.

Wish I was. We've got a Dark Dragon.

Kerat still couldn't believe it, growling despite himself, "You mean...?"

"He means." Acid affirmed, eyes not leaving the holograms, "One Dark Dragon. Yes, the one person we don't want here right now. That one."

"Gygh..." Kerat exhaled sharply with a hand on his face, jaws pressed into one another, "Great balls of fire, how-"

"Working on it. Right now, all I've got is a freakishly inconvenient cosmic coincidence, courtesy of Murphy."

"Aw spit." Kerat now joined his friend at recalling the information in the medical databanks, "Why now of all times? How in blue blazes-?"

Both Khelari broke off at virtually the very same instant, their head snapping to look at one another, the mental message chiming in with the words, "The prophecy."

"I hate fortune tellers." Acid snarled as he called up the last of the information, reaching for the bladed weapon that rested on a compound center, "Except Ellert. Ellert's cool."

"Hm." was all that Kerat could comment to that, "So now what? What's this going to do to the plan?"

Acid stopped for a moment, allowing himself a sigh, then retorted in a truly emotionless tone, "Kill it."

"We can't do that! If we don't release-"

"I know. But I don't see any other way."

Kerat's eyes closed despondently, the Khelari unsure of what to do. They'd worked so hard, come so far...he couldn't let Acid do this. His eyelids snapped open again as an idea took concrete nature in the form of a decision, "I do."

Before Acid could even look to see what his friend meant, Kerat had rammed a fist into his gut and swept the weapon from his fingers, then followed up with a forceful kick that sent Acid into the wall.

"Seal the room." he commanded the transport as he quickly departed the small medbay, the armored door rushing from the ceiling to perform its duty in less than a second. The very next, Kerat gave a time lock command, and the one after that he could already hear Acid's frame ram against the newly formed wall.

"What are you doing?!" his friend's horrified tone came muffled from the other side, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"What you were about to." Kerat answered with deathly calm, taking a few more pieces of equipment from the personnel bay and meticulously placing them in the pockets of his jacket, trying his very best to ignore the repeated impacts of his friend against the door, "If I do it, the plan stays intact."

"Kerat, you idiot! He'll kill you!"

"If that's my fate, then fine. But I can't let the prophecy come true."

"You moron! Let-!"

"No." slipped dispassionately over the Khelari's lips, "You know why we can't."

"The hell we can't! We can call a dark gate, get another-"

"Wouldn't change the result. Just lessen the scale. You've become too attached. If I let you do this, the plan's gone, no matter what. I'm... I'm sorry."

"You-!" a series of expletives flooded the personnel bay, the pounding on the door increasing in both frequency and severity. A slight crinkle followed. Kerat knew the sound well - Acid had started trying to bite through the override, still snarling vehemently all the way. Kerat swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to push away all he heard as the sound of tears mixed with the bestial growls. Still, his fingers stopped for a moment over the release mechanism of the transport's rear ramp, despite the noise behind him gradually waning. He still perceived the sound of Acid's teeth against the metal of the ship, though...he'd keep on going 'till he bled. He always did. Kerat wiped a tear from his eye. Now wasn't the time for such thoughts. He had a job to do.

His palm depressed the opening contact, and with a hydraulic roar, the ramp came open and freed his way...

Alyssa's first question answered, sliding from the tree again with remark to Danny, the para-scalpel still in his claws, "You know, it's a pretty simple procedure. You sure you don't want me to put one into you as well?"

Whether Danny accepted or not, however, wouldn't change the ultimate outcome once the time to leave did come, the reptilian setting course back to his bag with a curt, "Alright then, good luck you two. Lemme know how it went, okay? I'm a sucker for a good story..."

Randall Grey let out another grunt as the granite coating of his arms caught another volley of frigid shards, having crossed them before his face in expectation of another ice missile. He tried to get a fix on their opponent through the vicious drifts of the snow storm that howled and raged all about, and even the large tanker knew he had to take great care to prevent the constant sleet from building up on him. Worse yet, he'd lost sight of his comrades in the raging blizzard, veiling everything about him with vehemently whipping white.

"That all you got?!" he bellowed out into the winds, trying to keep the hunter's attention away from the others. Inwardly, however, he let out an annoyed sigh. When he thought how it had started so well...

The hunter had confronted them upon Grey's division of Delta Team entering another of the large, circular, open-air structures, just like the one in which they'd originally battled Delta 5. This time, however, he hadn't come alone - he'd brought his ship as well. Leaping from the craft that resembled a triangle crossed with a catamaran, and donned a color scheme much like the hunter himself, the cold-wielding alien had demanded the surrender of Sage into his custody, of course still addressing Delta Team's more humanoid draconian as the Dark Dragon. Grey had refused, ardently cracking the knuckles of the very fist that had disposed of their assailant before. The hunter, however, had merely laughed.

Tapping his odd arrangement of one hand's fingers against the lower portion of his opposite arm, he'd commanded the ship to rise to about fifty meters. Indeed, even up there it had loomed rather ominously, almost twice the size of a Rikti Drop Ship, and armed with cold-based weaponry that Grey had come to know only too well. However, it had appeared the hunter had no intention of employing his craft, instead throwing wide his arms and sending out a powerful frozen aura, calling forth great spires of ice right from untouched ground. Moments later, the storm had kicked up, enveloping Grey and his division in conditions that had to qualify as some kind of whiteout. Worse yet, most of the team now stood unable to find solid footing on the giant patch of ice the floor beneath their feet had become, and flight had become a veritable impossibility. Grey had thanked the stars that he'd rooted himself to the ground just before, as otherwise things would've gotten even worse.

Not that they'd become exactly rosy. Near as Grey could tell, the hunter's ship empowered the man's abilities to a much greater order of magnitude, allowing him to take on the whole team alone...and hold his own. Randall had already taken multiple grave strikes from the slippery sod's huge ice sword, not to mention the missile pack he liked to show off so frequently, and things were looking anything but good.

"Simmons!" he roared into the blizzard again, "Dammit, make with that fire of yours, else we're done for!"

Instead of a vocal response, he received the dull thunder of an energy beam, Ryat66 blasting at the hunter not a meter beside him, the android's shout following soon after, "He's presently...incapacitated!"

"Am not!" the arcanist chimed in, "Someone get my hands loose and I'll show you just how not incapacitated I am!"

"Yeah, well..." Randall's teeth gnashed into one another yet again as he took a further strike from the massive ice sword, the hunter sliding around the frosty ground with the greatest of ease, not to speak of his downright acrobatic stability, "...get 'em loose faster! I don't know how much longer I can hold him! Hey, snow cone...!"

This time, he didn't even get the opportunity to complete his taunt, the frigid blade coming at him yet again with unbridled vehemence. The strike brought with it a weighty load of force. Randall already set a foot behind him to catch the expected blow, but this time it proved pointless. The sword shattered against a barrier of pale-blue energy that suddenly wrapped around the tanker like a bubble, deflecting the strike from his granite-covered body. Seeing Jake's blast-goggled face smiling coolly in the corner of his eye, just barely within visual range, trench coat whipping behind the white-haired youth with the outstretched arm, Grey gave a nod of thanks and followed up, ramming a fist toward the hunter. Unfortunately, his target slipped away once more, disappearing in the rushing streams of white all about.

"Hell!" Jake already cursed not two seconds later, the storm's unusual sleet hardening on the bubble and shattering the shield into a million pieces, "No chance! They won't stay up!"

"Just keep at it!" Randall shouted in return, Jake's sudden deflation far from novel. The hunter's storm had attacked his defenses from the very beginning, but the young man had only come out more determined. Now, however, he slowly but surely slipped into exhaustion, and Grey could clearly see that he wouldn't last much longer, "We have to keep him busy!"

If only Jake's robots had still been with them. Apparently, the hunter had seen the henchmen of both the youth and Penny Arcade as significant threats, having frozen them solid the very first chance he had. Considering the potent dispersive effects of Jake's shields, Grey had to admit he was fortunate to have escaped the same fate thus far. The hunter had power to spare, and he obviously knew how to apply it properly. He just hoped Penny and Sage were having less trouble with their part of the...

A cacophonous explosion overhead told him otherwise. The storm of ice did lessen in severity, though this was more likely the result of the storm of fire that now streamed downward than anything else. Not far from the tanker, two figures struck the ground with the sickening crunch of bone, Sage cradling the smaller Penny as his back hit the floor with force, the woman unable to slow their rapid descent sufficiently prior to impact. Sage's gun clattered against the ground not a second later, the molten rest of grapple line hanging from its lower barrel telling a tale that contained more detail than Grey cared for.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." he nearly whispered as he watched the hunter's ship buck and heave above their heads, a heavy cloud of thick, black smoke rising from the starboard pylon, the fireball having by now dissipated. Fortunately, his fears were unfounded - the ship remained in the sky, still hovering in a somewhat stable manner.

"Ow..." groaned the dazed Sage as he rolled Penny off himself, feeling decidedly un stable, "Note to self...if it looks important...don't just rip it out..."

Randall couldn't help but crack a smile, Penny by now peeling the draconian from the floor by an arm like an old piece of gum. Still, he looked resilient enough, a few cuts and bruises seeming to be the worst he had sustained. The hunter, however, didn't appear to be enjoying this result one bit, breaking off Grey and striking at his believed payday instead, only to run into Penny's fields of force in turn. Still, the woman couldn't keep him at bay for long, Sage already scrambling to his feet and going for his gun again when the hunter broke through and lashed out with his icy blade, catching the draconian in the chest and sending him right into the wall.

"Sixty-six!" Randall bellowed, the android reacting with deft swiftness, blasting a beam between the stricken Sage and his would-be pursuer while the tanker closed in further, barking another insult at the hunter to get the guy's attention back to him.

No dice. No sooner had Sage peeled himself from the wall than a wave of bitter cold came at him, the draconian escaping solely due to his chin's contact with the floor. Rolling to the side, Sage managed to scramble up again as Cory Simmons enveloped the hunter with fiery fervor, weakening the frozen armor he'd protected himself with thus far jut enough for Grey's thrown boulder to make a profound impression on the man. Sage, however, looked to be in even worse shape than the hunter now, the scales of his orange hide having torn from the flesh beneath in several places, revealing...scales of matte black...?!

((Getting to it. And Cham, I'm surprised of you - Danny's Book of Wit has nothing to cover biotech, concrete, sex, and surgery? Well now, what a shame. He's usually such a chatterbox. ))

"Mono shield." Acid explained as his eyes slowly closed, his crouch upon the branch freezing in nearly absolute lack of motion, "Or screen. Basically, it's a paradim layer. I think you guys call a collection of those an aura. Not really sure. Either way, it's like the part of your mind that deals with things like thoughts and other mental stuff. In most people, that's set to 'let everything through both ways', at least in its unfocused state. A mono screen is another one, but instead of letting everything through without question, it'll ask you - your subconscious first; that passes it off if it's really important, like a message - whether you want to let something in or not."

As he spoke, Alyssa didn't feel much of anything. However, this was mot likely due to her headache being partly alcohol-induced. In truth, the influence of the psionic resonator vanished completely from one moment to another.

"Since that happens in almost zero time," the reptilian further elaborated as his eyes opened again and he released her head, tapping his claws against the makeshift device again, "it can handle literally billions of such attempts in an instant. Now like I said, this'll only be temporary. I don't have the necessary skill to make you a permanent one. Still, it should last at least a few hours, maybe a day or two..."

The Lady Grey

"Following this confrontation, the Warmaster achieved full conviction of the Lineage of Science with a measure approaching the greatest of ease. We say approaching because the very same consequences of the truth quickly threatened to wreak their havoc upon the Rikti on their world as they had upon ours. Fortunately, a number of spiritual leaders within the Lineage of Science managed to quell the worst before events led to anything as drastic as mass suicides. In addition, a second automaton could be exposed shortly thereafter, having attempted to escape the gathering hall even after the unmasking of the Lord of War. Indeed, it stands as credit to the Hro'Dtohz duplicate that the second unit could be found so rapidly - following his...its reassembly, of course. As an aside, perhaps We truly should speak of this copy as a person, for he had been programmed with a perfect semblance of the true Hro'Dtohz. Even his very closest comrades had been unable to distinguish them. Not surprising, truth be told, when one considers that even the creation had no knowledge of its true being."

"Being for all intents and purposes Hro'Dtohz, however, he held his foremost loyalties not to Nemesis, but to his people, his personal ambitions swept away by the realization of his true nature. The fact that he requested to be disabled or destroyed the very instant the madman somehow managed to attain control of him only proved further evidence to this, for while none of Delta Team could find any underlying programming, the Hro'Dtohz duplicate wished to take no risk. In his very words, he would not betray his people to such a monster. He would help. As would the Lineage of War. As would the Lineage of Science."

"Concerning the question of the actions of Hro'Dtohz upon our world, We must regrettably inform the members of the Security Council that the substitution did not lie far in the past. The Lord of War who commanded the second Rikti invasion, counterattack from the viewpoint of the Rikti at the time, stood composed of flesh and blood. His abduction had taken place only after the initial defeat of his person, as well as the Honoree, whose whereabouts would in turn remain unknown for some time, following the notice of his disappearance from his quarters within a weapons depot of the Lineage of War."

"The hypothesis that Nemesis had taken him had been ruled respectably illogical, and thus our combined eyes now turned to the next most likely suspects by extension: the members of the Malta Group hiding within the Forgotten Sanctuary. At this point, We feel that a moment should be taken to once more express Our gratitude to Randall Grey and the members of Delta Team, who despite standing worn and weary of battle, forged immediate plans to assault the Malta position. Furthermore, both Cher'tak as well as the duplicate of Hro'Dtohz explained beyond a doubt that the Lineage of War would still require time to overcome the trauma of the revelation they had received that day, and that they stood in no way ready to fight upon such short notice. Delta Team cared not, feeling no only that Malta without a doubt held spies about who would soon take note of this drastic change within the Rikti populace, warranting an acceleration of whatever sinister machinations they stood in the process of concocting, but also that Kerat's failure to incite outright war between the Vanguard expedition and the whole of Rikti civilization would drive him where he suspected the greatest chance to bring ruin upon the Rikti homeworld."

"Despite the difficulties in relation to gathering materiel, two Drop Ships could be procured, Delta Team splitting into a pair of smaller groups to more easily approach the stronghold of the Malta Group, and leaving the Warmaster and Lord of War to rally the Lineage of War in conjunction with the Lineage of Science. Following a return to the Jade Moon to acquire C'Kelkah to pilot the second ship - Mr. Wallace held refusal steadfast as a mountain regarding this topic, once more staying with us - as well as a visit to the home of Sah'Teece to take on the second Overwatch division, which had in the meantime arrived to relieve the paralyzed first, Delta Team once more set course for the Forgotten Sanctuary."

"Though initially successful, the strike quickly devolved into an unmitigated disaster. Malta had made ready their defenses with monumentally greater organization than before, and despite a lesser number of forces - having suffered heavy casualties in their first contact with Delta Team - the clandestine organization stopped the advance of both Delta Team and the Overwatch division cold in its tracks. Broken into multiple smaller groups, the Overwatch personnel having separated as well to create a greater number of hotspots for Malta to defend, the base commander coordinating Malta forces within the Forgotten Sanctuary predicted their movements with such uncanny accuracy that an incredibly balanced defense awaited each and every strike group. Across the entire operations area, Malta began to push back the intruding forces."

For a moment, her lips curled into a devilish smirk, "Until a Rikti mothership appeared beyond the clouds to reinforce the groups of Delta Team and Overwatch with fresh, battle-ready Vanguard soldiers. Yes - in credit to Lk'Onik and Sheldon Wallace, we had finally trained a sufficient number of personnel to successfully pilot the discus vessel to the planet. While we still were loathe to attempt atmospheric entry, not to speak of the initialization of a landing sequence, the craft's powerful teleportation apparatus allowed deployment of everything from single personnel to entire groups of HVAS units under Alpha Team."

"Still, the battle did not turn lightly. Malta soon fought our forces to a stalemate, and reluctantly We were forced to admit that even the unconventional methods employed by Vanguard stood as conventional as the bullets of Malta when compared to the much more diverse abilities wielded by the heroes of our time. We gave order to regroup, falling back in several areas in order to concentrate our forces in two select locations, and breached the defensive cordon, giving the halves of Delta Team enough time to slip through, their mission to seek out command and control and bring this battle to an end from within. With Vanguard and Overwatch squadrons ensuring that combat raged across virtually the entire area of the Forgotten Sanctuary, Malta no longer retained the necessary force to outright arrest the advance of Delta Team. They had stretched their assets too thin, and despite greatly hampering the progress of our spearheads, the war strode steadily across the Forgotten Sanctuary."

"Unfortunately, it stood as just that: a war, progressing by no means rapidly, nor in a mere a single battle. Indeed, we were forced to endure several dreadful engagements. First came the hunter..."

Randall Grey rubbed his eyes in irritation. This probably couldn't have gotten any worse. Not only had they literally crashed right in on the Lineage of Science, with all the violence a true attack might have entailed, but the leader of the Lineage of War stood present as well - and to him, this whole mess had doubtlessly been nothing but a most insidious assassination attempt. There was no way this was going over well by any definition of the word. How...how in the name of all that was good and holy had that maniac of a Warmaster convinced him to go ahead with this? Grey swore Cher'tak had become a Mentalist while no one had been looking. That was the only explanation.

Well, too late now. Man, I hope he knows what he's doing.

True, the Warmaster's plan was deceptively plain: get in, have him get their attention, and convince them of the truth. Nothing simpler, right? Yeah...Randall could've cried. This was never going to work, especially with Hro'Dtohz here. The Lineage of Science had little to no reason to disbelieve their Lord of War. Moreover, Cher'tak had a corrupted Khelari to speak against as well, and though Grey wasn't sure of Kerat's eloquence, if Acid's ways were anything to judge by, this would be far from easy.

However, there hung one small glimmer of hope: if Nemesis wanted to pull off his plan, he needed Rikti cooperation. He just didn't have the manpower to pull it off otherwise. That meant he needed to stock positions of influence with his automatons, and chances were good that at least one of them would be here. Just about anyone who knew the full truth behind the Rikti these days knew that Nemesis had the capability to build a working, convincing, and downright indistinguishable Rikti Automaton. Why he hadn't used them before - or if he had, when this had occurred - this no one knew. Still, if there had ever been a time for their employ, this was it, and despite the almost assured awareness that since Nemesis had concocted this plot, the brassen madman had probably planned on their discovery somehow, it was still their best chance to expose this whole charade. Hence why they had to take it.

Oh, right...that's how he did it. Sometimes I hate logic.

Now they 'just' needed to find one and expose it. Find a working, convincing, and downright indistinguishable Rikti Automaton, single it out from the real deal, and unmask it in a way that didn't look staged.

"Piece of cake." he heard the voice of Sage, feeling a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. A confident smile graced the face of the odd draconian, his cannon-like weapon resting lightly in the fingers of his other hand, "That is what you say, yes?"

"Yeah." Randall grinned into his beard, "Yeah, it is. Fine. Let's do this."

It didn't take long to secure the meeting chamber, albeit in a somewhat haphazard fashion, and more to prevent the terrified Rikti from running away than anything else. True, originally they'd hoped to catch Kerat in their impromptu net as well, but the Khelari had made himself thin once more. He was nowhere to be found. In either case, Cher'tak had begun to speak as soon as he'd reached the spot Hro'Dtohz had occupied before, the Warmaster thinking little of using the crashed container as his platform instead of the raised steps it had smashed apart. He wasn't one to nitpick when it came down to the wire, making due with whatever stood available at the time. With gentle fervor, he invoked the representatives of the Lineage of Science to calm, though of course the presence of 'genocidal barbarians from another world' formed more than a respectable speed bump, occupying the thoughts of most with the desire to be somewhere else. Thankfully, the dozen robotic henchmen Penny and Jake had reinforced Toy Dispenser's entourage with kept the exits blocked and foiled any initial would-be escape attempts merely by their presence.

Needless to say, such a tense situation couldn't be held for long; this stood clear to all. Fortunately, it didn't need to be. Cher'tak's words had been chosen well, and in less than a minute he at least had the attention of every last Rikti in the chamber - including, somewhat to his surprise, Hro'Dtohz. Apparently, the Lord of War was counting on the potentially explosive nature of the situation to further cement his point of the viciousness of humanity, therefore taking no aggressive action toward Cher'tak. The Lineage of Science of course knew nothing of the events which had transpired on the world of the humans since the second Rikti counterattack, the Lord of War having made no mention of the truth, and therefore were rather aghast at the accusations the Warmaster now brought before them. Hro'Dtohz, however, didn't seem particularly worried - at least not yet. Calmly, collectedly, the Lord of War walked through the speech he'd given to so many of his troops in previous times, naturally adapting many a verse to the composition of his present audience. The message, however, remained much the same.

Cher'tak's words were nothing but lies, the Warmaster captured and brainwashed by the humans. He could not be trusted, especially being the independent thinker, the very quality that had gained him his position. Indeed, Hro'Dtohz had never held much liking for the Warmasters - their sense of self stronger and more sovereign than most Rikti, their primary function generally concerned ensuring that Rikti minds remained close to one another during times of war; to act according to the interests of the group rather than the individual, and return any anomalous thought to the path of the whole.

Due to his own level of personal detachment, Cher'tak and his comrades had always scrutinized his at times unusual behavior, and Hro'Dtohz had quickly realized that with their level of aloofness from the whole approaching his own they could present a priment danger to his cover-up of the Human Invasion's true nature. Fortunately, he'd managed to phase most of them out of the Lineage of War (in one way or another) before they had a chance to uncover his plans: simply leaving Rikti civilization in the belief that humanity required absolute destruction. He knew well that if he could succeed, he'd remain the hero and legend he was this day - and that if he failed, it was all over. No longer would he be the glorious champion of the Lineage of War. A criminal, a murderer; that would be all history would remember of him, and truth be told he was. He just didn't care. He hadn't when he'd first uncovered the truth, and to this day he placed his own gain before that of his people.

"...and is the highest crime a Rikti might commit!" the Warmaster's voice suddenly echoed through the chamber, Penny and Sheldon bringing their hands together in a high five, "The humans are not our enemy! Greed, selfishness, and individualism, those are the names of our foe! And there he stands, my brothers and sisters, there he stands, the Lord of War - a bringer of death and defilement, of lies and deceit! That is his legacy, that is his being, nothing more!"

The mental mumbles that the workings of the team's technologists had made audible now reverberated through the chamber, both Hro'Dtohz and the Lineage of Science of course requesting some manner of proof - the former in a greatly more demanding conduct than the latter. The Lord of War hadn't been driven into a corner just yet, but he was getting impatient, this stood beyond a doubt. The powder keg had reached its spark point, and most of Delta Team ground their teeth as Penny Arcade stepped beside the Warmaster with a heavy bag around her shoulders.

The collective gasp echoed loudly, including from the Lord of War, not even Hro'Dtohz having expected to be presented with the head of the great villain himself: the vile and murderous Statesman! The chamber drowned in a sudden flood of arguments almost immediately, and Hro'Dtohz no longer seemed quite as sure of himself as he had been just a few moments ago. Still, the Lord of War managed to keep his facade, denouncing the presentation as farce, the head as fabricated. Undeniably, several representatives of the Lineage of Science did agree, though even they noticeably swayed in their opinions now.

"Human Arcade." the primary speaker addressed Panny after he had calmed the rumble of many voices yet again, "Warmaster Cher'tak. While your arguments hold wisdom and logic, so weigh the points of the Lord of War. How are we to know that you speak with candor? Hro'Dtohz is correct: humanity commands many with the strength of mind to subdue even a Warmaster, and an even larger number of...individuals capable of creating such machines. Can you offer any amount of evidence - it matters not how little - that cannot be refuted?"

Grey swore quietly. He'd expected as much. Worse, the discovery of an automaton, just said key piece of overwhelming evidence, had not occurred. Had Nemesis really known? He had to admit, he couldn't dismiss the possibility. The man may have been insane beyond measure, but he was an undeniable genius. Still...no. No, he just couldn't have. There was simply no way he could've predicted so much...right?

"I don't like the look of this." Balsk seemed to harbor the very same thoughts, the draconian's hand at the hilt of his sword, "What if Steamhead planned for this? We would've shown up here sooner anyway, and-"

A sound of thunder scattered their thoughts to the winds. Sage! That had been the crack of his gun, no doubt about it!

"Whoa now, big guy." Delta Team's more humanoid draconian spoke calmly from behind the Lord of War, the literal smoking gun still cradled in his fingers, having torn the Rikti's massive gunaxe clean in twain, "You call this security? I gotta say, I find myself disappointed. Miss Rosalind?"

"Right." the were-human smiled devilishly as she caught the hand-cannon, "And Rosie will do. Doh'tzee - you move and I blast a hole the size of your ego into you, got it?"

Hro'Dtohz only nodded, remaining perfectly still as Sage approached. He wasn't quite sure what the odd draconian saw to gain in this, and therefore remained wholly calm. After all, this wasn't necessarily bad. Indeed, it only further proved his point. Humans were dangerous, and so were their allies. They all required extermination, every last one of them, if Rikti civilization was to ever be safe again.

"Rosie, what the hell are you guys doing?" Balsk whispered to his superior as he skidded to a halt beside the were-human holding Hro'Dtohz at gunpoint, having winged himself from the balcony as soon as the commotion had begun, "You know me, I'm all for solving problems with brute force, but I doubt-"

"Sh." Rosalind only smiled, her finger gently on his lips, "You'll see. In fact...I don't know. Can you smell it too?"

Sage, meanwhile, had closed to arm's reach from the Lord of War, running a hand up to the Rikti's neck and applying a bit of pressure to indicate he'd like the Lord of War on his knees. Hro'Dtohz twitched slightly at the contact, but remained outward resolute, complying with the gesture in seemingly unshaken calm. Inside, however, doubt began to form. What was going on here? What did this being hope to accomplish? Moreover, he wasn't comfortable at all having someone this close to him, though he couldn't quite pin down just why. One thing was for sure, though: the touch of Sage downright made his skin crawl.

"Good boy." came over the draconian's smiling lips, and more than just the Lord of War grew somewhat disconcerted as Sage appeared to smell the Rikti's neck, running his nostrils from front to back, at one point even dragging his long tongue across the supposed hero's flesh.

"Thanks." his demeanor changed from a gentle (albeit a bit disturbing) manner to a curt, forceful nature in a matter of mere moments, and before anyone even knew what had truly happened, Sage had dug his claws into the sides of the Rikti's head, then ripped the whole thing loose from the body of the Lord of War.

Appalled shouts from both sides did not cease for quite some time as the decapitated body of Hro'Dtohz crashed noisily onto the floor, just about everyone who'd witnessed the spectacle certain Sage had gone boundlessly mad. Rosalind, however, simply stood there with her smile, the gun lowered to her side once more as she closed Balsk's gaping jaws with two fingers of her other hand. The draconian, however, didn't take much note of that, his full attention fixed on the head in the hands of his more humanoid counterpart.

Nevertheless, the most appalled and surprised of all was none other than the Lord of War himself. Every thought that had been going through his mind until that point sat suddenly at an incredible distance, utterly lacking any importance whatsoever as he watched his body drop away below him. No...no! It couldn't be! He was...he was...!

"By the light of all creation! I am an automaton...?!"

The Unit

The mental murmurs echoed at the furthest reaches of its mind. Hollow, distant echoes of so many individuals, disjointed and forlorn, despite their presence upon the great network their power had forged. Sadly, woefully, they were misguided, lacking purpose, their arguments but fleeting whispers upon the glory they had wrought so very long ago. They had lost their way, had forgotten what their ancestors had strived to do, and thus it came as no surprise that events had come to pass as they had. There simply had been no other way. They were blind.

They were blind to the splendor of Lord Nemesis.

[Quiet your minds.] echoed through the Rikti mental network, permeating the fabric in its entirety, despite only a few members of the Lineage of Science having gathered in the tower, [Let all be calm.]

The Unit knew such proceedings well. Any and all of the populace could partake in the experiences the delegates now broadcast, witness all that their senses could perceive. They could see the many tiers that sat against the walls of the cylindrical chamber, their roundings holding many a Rikti in his or her ceremonial vestment, a myriad of color present to sate the eyes with the joy of vision so welcome in this depressing age of war. And upon the chamber floor, basking in the pale light of the luminous ceiling, stood proudly their deliverance - the one to save them all.

[My brothers and sisters...] Hro'Dtohz proclaimed with arms raised high, the Lord of War standing fully armed and armored before the Lineage of Science to bring them his latest from the war against the humans.

Just as always. Truth be told, the Unit did not care. It probably wouldn't have even if it had been capable. All it knew was its mission, its purpose, and standing there atop the circular balcony that loomed over the proceedings, it could find nothing amiss. Hro'Dtohz called for strength, for unity, to denounce the traitors that had succumbed to the human lies, so immersed in his own salvation that the replacement of several Rikti in high positions had been truly effortless. True, it would not stop the war, but then that was not the Unit's mission. All it had to do was bide its master time, to guide the Rikti toward the glory of Lord Nemesis. Soon they would bask in his immortal light, be a part of his greatness, and-

The Unit ceased its thoughts as its optics detected movement not in pattern with the norm. Why did the shadows wander?

Before the Unit even knew it, the wall behind it broke apart with all the vehemence of a volcano, a massive metal monster ramming its multi-ton body right through the reinforced structures and into the main chamber. In its dive for safety to the side, the Unit recognized the characteristic markings of a transit container. This did not compute. Where had it come from? Stupid question: the container street. But why was it here? Container streets did not malfunction. Moreover, their architects had not held the arrogance to assume so. They carried multiple redundant fail-safes. The Unit did not understand. What was happening?

Below, Hro'Dtohz did not hesitate to bring motion to his legs as the container came for him, crashing to a halt upon the sturdy floor not half a dozen meters from where the Lord of War had stood. The real spectacle, however, came to pass upon the uppermost level, the balcony, for as the Unit fled another container came through the wall, towed by a vehicle the Unit hadn't a single reference to. Moreover, its powerful engines somehow managed to stop the heavy load behind it, bringing the container to a raucous, but decidedly controlled stop. Now the Unit stood even more confused than it had been at the appearance of the first. It knew not what to do. Lord Nemesis had given no directive for such a situation. This was not possible! Lord Nemesis was infallible! This could not be!

Such and more ran through the geared thoughts of the Unit as several strange figures streamed from the container, joined by a duo of truly nightmarish aircraft - amalgamations of cybernetic and organic components that only the most truly twisted mind could have devised - as it stood immobilized, at temping to find some reference to a directive. Thus it stood for a good few seconds, as the strangers spread out, until finally the Unit's backup routine took over: escape and report to its master.

And thus the Unit fled...

"That's not Acid!" Grey's voice sounded stridently over the team's communications link, the bulk of them still inside the container Sah'Teece towed after his racer, "I say again: not Acid!"

"Well, that's not very helpful." Thermoplast remarked dryly as the one they pursued remained nameless, speaking into the channel, "Mr. Grey, do you have any further information concerning this? Who is it?"

"Not sure." Randall's reply came between huffs and puffs, the reptilian forcing him to try and keep pace from container to container - not something a person like Grey stood particularly practiced in, "Looks just like him, but this guy's got a scar."

At mention of this, Sage hastily jumped into the conversation, wanting to know the mark's location, which the tanker promptly described. He turned to the others, "Has to be Kerat. The picture matches almost perfectly. Also explains why the Warmaster kept being outmaneuvered earlier - Kerat's the best pilot I know."

"Damn!" Toy Dispenser finally couldn't hold it anymore, ramming a fist against the floor, then stomped toward the open rear ramp, nearly smoking of frustration.

"The second phase has begun." Block Bot explained as Rosalind inquired what was 'eating' the robotic mastermind, the protector bot speaking in a depressed, fatalistic tone, "Acid Zero has been fully corrupted by the foreign contaminant, and is currently in the process of infecting his compatriots. At the current rate of progression, the whole of his organization will be corrupted within the next few hours. After that, our situation will turn hopelessly grim."

"But...but we can still reverse it, right?" Rosalind wanted to know, somewhat shaken by the dark prognosis, "I mean..."

"Rosie..." Balsk stopped her at that, laying a hand on the were-human's shoulder, "I don't want to, but I have to remind you: we weren't sure if we could do anything in the first place. Even if we manage to catch him alive, we might never get the Acid we know back."

"He's right." Toy remarked despondently from the container's rear, leaning his arm against the doorway's side, "We have to face that possibility."

Rosalind snarled detestingly in response, stepping beside the mechanoid. She glowered at him with vicious determination in her eyes, "Until it's an established fact, I refuse to accept that."

With that, the were-human leaped from the ramp and vaulted onto their container. Sage did the same, just as unwilling to give in this early in the game, Rosalind helping the more humanoid draconian up before they joined the pursuit as well.

"Sir." Toy Bot requested his master's attention before he could respond, the normally so emotionless battle drone stating his findings in an unusually positive light, "There are too many unknown variables to render any reasonably probably conclusion at this time. The most tactically sound course of action is to proceed as we have so far: capture and detain an infected subject, followed by determining how to reverse the corruption. The identity of the subject has little effect on this procedure."

"He's right." Sheldon Wallace agreed, the scientist in him speaking his mind, "Until we know more, we go ahead with the best we have - and that's catching Acid...er, Kerat...whatever. Now, who else is confident enough to jump across speeding traffic here? Because I still haven't figured out a way to fly here, and I think we're running short on time."

Balsk rubbed his left wing at the mention of flying, remembering only too well how the wind had grabbed hold of him as soon as he'd gained a few meters' altitude above their container, nearly ramming him right into another. Apparently, the fields that kept the air moving with the vehicles didn't work equally in all places, and he'd found out the hard way.

"Oh no, don't you be looking at me." the inventor stretched his hands out at the bronze-scaled draconian, spying the sinister glimmer in his eyes, "My balance isn't anywhere near-"

"No, it's not." Toy Dispenser interjected, turning to the man, "But what if you had a set of boosters to help you out? Or two?"

Sheldon's face lit up as he realized what the mechanoid spoke of, running the idea through his head. Moments later, he already correlated with Penny, and their plan took shape. Small Toy and Block Bot locked their limbs together according to the technologists' instructions, as did Toy Bot and Large Toy, each battle drone-protector bot combination forming a platform that by all accounts should be supportive of stable flight within the tunnel.

"Here goes nothing." Balsk swallowed his fears, climbing onto one of the impromptu contracts, hoping that his own avionic prowess would allow this scheme to succeed. He looked at Sheldon again, somewhat pleadingly, "Do I really have to be the one to do this?"

"Your flight experience makes you the best candidate." the inventor retorted a bit sheepishly, giving the SPC's dragonman a shrug, "Plus, you have wings to help you control your course. So yes, you..."

"You do not." Thermoplast's secure tone caught their attention as the SPC Detective climbed atop the second linked robotic construct, preempting any would-be protest, "You said his wings would award control. I have field-based jump jets. Much more precise. They will bridge my gap to his experience."

The draconian smiled at his comrade's straightforward, unworried manner, especially as Thermoplast presented to him his oft touted, "Relax, we're the good guys. It'll work."

"You and your..." Balks started, but the robots had already ignited their thrusters and lurched from the container. A few seconds passed, yet heard no screams of terror, and over the pounding in his chest now focused on gripping tightly to the linked mechanoids, "Okay boys - hit it."

The harsh winds he'd expected kicked up almost instantly, gripping the three as they shot from the container's rear, and shaking them as thoroughly as one would a good martini. Balsk let himself run on instinct there and then, the muscles of his wings operating without conscious input, and despite initial worries quickly managed to stabilize the flight by working in tandem with the robots. Moments later, the unorthodox trio already shot ahead and down the container street, Thermoplast, Small Toy, and Block Bot not far ahead, Toy Bot and Large Toy's engines quickly closing the distance between the two small groups.

Up ahead, across a veritable sea of streaming containers, they could already see Kerat's frantic flight, the reptilian steadily losing ground to his by now respectable number of pursuers. To describe the chase as shaky would've been an unstable account at best, all involved seeking to maximize their speed while at the same time taking care not to slip from their respective massive stepping-stones, or be carried off by the drift between vehicles in their transitions. Balsk was somewhat disappointed - this didn't look anything like what he'd seen in this world's action movies, where people effortlessly leaped from cars to trains to planes whenever the situation called for it, always retaining perfect balance in one way or another. Indeed, this very reality was the reason Delta Team's members worked in pairs or more, securing and steadying one another, making sure the inevitable slip-ups carried no catastrophic consequences.

Kerat, however, had none of this, finding himself in a distinctly lacking position. True, he'd managed to keep himself ahead of the pack thus far, mostly by accelerating the containers he fled to from time to time, but even the most careless observer could see his lead dwindling away by the second, the reptilian losing ground with every tick of the clock. Just as Randall Grey had predicted, the advantage was now theirs, and there wasn't a single thing the Khelari could do to even it out - save one.

"He isn't..." the tanker gasped as Kerat swept a clawed hand across the hilt of his bladed weapon, roaring to the others, "Move!"

The explosion rocked the air with thunderous applause not a second later, a titanic fireball consuming the entire cross-sectional area of the container street's transparent field tunnel, and the two aerial trios only escaped the massive container hulring toward them like an oversized bullet by a few precious centimeters. Balsk swore as he cast the spell, quickly as he could, forging his wings into a protective sheath of metal as they rushed through the fireball. Nevertheless, the searing heat stung woefully against the scales of his hide.

"Everyone okay?!" came Grey's shout over the channel, the tanker pulling Combat Toy back onto the container he'd nearly been flung from. Curses and groans came as his answers, but all in all everyone seemed to have made it with no more than a few cuts, bruises, and a few light burns. Nothing too serious - until Sah'Teece joined the conversation.

"What do you mean we're slowing down?" Grey wanted to know, "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Not as such." the Rikti clarified, distinct anxiety resounding in the tone of his translator, "The container street is slowing all traffic as an automatic safety measure, but..."

The former diplomat's voice faded from Grey's perception as he glanced ahead. At that point, however, he no longer needed Sah'Teece to explain. He could already see it. In the distance, the container street forked in two, branching off into a ring that, according to Cher'tak, ran around the Rikti capital. The tall, brightly illuminated towers beyond certainly confirmed this beyond a doubt for the leader of Delta Team.

"Guys," he breathed into the channel, already setting himself into motion, "we need to move. Now. Go. Don't hold back anymore, just go!"

He stormed ahead, fast as he could, having put two and two together: with the container street slowing its cargo, any container under manual control could rocket ahead that much faster. Worse yet, Grey had puzzled out Kerat's plan - the reptilian had never intended to transition from the street and actually speak to the Rikti leadership. He was simply going to take a container and ram it right into them...!

While Alyssa took in the area, eventually settling on the branch she'd chosen, and Danny floated beside her, Acid made his way up the wide trunk of the tree he'd placed his 'sleeping quarters' in, his claws allowing him to climb the plant as effortlessly as a leopard. He snatched the watch he'd mentioned form his travel bag, then made his way over to the two, his feet as secure against the branches as a human's on flat earth.

"Yeah, the Doc was nice enough to rent the place out for me when he kicked me off the helo." the reptilian explained as he began to disassemble the watch, "I have to admit, he did arrange everything as well as he could. Oh, I do have an actual cabin, but I just use it to keep most of my stuff. Sure it's nice, but everything's cold, and synthetic, and just...blech."

Having apparently found what he'd been looking for amongst the watch's parts (which by now made it very evident the watch was much more than that, the alien-looking architecture of its insides incorporating luminous elements of solid energy, a few objects that looked like tiny crystals, and a thin film of transparent, apparently living neural tissue), the reptilian swallowed the organic film, then set to work on installing a few of the crystals in his cobbled-together device.

"Seriously, I don't know how you guys can live like that." he shrugged, connecting the final pieces, "Even in your cities. Steel and concrete everywhere, pavement all over the place...and I live on a space ship, mind you. Lots of metal. But even there...I tell you, that cabin I technically have, I couldn't live there. Well, live maybe, but definitely not relax, or even enjoy myself. Hell, I couldn't enjoy that place if I were to bone my girlfriend there, and that's saying something. Ah, there we go. Done."

"Now, I'm going to need you to hold perfectly still." the Khelari told Alyssa as he held the device's blue lens to her eyes, reaching to hold her forehead motionless with his free hand, "I'm gonna implant you with a temporary mono shield. Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. I speak from experience..."

"No worries then," Acid chuckled as he led the two to a larger door that sat at the junction of three corridors, "I hate pills. Like eating rocks. And all those side effects? I swear, I saw this antidepressant once: may cause suicidal thoughts. What?! So if I swallow this, I might start thinking about killing myself? I dunno about you, but that wouldn't make me feel less depressed."

As they reached the door, the reptilian produced a key from a pocket, which very snugly fit into the lock on the door that very clearly wasn't a passenger cabin - and as Acid opened the doorway, the very first glance told so without a doubt.

It was an arboretum.

A fairly large one, actually, home to quite a few large, lush trees beneath the glass roof several stories above, looking somewhat like an overdimensional greenhouse. The theme stood tropical, and all manner of bushes, shrubbery, and other plant life had been carefully arranged about the towering trees, leaves green and juicy telling the content tale of expert care around the large woods.

And in the crown of one, near the center of the arboretum, hung a travel bag, draped over a knot near the end of a very large, sturdy branch. Said end, in turn, carried a collection of broad leaves that lay above and against one another, but had not been severed from their stems. Indeed, even the branches and vines holding them together were perfectly healthy and alive...

Well, I certainly hope to see you return soon (you'll come back...they always come back, muahaha ), but for the time being then...

Hero, for your consideration: Thermoplast, a cool and collected marksman with vehement inner fire. Fights with a spirit cannon and fire sword. Took on the form of an AR/Fire blaster in the game. Shots: in-game, as originally imagined. Fortunately very similar, though of course I couldn't get an energy-shell blasting rifle in the game.

Villain, for your consideration: Acid Zero, a far-thinking Chessmaster whose plans span decades. If cornered, fights by shaping energy into forces and solid barriers, a combination energy rifle, and a gun-sword hybrid weapon derived from the Hyperion, though much more practical. Took on the form of a Robotics/FF mastermind in the game. Shots: in-game, as originally imagined. Sadly there are no reptilian costume pieces without spikes and scales, so I had to make due.

The Pilot

His eyes narrowed.

Well now.

He had to admit, he was impressed. There in the distance, at the very limit of his vision down the long, trapezoidal tunnel of the container street, past so many containers speeding along at radical velocities only a dozen or so centimeters above the plating of the floor that rushed by so madly beneath, he saw it: the green-and-gold racing machine storming toward him, another container in tow by some unseen connection. Gradually, but with doubtless certainty, Sah'Teece closed the distance, maneuvering with steady grip around and between container after container, often with no more than a few millimeters' clearance. The Rikti knew exactly what he could and couldn't do with his vehicle, and held it in his grip as in the gentlest velvet glove, secure and steady as the vertical rods of luminance that gave the tunnel its orange hue rushed past pair by pair nearly every second.

"Alright then." the Khelari grinned toothily, drawing the bladed weapon from his back, the unseen field sheath of his jacket dissipating as he began to step backward, toward the front of the container that he stood atop. The heel of his boot came to rest on a contact plate at the wedge of the vehicle's bow, while his clawed fingers checked the safety of his weapon. He had no desire to disrupt the energies that prevented the surrounding air from simply sweeping him off the container; that kept the medium in a nearly neutral relation to the speeding vehicles. True, wind did sweep across them, but decidedly not in the same fashion as non-stabilized air would have.

Time to change that.

The wind kicked up drastically as his heel depressed the contact plate, the motors at the container's rear launching the vehicle ahead and past so many others, and mere seconds later out of the tunnel and beneath the open night sky, the means by which the container street's air sat separate from that of its surroundings unseen and unheard, working silently in the background of their world like the very definition of magic. Indeed, it was somewhat of a spellbinding sight, the orange bodies passing even faster now, and the landscape outside a blur to the eye - a speed demon's fantasy come true.

"Yyyyyeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhh...!" came the shout from just such a one as Mini Bot shot past him at several meters' distance, the gleeful battle drone landing securely on another container not far away.

Only now did the Khelari spy the speeding racer once again, Sah'Teece having boosted their speed up as well. Its engines roared, and the container it still towed now sped along with an open rear ramp, Randall Grey's strong arms tossing another robot in his direction, Combat Toy's inertia reduced to a level suited for the super-strong tanker to throw by the cunning kinetics of Sheldon Wallace.

"Open wide!" bellowed the assault bot's mechanical tone, the Khelari leaping from his container not a second before the hulking machine's fist rammed right through the vehicle's dorsal surface, ripping a gaping hole in the material.

The reptilian cleared the gap to the next stable platform without much difficulty, but the pounding of the heart within his chest gave due indication that the time for games had ended - and as the rock-covered Grey shook the container with his own impact, nothing had ever seemed clearer. Randall used his moment of surprise, flinging a fist at him in a straight punch, the Khelari's rearward bend too slow to fully get him from the line of fire. The tanker's rough fist managed to get a word in edgewise, scraping painfully along the front and top of his reptilian skull.

"What the...?" Randall grunted as the Khelari caught his fall with a rearward roll, transitioning quickly into a leap for the side of yet another container.

This time, however, he missed his mark and slid off the container's top, only catching himself in time by ramming his claws into the vehicle's metal.

"That's not Acid!" he heard the tanker as he pulled himself up, running a hand against the large scar between his eyes, Grey's fist having scraped the bioplast right from his hide in that punch...