"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...!
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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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...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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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...?!"
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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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..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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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...?!
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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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...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
"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..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
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..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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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...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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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..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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"T..." Rosalind cautiously approached the still-crouched Thermoplast, his large, rain-soaked cape having fallen around him like a mantle of white, "T, please don't..."
"Thysthe." came the feeble response, the tears having finally ebbed. Upon the were-human's inquiry to repeat, he in fact did so, speaking in a more perceivable volume, "Thysthe. That's my name. That's who I am. The monster I am."
His voice carried a great melancholy; eyes locked against the lifeless oculae of the gutted reptilian, the man unable to take his gaze from what his hands had wrought.
"Thysthe then." Rosalind continued her cautious stride, though her claws had once more been brought into their passive stance, eventually reaching her place beside the stricken Detective, squatting beside the man as she kept on their conversation. Some time passed, but finally she managed to talk him away from Kerat and toward the edge of the platform, continuing to appeal to his judiciousness in an attempt to persuade him of his heart's true nature - not exactly her specialty, she had to admit, but there simply wasn't anyone more suited for the job right now.
Balsk for one wanted nothing to do with it, swallowing as he reached to his own throat for a moment, the full extent of the damage to Kerat now completely unobscured. He cast a glance to Archlich, but the undead sorcerer only shook his skinless head. Even the wiles of the dark arts could no longer render aid at such a time time, he explained. The Khelari was dead and gone, no doubt about it.
"Damn..." the bronze-scaled draconian heard the breathless tone of Sage, arriving in the arms of Combat Toy, the large assault bot having carried him this far, now releasing the dragon-like being to the whims of the floor.
His leg almost instantly gave way, and only due to the efforts of Penny Arcade did Sage manage to stay upright. Thick bandages now wrapped about a good part of his head, covering one eye, ran diagonally across his chest, and held tight the hole Kerat had sliced into his abdomen. Still more had been set around his tail, right ankle, and left arm, all of them already stained with the dirty brown of coagulated blood. In short, he presently bore a truly pitiful appearance. Nevertheless, this did not deter him from limping to the eviscerated form of one he'd once called friend, deep sadness plainly palpable within his pupils.
"What the...?" said pupils soon narrowed though, Sage having taken note of the odd curl that graced the very back of Kerat's bloodstained lips. Taken decidedly aback, he couldn't help his suspicions, instinctively bending down beside the fallen reptilian to pull his eyelids shut, questioning in quiet monologue, "You're smiling, aren't you? What are you smiling at?"
By now, however, several members of Delta Team had been forced to admit that time still worked against them, and that the Malta Operatives that occupied the aged Rikti complex still required foiling before they could bring their plans full circle. The Lady Grey's approving sigh stood as the final catalyst. With Kerat gone, they had lost all connection to the elixir she required to survive the day - at least for now. Randall assured her that they would do all in their power to remedy this state of affairs, but for now stayed true to her orders and gathered up his team again.
"I..." Balsk answered hesitantly as it came his turn to report, "I think I'll stay a little while. Make sure T...and Rosie get back to a ship okay."
As the rest departed, however, the draconian instead stepped beside his dark-scaled 'cousin', casting but a fleeting glance at his comrades at platform's edge. He knew he couldn't help there, at least not presently. He'd only be getting in the way of Rosie's already tenuous attempts at salvaging the sanity of Thermoplast, and Balsk definitely didn't want anything to go awry. Like most of the SPC, he'd grown sensibly attached to the former bounty hunter (though he was of course loathe to admit so publicly, which would have brought tarnish to his very independent image), and didn't like the idea of the man's possible futures buzzing about in his head one bit.
"So..." he turned his attention to Sage as an alternative, his eyes once more focusing upon the large pair of scars upon his back, despite Balsk desiring very much to look away. His wings began to itch again, causing him to tense their musculature in instinct, the steady rain now a most welcome diversion, "..find anything?"
Despite one of said large scars now hidden away by the bandages that wrapped all about the black-scaled being, Balsk still vividly remembered the first time he'd laid eyes upon them back in the dome chamber, having grown physically sick in his stomach at the sight, a dreadful cold racing up his spine. Being a draconian individual, it stood obvious to him that those scars lay where Sage's wings should have, and bore a truly barbaric appearance. The conclusion looked more than clear to him: his wings had been surgically removed. No, that was too kind a phrase. They'd been ripped from the guy's body, joints and all, in a procedure Balsk had only shuddered to imagine; which had been his first, automatic response to this observation.
"I didn't talk." Sage only answered calmly, his tone dispassionate as could be while the rain ran down his hide, soaking into the bandages to bring to his wounds a welcome cool, "Yeah, I know what you're looking at there. A lot of people do. They caught me, you know. Wanted Kerat. He'd already left with Acid at the time, and through Kerat they hoped to get to him."
Balsk didn't say a word, garbing himself in silence in the stead of voice. He knew well just whom Sage spoke of.
"But I didn't talk." a tear of his own now mixed with the rain that ran over his face, "He was my friend...no, more...and I wanted to protect him. They went for my claws, my teeth. Yanked 'em out one at a time, slow as possible. But I didn't talk. So they wrenched out my wings. Tore 'em right from my back. I must've screamed to high heaven."
"But you didn't talk." Balsk completed the next sentence, the deep bond that had existed between these two only now dawning on him in its full significance.
"But I didn't talk." Sage repeated with a nod, his claws running across Kerat's flayed jacket, "I would've died for them. They didn't like my views, but that didn't change a thing. I never felt different...about any of them. But now...why did you attack me? Why do you cause me such pain? What kind of force could compel you to do something like this?"
Sage cried as well now, Balsk having swiftly realized that he'd switched from addressing him to speaking to the corpse. As he tried to avert his eyes, knowing to what else to do, however, he noticed something in a pocket of the fallen Khelari: a small transparence foil, sticking out just enough to give it a tiny measure of note.
"It's a log." Sage explained tonelessly as he retrieved the symbol-laden foil that Balsk had pointed it out. Still, it took several seconds for it to dawn on him, the draconian finally gasping in disbelief, "It's a log!"
"Can you read it?" the SPC's dragonman wanted to know, "I mean, maybe translate?"
"I think so." Sage hypothesized, his eyes already wandering through the symbol groups, and soon he began to read what stood there in English. In just a few minutes' time, however, he stopped without warning, his voice seeming to have choked his throat from one moment to another.
Indeed, it took him several seconds to regain his composure, his tone a hollow echo as he turned to Balsk, "This part here's a prophecy..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
The Lady Grey
"To say that we then faced an arduous journey that held many a perilous battle would be an understatement of monumental proportions. The clandestine combatants of the Malta Group ardently refused to give in, and far from defeated stood resolute time and again, supported in even greater numbers by the robotic henchmen of their base commander. The combat tactics employed against our forces allowed them unprecedented efficiency, and solely because of the sheer determination of Delta Team did we nonetheless prevail. However, take this by no means to signify that victory stood in any way assured, for though we progressively pushed our way through man and machine who sought to trounce the power of Delta Team with strategy - uncannily effective strategy, but only such nonetheless - the elite forces deployed against us once Malta became less confident of our ultimate defeat proved more than an even match."
"The Delta 4 Titan, predecessor unit to the previously encountered Delta 5, emerged to challenge us in due time, barring entry to the tower in which Our forces had triangulated the position of the Malta command and control center. It struck with all the violence we had come to expect, and we without a doubt held fast, but when its successor unit entered the fray for a third time, defeat seemed all but certain. Unfortunately...for Malta, that was...it seemed their Titan had gained a differing opinion of the metahuman in its prior battle against the Delta Team division led by Toy Dispenser. Citing a corruption of its primary control hardware, the human brain within the machine had taken over after the secondary battle computer it had relied upon became critically damaged in said engagement and could no longer function."
"Of most intriguing nature, however, was that this 'corruption' seemed to be the very same crystalline energy that had twisted both Mr. Zero and Kerat, leading several investigative minds among us to create a number of novel theories regarding the inherent character of this substance - in the Delta 5, it had brought out the true personality of the human brain trapped inside the mechanical monstrosity. Did this mean that Mr. Zero had spoken the truth when he had uttered his statements on the Jade Moon? Candidly, it was a truly frightening proposal. Regretfully, it was not one we could consider at this point in time. Leaving 'our' Titan with support from Alpha Team, Delta Team moved on and into the command tower, and made due haste in reaching the control chamber of the Malta Operatives."
"Of course, who should expect us there but further elite forces of the clandestine organization, specifically a Tactical Operatives Commander by the designation Dune Fort 1-1-2 and a Special Qualification Marksman codename: Whiskey Tumbleweed 3-4-9. The deadly duo threw not a moment to the anticipated threats or banter, instead engaging us the very moment Mr. Grey wrenched apart the reinforced gates of the command center with a veritable tidal wave of resistance and denial. We returned their favor in kind, and very soon yet another instance of pitched combat had erupted, and with no end in sight. Fortunately for us, at one point during the battle, an Operations Officer made a critical mistake, loudly giving order to a fire team set up near another of the colossal, ornate gates that led to and from the chamber - that under no circumstances should we be allowed to pass to an individual he referred to as 'the Commander'. Needless to say, the breach of said gate became an immediate priority."
"Though execution thereof entailed a much greater degree of difficulty than its statement, splitting the team once more in due course granted us access to the chamber within which we now suspected the Commander. While several members of Delta Team, as well as Our person, stayed behind to interfere with the attempts of the elite Malta Operatives at stopping a small number of individuals from striking a breach through the aforementioned gate, said heroes did just that. What they found beyond, however, truly exceeded even the wildest expectations of every last one of us..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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Naught but the shallow luminance of monitor banks greeted the team as they squeezed through the doors. The tall, circular chamber's long shadows seemed to all but reach for them across the alien floor, a radial pattern of stone and metal melded so seamlessly that it bordered on true art. In fact, the entire room carried the arrangement, including the ceiling overhead, which curved efficiently into the darkness of the massive hole that sat at center. At least two dozen meters across, it formed the beginning of a shaft that ran up and into pitch-black darkness, and covered nearly half the chamber. This in turn meant the placement of monitors upon a relatively small section of the far wall nonetheless stood respectably large, their pale-blue luminescence more than enough to give the room a bit of adequate lighting.
Still, shadows and darkness prevailed in many places, especially up against the banks, almost seeming to watch and linger as the intruders came to tread within their realm. To be sure, the titanic statue that sat in part within a niche above said monitors stood as the worst of it, and more than one of them just about physically felt the cold, lifeless eyes of stone cast their piercing stare right through them. It wasn't human, nor was it Rikti. No, the sculpted being had been much, much larger, and more than uncannily resembled one that some members of the group knew quite well indeed.
"Vyachslav?" Toy Dispenser couldn't help but utter in a skeptical undertone, more than confused at the appearance of this here. To him, there wasn't a doubt at what it represented, for the sculptor had captured every last detail of the original in immaculate perfection, giving the stone a striking level of conviction. The original proportions had been kept as well, the statue nearly the size of an F-14, and this created an image that stood most stark indeed. The dragon-like physique appeared in but skeletal divisions, and the true nature of the inspiration came flawlessly to light in its delicate, slim dimensions, the arms and legs decidedly long, even against the lean, compact torso. The long, pointed skull, which somewhat resembled that of a Pterodactyl, spoke truth in its every aspect too, and while the lidless eyes stood doubtlessly as its most foreboding features, the open, lipless jaws that brimmed with rows of long, sharp teeth certainly carried and an air of the ominous as well.
Without a doubt, the statue's entire stance seemed to hold a blatant, tangible threat, perched within its niche, the three frontward claws of its feet curled to grip the edge, the unseen claw that formed the heel stanched as if to spring at any given moment, and the four long, clawed digits of both hands reaching menacingly toward chamber's gate while the lengthy tail sat curled against the wall, as if to facilitate motion even more rapid than the statue's crouching legs. Truly, the only thing that kept Toy form the belief that he now saw its original was the sculpture's lack of wings, a set of long, almost cylindrical pylons laid close against the statue's back instead, connected to the upper shoulders where said wings should have.
Still, why was it here? Sure, judging from its intimidating stance, its placement stood clearly in the purpose of warding off unwelcome guests...but what sort might those have been, all those years ago? Moreover, did this mean Vyachslav's people came from here? Or had been here? Or...stop! Toy's head already spun with too many questions as it was. Even a cybernetic brain could only take so much. As Randall's probing glance caught his attention, the robotic mastermind only shook his head as his reaction, "Nothing. Statue looks like someone I know is all."
"Someone?!" Penny's incredulous tone demanded in a gasp, the young woman having been unable to take her eyes off the stone beast, "You mean that's not a...?"
"Later." Grey raised the palm of a large hand, "We've got a job to do. Keep your eyes out for the Slinger. My guess is he'll throw more 'bots at us any mo..."
"...hear me..." a sudden crackle from the tanker's communicator sounded to interrupt his words, the team quickly listening in as Penny tried to boost the clarity, "...andy, can you hear me? Randy, this is Matt, come back. Do you read? Randy, can you hear me?"
"I read." Grey answered somberly as he spotted the man in the shadows by the monitor banks, his grim gaze locked to the duster-wearing silhouette. Apparently, the figure now realized he'd been seen, stepping forward with a gradual, purposeful gait, "Make it quick. I'm staring down the Slinger right now, and-"
"Randy...Slinger..." the transmission began to crackle again, and Grey could practically see the smile beneath the man's mask now, grumbling into the receiver, "Matt, you're breaking up. Say again."
"...that's not the Slinger!"
"How very, very perceptive." echoed through the chamber in a hollow tone, and the man came into light, tossing his duster aside to reveal the form of but a humble Operations Officer, "I thought I could fool you just a little bit longer. But I suppose all good things must come to an end.. Like your transmission."
"You got it, boss." another voice rang through the chamber, and this one without a doubt did not come from the man, but from the monitor banks behind him. Even as Mad Matt's connection faded into static yet again, Ryat66 ran the spoken words through his memory banks, swiftly identifying the soft, male tone as quite familiar: the creature that was inside the Portal Corporation supercomputer.
"Okay." Randall growled irritably, knowing none of this yet. Still, he kept his calm. The guy hadn't shot yet, and he was all alone. Maybe, just maybe, this meant he could talk him down, "So what now? You. Alone. Against all of us? Not exactly good odds."
"Oh, I very much agree." the Officer merely chuckled in response, "Then again, I could ask the same of you. In fact, I think I will. How do you intend to stop me? I know all the doors, hold all the keys, and there isn't a way in hell you're going to con-"
A sound of thunder cracked through the air as the Ryat Unit's energy beam rammed into its target, flooring the Malta Operative and tearing apart several smaller monitors as it lanced over and beyond.
"It's a double fake-out!" the android exclaimed as Randall's head whipped about, clarifying his reasoning as he charged another shot, "No way that's the base commander."
"What?!" Grey's eyes went wide in response. This was getting way too wild - he already couldn't believe the whole deal with the Hro'Dtohz automaton, and now another twist was being pulled on him?! This was...oh yeah, he wanted to punch something right now. Where was an evil robot when you needed one?
"What're you looking at me for?" Toy Dispenser queried suspiciously at the deadly glimmer in the tanker's eye, but a moment later Randall had already turned back to Sixty-Six, wanting to know that if the Operations Officer wasn't the base commander, then who in blazes was? The console behind him?
"Guahahahaha...!" the disembodied voice laughed madly as it answered in place of the Ryat unit, "Not quite, but you are very close. Not that it's going to matter, you know. As soon as my friend here gets back to his feet, he is going to kill you."
"Oh, so we're a necromancer now, are we?" Commander Cynic spat the remark at the machine with great distaste, the smoldering Operations Officer very visibly down and smoking on the floor there, "Fine, get your pal back...wait a minute, what am I saying?!"
Too late. The Commander had already invoked the law of Murphy. With a mighty spasm, the fallen Officer's rib cage burst apart, and the Vario unit left its cocoon mask behind, sliding its sleek metallic body from the now-useless flesh. The resulting mechanoid stood just a little shorter than its former 'self', but consisted of nothing more than a collection of thin and lanky rods, what passed for its head a short stock with a single, sapphire-blue lens. Despite being covered in blood and gore, the ridiculously lanky robot stepped from the remains of the cocoon mask with barely any effort, its delicate-looking toes setting themselves securely against the bare plates of the floor even as its fingers still rotated to their new configuration. In stark contrast to its decidedly mobile innards, the left-behind body no doubt lay still once more, now resembling a rubbery costume to a frighteningly great extent.
"Hello again." the mechanoid quipped with an underlying chuckle, its now fully active energy shield easily repelling the blasts both Sixty-Six and Cynic sent toward it, "My, how rude. We're going to have to do something about that."
Like a coiled spring, the Vario unit vaulted from floor to ceiling and back down again...and right into Toy's detention field. Judging by the obscenities the mechanoid now spouted, the fight was over before it began.
"Sorry." the robotic mastermind snickered sarcastically, "Reflex."
"Killjoy." Cynic grumbled, placing his blade mace against his shoulder as the team advanced upon the monitor console, "Now what?"
"Leave that to me." Penny huffed with confidence, already manipulating the settings of her suit upon an interface of her left gauntlet. She'd grown a little paler at the whole display, but it only seemed to have made her more determined than before, "They haven't invented the computer I can't crack."
"Oh, I'm shaking in my boots." the monitor banks cackled, "Oh wait...I'm not wearing boots..."
"Then you're going to wish you were." Ryat66 growled as he stepped beside to Penny Arcade, assisting her in prying surface panels loose and jacking into the system while he confirmed that this was indeed not a person using some manner of remote link, but an actual AI program; the very same one that had jammed the portal to the Jade Moon and caused them so much grief throughout the entire expedition.
Penny worked feverishly, knowing well that every second counted, that any moment now Toy might lose his grip on the detention field (the Vario unit had gone downright berserk, blasting energy bolts into the walls of its energetic prison with alarming zeal), or that the Malta right outside might make it past their teammates...maybe even...no, she didn't even want to think about that. She had to focus on this, and nothing else. They were doing their job so she could do hers, and this she kept repeating to herself as she pushed her programming skills to their very limits, fingers flying to strike at the entity within the machinery by means past the understanding of so very many people - but apparently not her opponent.
"Oh, nice try." mocked another giggle, her adversary matching blow for unseen blow, "I do wonder: how long can you keep this up? Me? I can keep going for eternity. Are you prepared for that? I didn't think so. Oh come now, you can do better than that...were you serious just there? Really now, that was just insulting. How do you intend to defeat me if you can't even...?"
Penny only countered with her silence, ignoring the heckling of the entity. Others managed to discount them with the same, stoic detachment. Randall Grey, however, wasn't one of them.
"You." he snarled at the Vario unit in annoyance, large granite slabs once more building over him while fists ground their rocky fingers against one another, "I'm getting really close to just forgetting myself here, so unless you start giving me some nice and simple answers, we're going to see just how resistant you are to being folded into a big pretzel, you got that?!"
The robot, however, showed itself less than impressed, continuing its attempts to escape the detention field - and succeeded. With an elated whoop, the machine threw itself against the tanker, its sharp fingers and toes digging into and through the protective granite shell. Not a moment later, the expected consequences took their toll, Randall's fist ramming the mechanoid off and away like so much filth, beam fire from Cynic, Toy, and even Ryat66 lancing not a second after, striking the still-flying Vario unit and ramming it into the wall. Very much against everyone's expectations, it did not stand again.
"Brilliant." its severed 'head' grumbled with an almost visible roll of its blue lens, "Should've used another type. Oh well. You still can't win. We've taken every precaution. Nothing in the world can stop us, and that includes you."
"Oh yeah?" Penny at last spoke once more, hissing through her teeth, "Then how about something from a thousand?!"
A horrid cry of infinitely many tones roared through the chamber the very next instant, and sparks came flying from the monitor banks with respectable intensity. The Vario unit's vehement objections downright drowned in the cacophony, and even what now came to pass could not pierce the thunderous cascade. The rain of slate, however, certainly caught their attention; the myriad of tiny, rocky slabs raining from above eclipsing so very many sparks that sputtered from the monitors. Penny could scarcely believe her eyes as the statue above her came to unreal life, crashing from its stony skin with a luster of black metal, its lidless eyes ablaze with bright, venomous green while it sent a massive, clawed hands rushing down, in her eyes directly at her.
Frozen in shock, she could only watch as the fingers rammed their way into the very floor she'd stood upon mere moments before, only the speedy reaction of the Ryat unit hurling her to safety in the nick of time. Nevertheless, the collision with a floor that rose up to meet them was by no means pleasant, both Penny as well as Sixty-Six finding themselves off their feet and staring down the ex-statue that loomed so menacingly above them. Indeed, they weren't the only ones, and a long, arduous silence fell like a veil of serenity once the consequences of her actions ebbed away, the monitors now filled with no more than static. For several seconds, the grind of the titanic being pulling its fingers from the gouge it had torn into the floor stood as the chamber's only sound.
"Vyachslav." Toy was the first to speak, pressing his elbows against the ground that had caught his skipping back, his faceless head wearing an almost visible visage of boundless distaste. He'd uttered that word with truly soulless tone.
"No." the reply came from the Vario unit instead of the one he'd addressed, though the being's glowing eyes doubtlessly had focused upon the robotic mastermind, "I am Mnemonyev."
"So I finally get to meet the big brother." Toy Dispenser couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly stood, knowing well that Mnemonyev would regard him as a minimal threat...at best. Nevertheless, his hands stayed copiously distant from his pulse rifle, and a vivid glare to Cynic informed the man to mind his manners just the same, "So then, it's come to this, has it?"
"It has." the downed mechanoid kept on speaking in the stead of whom it represented, "I admit, it is regrettable. You could have left when Acid told you so."
"And leave two billion people to be murdered?" Randall Grey scowled ardently, having been the only one who'd managed to keep his footing, "Over my dead body. Now, I'm tired, so let's just get this over with: say 'that can be arranged' already and bring it on."
The Vario chuckled once more, giving but one word as Mnemonyev's comeback, "No."
"No?" Penny was the first to utter this, the group taken so aback, "You just tried to kill me! That do you mean, no?!"
"No means no." came the cool and calm reply, a smile almost floating in its tone, "You wrecked my network, and with my robots down, Vanguard will very soon take control of this location. But that's alright. I don't need it anymore."
With that, the pylons upon his shoulders burst apart, deploying rapidly into large, skeletal structures of metallic black that greatly resembled the wings of a bat, expanded to the superlative. Not moments later, luminous energy arced between their 'fingers', of the same bright, venomous green, and the wings stood complete, their supporting structures joined by 'skin' of not flesh, but pure energy instead.
"Now please do excuse me." Mnemonyev mocked with the voice of the Vario unit, "I've a rock to get rolling."
Not awaiting a reply, he lurched from the ledge of his niche with impressive speed, spread his wings smoothly in the process, and up the ceiling shaft he went with utmost ease. No one tried to stop him. Not even Cynic. Dogged in his duty as the Commander was, he knew when it was a dumb idea to antagonize an opponent such as this, especially in the middle of leaving you alone. His blade mace only sank slowly to his side.
"I don't get it." Penny muttered in disbelief as she too stood once more, turning toward Toy, who already guided his steps toward the gate, "What...who was that? And why didn't he talk?"
"Another person I...I thought I knew." the robotic mastermind retorted with a miserable glance at the now-offline Vario unit, "As for that...he doesn't talk. Never did. Damn...kind of sad...that's the only thing I'm still sure of..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
The Lady Grey
"We knew not whether to appraise this manner of conclusion with the term of victory. Verily, We still do not. Still, the facts remained quite clear: robbed of their robotic support and impeccable coordination, the forces of the Malta Group could not hold against our own for long. In retrospect, this may not be entirely proper, but in credit to the very necessary relief of pent-up pressure from one Randall Grey, the upper echelon of present Malta forces - aforementioned Codenames Dune Fort and Whiskey Tumbleweed - came to be defeated before long, which coupled with the departure of Mnemonyev all but shattered the command of Malta forces within the Forgotten Sanctuary. Their ultimate retreat followed most anon, and though they did succeed in masking their trail by demolition of their arrival gateway subsequent to their departure, the plans of Malta upon the Rikti homeworld had been, at the very least, crushed once and for all."
"Nevertheless..." a heavy sigh passed from her lips, "Victory stood certainly not as a term to appear swiftly in our minds, and if it had...it no doubt stood most bitter. Despite the safety of our own forces, including no losses on the part of Delta Team apart from robotic henchmen - thankfully not including those of Toy Dispenser; though like all examples thereof, some of them had been heavily damaged facing the elite of the encountered Malta Operatives - the death of Kerat at the hands of the SPC Detective had struck many of us with grave severity. Though this applied first and foremost to the secretive Sage, to whose heart the fallen reptilian had been close as a brother, he stood in the by no means alone. The ladies and gentlemen of the Security Council will hereby excuse the omission of such details at the request of the people most affected. Be aware, any appeals to the contrary shall be denied upon reception and without review. This topic is not up for discussion."
Despite these words, however, the keen observer could well discern that she counted herself very much amongst those of whom she spoke. Still, she continued to recount the facts, "Following the expulsion of the Malta Group from the Forgotten Sanctuary, our forces finally received a little over an hour of reprieve in the form of a most necessary cessation of nearly nonstop combat, which not only gave us time to study the mysterious texts discovered during our time in the facility of unknown purpose - found upon both the beacon torches of the airdock first encountered in addition to several more cryptically printed allegories - but also to investigate the crystalline energy within the rogue Delta Five, as well as make our first attempts to discern constructive meaning from the words of Mneomnyev. Unfortunately, the very initial example thereof, the reconstruction of the stick-like robot that we discovered from captured intelligence had posed as the intermediary of the Malta base commander, proved a most dismal failure, even in the capable hands of Sheldon Wallace and Penny Arcade. Despite the grasp Mr. Wallace held upon even the technology of the Rikti, the means employed by the Third Power, the organization led by Mr. Zero, operated in realms beyond even the knowledge of one such as him."
"Indeed, the once-more evident likeness of mentioned means to what we have come to understand as magic spurred the logical conclusion that we employ just such. Cory Simmons proved more than willing, but regrettably lacked the necessary expertise in the field of robotics to discern anything of value...and Archlich remained distantly cooperative at best. Whether this came to be by request of Toy Dispenser or his own free will, however, this we never did ascertain. Still, one thing stood without a doubt: held he any manner of answers, we would not receive them unless freely given. With yet another lead grown cold, we thus turned to the Lineage of War in an effort to remain proactive, several stronger members of the Rikti populace having by now managed to overcome their initial shock, and now stood by our side, willing to aid with all they had in what we soon made our top priority: the search for the Nemesis Army. With his Hro'Dtohz automaton gone rogue, and Malta no longer available to serve as the greater threat to divert focus, all of us stood certain that the brassen madman would push forward his efforts to subdue us before the remainder of the Rikti could actively support our efforts."
"Little did we know that said effort had been underway for such an extensive period of time, as well as in a manner so differing from the norm, that even those who held a great amount of experience in relation to his plots were taken by surprise..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
"And let this be my first great work of what I have become. A harbinger of aid, a site of refuge from the blight that in our folly we have sewn. To all in need, let this be your shield, let this be your sword, to serve you as it shall serve me, the cradle of my further toil. Let my Sanctuary stand as guard eternal, and hold life safe within its walls, now and for all time."
"Well sure, that sounds very nice and all..." Solid Shot remarked with a bob of his head as he cleaned his rifle, his back leaned against the chamber wall from which Sah'Teece had read the passage, "...but what's it mean?"
"Still trying to figure that out." Cory Simmons replied absent-mindedly, waving the fingers of a hand over the book he held in the other, magically moving the words he'd just added upon another page. He then looked up again, his eyes closely surveying the large tablet of Rikti glyphs before him, though he of course studied it with many more senses than merely sight, "Hmm...from what I can tell, this one is the oldest, so it was probably written first. So if we place it at the beginning of the ones we found so far..."
"...we still have squat." the humanoid robot completed the sentence with a sigh, "I keep telling you, we're better off looking for as many of these story-wall-things we can find, and then putting them in order."
"You're just tired of standing around while I write them down." the arcanist chuckled as he brought step to this feet again.
"Meh, guilty." Solid shrugged, following him after Sah'Teece had taken on stride again as well, "Besides, the way you quote-unquote write just makes my skin crawl."
"You do not have skin." the former diplomat remarked, somewhat puzzled, and caused the palm of Solid's free hand to make resounding contact with his forehead, followed shortly by a sound very close to that of a Clockwork robot ceasing operation.
Fortunately, with this last chamber, this tower had been catalogued as well, which meant that Vanguard now had a map of the entire Forgotten Sanctuary, save of course for the tower that Malta had blown sky-high in response to its Arachnos occupation. While sturdy, leading to the conclusion that it might not have crumbled completely, whatever did remain of the structure now sat deep in the steamy mists that floated between the many towers, and thus far they'd had no time to explore below the level of the fog as well.
"South airdock tower covered and catalogued." the arcanist reported as the trio once more entered the large chamber of the central tower structure that had been Malta's command center, Vanguard having set up their own equipment in the meantime. As Solid handed a datapad to the Lady Grey, who took it with a word of thanks, he took the time to add that the mentioned structure had also held the largest of the Forgotten Sanctuary's two (formerly three) crescent-shaped landing platforms, suggesting it had been some manner of main entrance. In addition, they'd found the same inscription on the beacon torches, and of course the latest passage Sah'Teece had translated.
"Let's see if we can't make ourselves a picture of this place then." Sheldon Wallace rubbed his hands together, swiveling his chair back to face the laptop now before him, the latest information from the data pad already uploaded into the local network. Penny Arcade sat laxly on the same former terminal, no one having trusted the Malta Group's equipment enough to take the risk of working with likely booby-trapped hardware, her suit forming her very own link with Vanguard's computers.
"There we are." Sheldon smiled with satisfaction as the 3-D map he'd been compiling reached completion, the green wireframe representation of the Forgotten Sanctuary clear as crystal upon its pitch-black background, "Now we won't feel like the poor sap in Doom anymore. Now we've got a map. You never got a map."
The map, however, hadn't been the only priority of the exploration teams, and while their primary mission had been to search for any remaining Malta Operatives, combat mechanoids, and the by-now expected Nemesis Army, the number of inscriptions into tablets of stone and metal here and there had been most intriguing indeed, and prompted the desire for a compilation of any they could find. Fortunately, they'd all survived the centuries in clear, in fact truly impeccable shape, the architect of this place having chosen the alloys and stone of its constituent structures with more than impressive wisdom. Even more monumental, however, was the tale stored in the recovered passages, which soon became apparent as Sah'Teece reconstructed several hundred years' worth of forgotten time, turning the wheels of time back to the days when the Rikti homeworld could've been a twin of the Earth that humans knew and loved, instead of the (for them) downright creepy world that it stood as now.
If the former diplomat was to be believed, and of this there came no doubt, it had all begun hundreds of years ago, long after those who'd seen fit to craft the humans of this world into the Rikti of today had departed, when the new civilization had discovered the ways of science. As had been the case with humanity, the magic granted by their gods had been the most important tool until this time, and while it by no means grew any less significant, the advances of magic could never seem to keep pace with the leaps and bounds by which science grew. The day soon came upon which the Rikti stood capable of sending their first ship to the stars, making contact with several far-flung civilizations, and heralding the rise of the Lineage of Science from the Lineage of Faith. The resulting exchange of knowledge only furthered the rampant growth of this relatively new force, and many more wonders of science came to be born at a truly staggering pace. However, with the creation of the Lineage of Science the Rikti had also sewn the seeds of division, forging a rift between those who honored science, the way of the new, and those who held faith in their gods, the way of the old.
As time ran its course, this rift grew ever wider as those upon the path of science forged ahead their progress, dismissing the concerns of the Lineage of Faith as the unfounded fears of those with no imagination. After all, if one did not progress, one would stagnate, and if one stagnated, one was lost. Even the warnings of those they had contacted between the stars, to seek a balance between the ways of new and old, went utterly unheeded, and this time by both sides. Before an intervention could take place, the spark had already ignited the fuel that was the animosity of the two great followings. The war had begun. Technological horrors and the darkest of ancient magics clashed against another for decade upon decade, wholly ravaging the planet. Those the Rikti knew among the stars tried time and again to end the conflict, but their efforts were in vain. Eventually, one by one, they severed their connections, leaving the unheeding Rikti to their fate.
Inevitably, the ways of science held sway greater, for the Lineage of Science could send their technology to battle in their stead, casualties quickly replaced by ever-greater numbers of murderous machines, while the Lineage of Faith relied upon their gods, who in contrast grew weaker with every worshipper slain by the unrelenting enemy. Science had won the war. In the process, however, the planet had become a wasteland. Stripped of so many resources, its lands soaked with the blood of the fallen as well as the toxins of technology and the very vilest of caustic magics, little more than a fifth of its surface remained habitable, and even these remaining lands wouldn't last for long. In less than a decade, the effects of the weapons that had ravaged the planet would render it utterly incapable of supporting any life, leaving behind nothing but a toxic wasteland cut to pieces by the scars of war. Unbeknownst to the Lineage of Science, however, a scant few of the faithful still existed. Led by the wisest of their number, they had fled to the wastelands to seek refuge there. She, however, had no desire to continue the senseless conflict, seeing that there could be no victory in a war such as this; that no matter who 'won', it would be hollow at best.
She saw their efforts to rebuild, but knew it would all be for naught, the resources they needed consumed and tossed to their machines of murder, turned to death and pestilence by the horrors of technology, good for nothing else. She, however, still held the last drops of power from the gods, and she had learned that which neither side had heeded for so long: she had learned to seek the balance. Now she toiled, worked with all she could, fusing the ways of new and old to create a means by which to restore life to her dying world. Upon completion, she launched her tools toward the heavens and watched them begin their long, great work, absorbing the toxins and pollution, cleansing the scourge of war from her world to the best of their ability, and allowing life to bloom anew...though it would never be the same. Slowly, gradually, as life returned, so did the Lineage of Science, now the dominant force upon this world. They had learned as well, and instead of seeking out the creators of the lights that floated in their skies at night, they too began to rebuild their shattered world. It took them many years, but their efforts brought success. Eventually, for the first time in ages, a Rikti ship rose to the stars once more. This time, however, it did not find friend. Instead, it found enmity; animosity, aggression. It had found foe. It had found the Battalion.
Unprepared for yet another conflict, the Rikti rallied all the same, the Lineage of War brought forth to defend their world in this time of need. Valiantly they fought, and for a time they held the enemy at bay. But in the end, it was simply not enough. The wonders of science had finally failed them, and the Battalion stood before their door. Their doom seemed all but certain.
"I could not stand idly by and watch that day," Sah'Teece gave voice to words written so very long ago, reading the text from the laptop's screen, "for my dreams were naught but nightmare, visions of the great catastrophe that would befall our world from the far reaches of the stars. Once more I set to work, forging my tools of cleansing into means to fight a battle. I watch them work, even now, praying that they shall succeed, that my visions come to pass as I have foreseen. I feel my life depart, the last of my power now with my creations, my energy now theirs to wield. I see them fall, but in my visions they stand strong, and even now I see their foes fall faster. Still, I leave this world with dread, for my visions speak of foe's return. I foresee a calamity still greater tear through our skies, and I can fight no more. To those whom heed my words, I speak to you now from beyond the grave. I plead to you: do not let this come to pass. Make use of my creations. Empower them, and in turn they shall empower you. Let my Sanctuary stand as guard eternal, and hold life safe within its walls, now and..."
"...for all time." Randall Grey finished the incomplete passage with solemn tone, his face a mask devoid of all emotion, "Damn..."
"Great." Toy Dispenser only spat sarcastically, "As if my friends getting all [censored] up wasn't enough. Now we gotta figure out how to deal with a meteor."
"Wait, what?" Solid Shot's cycloptix seemed to almost physically bulge at his mercenary counterpart, "Where the heck was there talk of a meteor?"
"Oh come on." the robotic mastermind merely sighed, arms crossed before his chest as he leaned his back dejectedly against a pillar, curled in a most irritated manner, "I've got a rock to get rolling. Calamity from the skies. That's a meteor, case closed."
"The assertion is quite logical." Toy Bot stated in his usual, emotionless manner, joined in affirmation by the large Combat Toy, "Yeah. Besides, the boss is always right."
"But I don't want a meteor to fall on my head." Block Bot complained passively, "I like my head the way it is."
"Then it's a good thing the Rikti have a space fleet these days." Sheldon remarked happily, surprised that few seemed to be sharing his optimism, "Hey, c'mon guys. Once the War dudes get their act together, there's no way a rock's getting the better of 'em."
"He's probably right." Panny nodded in support, "The Battalion attacked, what...a hundred years ago? Considering the pace at which we developed WMDs, a dumb old space rock shouldn't be a problem here."
"I'm not convinced." Toy Dispenser shook his head despite all this, huffing out his frustrations, "I've known these guys a while now, and when they set their minds to something, it-"
He never got the chance to end that sentence. The sudden blare of a low-key alarm klaxon simply let the argument stick in his figurative throat, the robotic mastermind's eyeless sight quickly taking note that all screens showing security camera footage had filled with naught but static...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
The Overwatch
"Our advance had come to stagnate in multiple sectors..." Commander Cynic listened attentively to the chatter of the main channel, the many cracks and garbles of battlefield transmissions giving him a feeling of security. Here he was in his element. Here he knew exactly what to do, "Resistance across the board is heavier than expected. Sector 17 has been forced to fall back to sector 22..."
The Commander passively eyed the liquid rock before his feet though the crimson visor of his helmet, watching the lava gradually flow by. It inspired him, moving so gracefully, and yet concealing such chaos beneath the serenity it held to light. His toes stood only centimeters from the molten stone, supported by the miraculous metal beneath his heels, not a single degree seeping through the ornately woven plating of the large circle that ran around the tower a dozen or so meters to his rear.
"Prepare for third phase." he spoke into his helmet's integrated gear as his gaze rose to the skies, the thick mist of steam above clouding virtually all vision. He smiled. The architects of this place had known their stuff. They'd built the Forgotten Sanctuary not only in the middle of a huge, permanent storm, but also in the caldera of an active supervolcano. The rain from above created a perpetual layer of mists that soaked up a great amount of heat, and from this heat-laden moisture power could be drawn so much more easily than from the liquid rock itself.
Truth be told, however, he didn't care too much about such things. What he held as important were what he stood upon this very moment: the lower layer of ring platforms that ran around each tower structure in this place - or at least the ones that sat directly in the lava and not on the rocky rim of the caldera, connected by bridges much like those above the steamy mists. While he couldn't guess at the purpose of the large number of ring platforms that looked like they should've held towers, but instead stood empty (normally he wouldn't have cared, but the fact that they outnumbered their tower-carrying 'cousins' by a rather respectable factor did at least tickly his curiosity), they gave Cynic a deft advantage in this battle, for with their aid he could move the men and women of the Overwatch unseen. Combined with the intelligence blackout he'd arranged, this allowed him to strike at just about any point of the Forgotten Sanctuary with no warning at all. This was strategy. This was his forte. And he smiled again.
This is my kung-fu. And it is strong.
"Engage." he spoke that word with purpose, his helmet's HUD giving him as much real-time data as the his divisions could gather. By now, the heroes had been lured from the former Malta command center, which gave Captain Salvius the perfect opportunity to take hold of it. Once that had been accomplished, Cynic would state his ultimatum: Vanguard forces would stand down and turn over what they'd taken from the Twilight Men, otherwise the Overwatch would not only destroy the central structure, but also carry out their backup plan. Unbeknownst to anyone else, the Commander had sent most of his Aether Pilots back to the convention hall within the Rikti capital, to capture as many of the representatives as they could. Trigen had already reported in with well over twenty hostages; more than enough for Cynic's purposes.
Of course, the Commander wasn't so naive to believe this plan would survive contact with the enemy. No...he'd carried things a whole lot further, even integrating the very real chance of Salvius' failure. Unlike in the average plot of this nature, however, the Captain stood well aware of this, and had agreed of his own free will. As far as Salvius was concerned, his life belonged to the Overwatch, and he would carry out any order without the slightest question. But whether his part ended in success or failure, one way or another it would create the situation Cynic had drawn up: Vanguard would find out about the Rikti captives and rush to save them in order to prevent re-ignition of their little war. Indeed, the Commander didn't much care what came of it after they'd somehow freed the hostages - only that they'd somehow, in some fashion (maybe even a most annoying deus ex machina) do so (for they always, always did), and that the time it would take them would give the Overwatch the opportunity to 'haggle down' their conditions to no more than a stand-down of vanguard forces here. Once that was done, the Overwatch Commander stood doubtlessly sure that his troops would find some clue, some lead that they'd missed this far, and then he could accomplish his objective.
"Hm?" Cynic's thoughts returned to the here and now as his ears perceived the impact of feet upon the platform to his rear, curious as he began to turn, "You're early. Did some-?"
The caustic, moist retch of metal rending flesh stole the breath from his lungs, the Commander's eyes torn wide as he beheld the pitch-black blade that now jutted from his chest.
"Sorry." he perceived the whisper's source in the corner of his eye: a set of predatory teeth, flanked by reptilian lips that held no scales, "But you're not in the plan. Nighty night."
And Cynic's world went black...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
His thoughts came and went, in a manner most serene. He hadn't expected that. In fact, he hadn't expected much of any of this, subjected to all manner of twists and turns that jumped at him from seemingly nowhere at all, and this had driven his rage right through the roof. Now, however, things felt...different. They felt right. Like they sat the way they were supposed to. Simple. Uncomplicated. Straightforward.
"Yeah." Randall Grey mumbled into his beard as he felt the helmet visor of an Overwatch trooper give way and shatter to pieces around his stone-skinned fist, the crimson shards dancing through the air like rubies, several tapping faintly against the crystals of the large man's own armor, "That's better."
The Aether Pilot at the end of Grey's outstretched arm of course wasn't quite as happy with things, a pained gargle emanating from within his dented helm as the man teetered backward, the momentum of the punch spinning him about as he tumbled to the ground, striking the floor of Rikti architecture, naturally with his face first and foremost.
"Looks like that's all of them." Cory Simmons informed his friend, casting another spell through the gathering hall, just to make sure they really had gotten all the Overwatch here. The operation had already stood as a great risk in all their minds, this new enemy apparently capable of every trick in the book of the classic villain - especially a high quality backstab. Still, virtually all of Delta Team had concluded that their word couldn't be trusted, which meant any sort of negotiation for the lives of the hostages was doomed to failure from the start. Therefore, they'd made the decision: a full-scale attack with all they had there and then, with all the speed they could muster. It had been a gamble, yes, but it had paid dividends. They had won.
"That's what you think." the tied-up Trigen couldn't help but chuckle in near-silent malice. These morons had no idea - by now, even if Captain Salvius had been unable to capture the Vanguard command center at the Forgotten Sanctuary, Commander Cynic had taken their moon base, and from there controlled the way back to their world. If these shortsighted lamebrains ever wanted to see their homes again, they'd bow to the authority of the Overwatch. Bow. Like everyone else.
"What're you snickering about over here, hm, hm?" Solid Shot poked the Aether Pilot's helm with an index finger, repeating the annoying motion several times, until Toy Dispenser walked by mumbling something about a malfunctioning maturity module.
"I am unable to." Toy Bot answered its leader as he gave voice to the thoughts the battle had allowed Grey to let off enough steam to mull over. Apparently, he hadn't been the only one, Toy's most tactically-minded battle drone giving the robotic mastermind what its logic had produced, "If a grand underlying scheme does exist here, I possess insufficient information to execute a proper reconstruction. There exist too many elements retaining unknown connections, as well as an unknown number of variables, conclusion of which is not possible at this time."
"Well, that's just mildly unhelpful." Jake scowled, scratching the white hair beneath his blast goggles, "What exactly did that mean?"
"It's all a Nemesis plot." Solid couldn't help himself, earning dangerous leers from a good few of Delta Team, which in turn caused him to throw up a pair of empty metal palms, "Kidding, kidding...I get it, you're tense..."
"I thought it was funny." Mini Bot said in a cheerfully sadistic tone, but sadly it seemed that most people had already moved on, discussing what they knew in an attempt to piece together just what their opponents were up to, why, and where they'd strike next.
"Well, that's even more than just mildly unhelpful." Jake once more added his own two cents, his mind after several minutes very much occupied with repeatedly tapping his forehead against a nearby wall while the rest of him leaned against it by an elbow held above his head. He looked to the rest of the group, the general lack of progress having spread them in various positions here and there, "Okay, I really should be the very last person to say this here, but c'mon people, we can't give up this easily. There has to be something we missed."
"Like what?" Penny wanted to know, rubbing her own skull with a fist, "We come here, beat up Nemesis, run into Malta, one person gets infected by who-knows-what, so do his pals - I'm still not entirely convinced that giant...machine...dragon...thing was a person, by the way - they take over the Malta operation, one of them gets killed, and when we finally manage to kick them out of there, those losers over there get delusions of grandeur and try to go up against a fully equipped Vanguard expedition with super-powered support. Any way you twist or turn it...by all accounts, it doesn't make sense."
"She's right." Grey agreed with a sigh, his attitude much more calm and collected now, "And we still don't know what the hell the deal is with that rogue automaton...not to mention that I can't shake that nagging feeling in the back of my head that there's something more going on with Sage then we know. Kerat almost beat the guy to death...and then he just left. That doesn't add up either."
Balsk gave a slight twitch at the tanker's words, but he remained silent.
"Right." Toy's fingers tapped against his leg in frustration, the robotic mastermind glancing to Solid Shot a moment, "Okay, just hypothetically, let's say it is all a Nemesis plot. Let's assume for a moment he managed to plan this all out and...Grey, don't look at me like that. Humor me here. Let's say he accounted for everything, or at least the stuff relevant to his 'all your minds are belong to me' plan. Once these Overwatch goons attack, why not strike the moment it looks like one side will beat the other? Nemesis is clever enough to see that time, we all know that, so why not? What advantage could he gain by doing this?"
"Maybe he truly is trying to steal this person from the Malta Group." Archlich brought up for consideration, "It would not be his first time to spark a widespread conflict to achieve some small ends that would be lost in the grand scope of his apparently thwarted scheme."
"I don't believe that." Cory Simmons refuted the argument of his fellow (if rather opposite) arcanist, "There are simpler ways to do that. No, I think he's waiting for something to happen. Some key point in the fight between Vanguard and the Overwatch."
"But it's already over." Penny gave word to what most everyone thought at the mage's last words, waving an arm in Trigen's direction, "These guys are wrapped up, the ones at the Sanctuary are done for...and if there were any back on the moon, they would've attacked while we were busy here."
From one moment to another, all heads turned toward Aether Pilot Trigen, the man having let out a sudden, rather noisy gasp. They didn't even need to ask for him to explain, the man very much smart enough to realize when he'd been used. It didn't take him long to reveal Commander Cynic's plan, as well as his horror that it had not come to pass. At one point, he even inquired if they were absolutely sure the facility on the Jade Moon had not been attacked, and a quick call to Sheldon Wallace duly proved things peaceful.
"Yeah, we're doing just fine up here." the inventor's voice came loud and clear through the team's communicators, "The medics are still chasing Sage around every now and then, but otherwise it's actually getting a little boring. Why, what's going on?"
"We're not sure yet." Grey replied with solemn tone, now respectably concerned as well, telling his comrade after he'd explained the attack that had been scheduled, but never occurred, "Just...stay on your toes for-"
A sudden crackle within the channel removed the need for any further words of warning. The Lady Grey's voice came clear and unmistakably. Nemesis Army forces had begun an attack on the Forgotten Sanctuary.
Nemesis had gotten tired of waiting...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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One Man
"Wakey, wakey."
Oh, how he'd come to hate that voice. That smug, unapproachable tone that yielded to no authority; nay, even went so far as to laugh at it. This was a voice he simply could not stand. This was the voice of Acid Zero.
"C'mon now, I need you conscious for this." he felt the tap of a bony knuckle against his helmet, prying the lids of his eyes open to get a look at the Khelari through his crimson visor, "Oh now, don't look at me like that. I saved your life. Sorry about having to stab you by the way, but I had the feeling you wouldn't be listening to me if I did anything else, and considering your resistance to paralysis...yeeeah, didn't much feel like taking that chance, my dear Commander Cynic."
"Oh yes, I very much know who you are." the reptilian moved out of his narrow field of view, revealing what looked like a row of adaptable seating against a metal wall just a few meters away - the personnel bay of some kind of transport, this Cynic could tell quite easily. Indeed, he didn't much care, much less pay attention as Acid rattled down his personnel file, spending the time doing something that he figured stood a tad more useful: trying to turn his head.
"Oh, I wouldn't bother with that if I were you." the reptilian's demented chuckle reached his ears, "My friend here has a million hands, and he's got a nasty grip. You're not going anywhere. Well, not yet. You can talk to us though, if you like."
"And what would I have to say?" Cynic growled groggily, a sting racing through his chest as he inhaled too quickly. Still, he caught himself in little time, "Ask you what your plan is so you can start a monologue? Yeah, I know who you are too: Acid Zero, Mr. Space Lizard..."
The Khelari did not interrupt as the Commander turned the verbal tables, and about halfway through, the sneaking suspicion that Acid had wanted just this slowly overcame him. So he stopped.
"What, done already?" the reptilian mocked, "Okay. So I see you remember me, huh? No, I don't really want to know how. Actually, it's not impotent - I just wanted to know what we were at, purely out of personal interest. As for monologueing...well, I'd kind of need an overly elaborate evil plan to monologue about first. All I got right now is: blow stuff up. A little too basic for a good monologue, yes?"
"Tell you what I can give you a monologue about, though." the Khelari moved back into Cynic's view, throwing himself upon the seating row opposite the Commander with a truly authentic villainous slouch, "Nemmy's plan. The one that you almost helped complete. Yeees, right now Dr. Brass and the Death Metal Boys are trying to retake Vanguard's base planetside. Had you attacked them on the Jade Moon too, he might've even succeeded. Good thing you didn't get the chance to, huh?"
"Don't roll your eyes at me like that." the reptilian gave a bob of his head, sliding forward into a more traditional seated position, legs apart and hands folded between them as he leaned forward, "Nemmy is not as dumb as everyone thinks. If he really wants something, he's going to make sure no one even has any idea he's after it. Probably the only exception to that is the world...but since that's too big to hide a want for, I'm letting that one slide. Point is: he played you, and you took the bait hook, line, and sinker. Hm, you don't believe me..."
"Well, you are a compulsive liar," a voice came from Cynic's left, sounding a little further away than the Khelari across the narrow bay. However, it did resemble his own quite closely. Was there another Khelari here? Was Kerat not dead? The Commander listened intently, "so you can't really blame him."
"True." Acid answered the unseen person with a shrug, remarking to Cynic, "Fine then, guess I'll have to go a bit further: you are after a World 3 citizen that used to be property of the Overwatch Hallowed branch, and as far as you're concerned still is. Moreover, you know that the Malta Group, whom you refer to as the Twilight Men, had this guy at some point. Sadly, I can't verify this. Big M didn't pay that much attention when he played them for suckers. If he was here though...he ain't anymore."
"And how would you know?" Cynic snarled, scowling deeply, "Just because you managed to get a bunch of intel on us doesn't mean you know everything."
"Actually, it kind of does. Not everything of course, but yeah, a lot. Oh come on, you remember how, don't you? I've got two telepaths - duuuh. One person don't watch what they think," he snapped his clawed fingers, "bam, I know it. Just like that. Yeah, I've been holding back. I've always held back. Always thought that if I did, I might...eh, you don't wanna hear that, do ya? Didn't think so."
"Point is..." Acid's predatory visage curled into a most sinister, tooth-filled smile, the Commander witnessing the faint glimmer of venomous green in the reptilian's slitted pupils, "...that's over. I'm seeing things very clearly now, and I'm done holding back. I'm going to squish Nemmy, the Rikti, and anyone else still on that rock when the time comes. I already offered them the choice of leaving. You, however, haven't had that opportunity, so I'm giving it to you now. You can either go, grab your boys, and leave here...or I can strap you to the front of my bomb so that if they do find a way to destroy it, their heroic nature won't let them because I've duct taped a warm body to it..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
"Seriously though, I'm just getting the feeling we're running in circles here." Solid Shot remarked as he peppered another squad of Nemesis Army soldiers with a raucous volley of highly electrified rounds, virtually single-handedly routing the enemy position down the corridor of this tower of the Forgotten Sanctuary, "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I'm not really getting what even half of all this drama is supposed to be about, so repeated chances to shoot as many bad guys as possible are very welcome things, but I can't help thinking Nemesis needs to get his story straight somewhere."
"Tell me about it." Sheldon Wallace rolled his eyes with a grumble, keeping his robotic teammate up to speed and then some - quite literally, being a kineticist and all - and of course taking the opportunity every now and then to shift the balance of power in favor of their small squad, both by moving a figurative lever's fulcrum as well as very much disrupting the enemy's balance with his gravity gauntlets, replying to the mechanoid with a sigh, "But hey, that's what happens when you get involved in a Nemesis plot."
"I know, right?" Solid retorted in mock enragement, throwing a metal hand in the air, "This is a Nemesis plot, that's a Nemesis plot, everything's a Nemesis plot - how is this guy not stretched so thin that he's come apart by now?"
"Maybe he has." Sheldon couldn't help but snicker, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as his other hand sent something large, heavy, and decidedly random at a Lieutenant.
"What...was that a globe?" the android's cycloptix almost seemed to widen and give a set of blinks, earning a nodding smile from the inventor before he turned his attention back to firing the rifle in his hands, "Cool! I gotta get me one of those. That's just funny."
"You should see Randy's heat-seeking rocks then." Wallace laughed now, "By the way, just out of curiosity...do you think we're not taking this seriously enough?"
"Naaah." Solid returned in a tone virtually synonymous with 'what an absolutely ridiculous notion', "These guys are pushovers. Besides, who doesn't appreciate a little conversation during-?"
"Cease: babble: maddening!" Warmaster Cher'tak's shout practically thundered down the corridor with the same volume as the energy cannon of Ryat66, "Psychological warfare: improper targets!"
Neither said a word to this. They didn't have to. Mini Bot, however, felt a little differently about such things, and Toy Dispenser very nearly breathed a true sigh of relief when a division of Rikti spirited the Warmaster away in a direction different from that their group pursued.
"You know, as much as I hate to admit it," the robotic mastermind told Randall Grey as they set out for the next tower across the bridge that linked it to the one they'd just cleaned out, "they do have a point. The hell's Brasshead up to? He's not stupid enough to take on the Lineage of War and Vanguard here and expect to win. Anything going on elsewhere?"
"Not a word." the large tanker shook his head, the very same thoughts plaguing his mind. This was too easy. Something had to be wrong. What was it that he wasn't seeing - that apparently no one saw? Randall wasn't a strategic genius, but he did know a thing or two about tactics, and right now was the perfect time for Nemesis to attack anywhere else he might have considered important. Why hadn't he? What was he waiting for?
"Incoming aerial craft!" Large Toy announced militaristically, indicating what could be clearly identified as an approaching starship. Larger than the Drop Ships employed by the Rikti, the vessel still wasn't that much more sizeable, but right now that didn't really matter. The jumping point was that several members of Delta Team had seen this sort of ship before: it was the class of dropship Acid tended to employ. Toy remembered well the time he'd asked the reptilian about its design, and why it stood so similar to the UD4L Cheyenne from 'Aliens'. The Khelari had just smiled that toothy smirk of his and told him that the concept of 'a rocket gun that carries stuff' had very much appealed to him; not to mention that he had never liked the traditional design of transports anyway, preferring instead to stuff every weapon that would fit into his, just in case they might one day need it.
"Boss?" Block Bot lured the mechanoid out of his thoughts once more, the dropship setting down in one of the 'suspended bowls' between three towers (the name of course coined by none other than Solid Shot), inquiring pessimistically, "Are we really going to have to fight that?"
"Doesn't look like it." Randall answered before Toy could, his eyes locked on the craft that had already reappeared over the structure's rim, and seemed to be heading for orbit once more. He couldn't help but crack his knuckles, a light smile beneath his beard, "Let's go see what it dropped. Maybe get some answers. Miss Arcade, would you kindly get us the shortest route there?"
"I don't think you'll need it." Penny's voice came back through the team's communications channel, "In fact, why don't you guys head back over here? I think you'll want to see this."
A few concerns came to light here and there about this sudden and very cryptic proposal, but in the end the decision fell in the woman's favor, the rest of Delta Team returning to the command center that - surprisingly - had not switched sides yet again. Apparently, Vanguard's forces were exceedingly skilled at holding into things they really wanted, and with Penny's technical expertise linking their systems back together, they'd really given the Nemesis Army's soldiers a downright nasty beating.
"Wait for it." Penny told them with a very amused smile, two fingers raised to bid patience as she stood facing the CC's ornate entryway, the team having arrived via group recall, "This'll either be funny, or scary. Either way, I think we're going to get those answers you were talking about, Mr. Grey."
Before Randall could say anything in response, the large door swung open in response to a thunderous kick from the other side, the heavy boot that had done the deed still in the air and practically steaming.
"Commander Cynic!" Overwatch Captain Salvius burst out as he saw his superior, visibly riled up and grumbling beneath his visor.
And alone.
"Relax." the Commander gave a diplomatic nod to Penny as he set his foot back down, "I'm not angry at you guys. In fact, you want answers? I got answers. Which do you want first?"
"Duh." Solid's remark came naturally as could be, but when Cynic didn't answer the mechanoid's steadily aimed rifle after a few seconds, he felt he should add, "Why should we trust anything you say and not just arrest you as well?"
"Because I'm leaving." the Commander's gaze locked his men down, asserting his authority, "We all are."
"I believe I speak for all of us when I state that I retain a healthy amount of doubt as to your sincerity." Archlich mannered himself eloquently as he stepped forward, the undead arcanist wandering casually toward the Commander. The tips of his armored fingers clacked against one another ever so slightly as he walked, his feet stopping not a few centimeters from the man as his eyeless sockets gazed deeply into Cynic's crimson visor.
"Well now," his skinless skull turned back to the others after a few seconds, Archlich clearly taken aback, "the man speaks the truth."
"Alright." Toy Dispenser gave a nod that dripped with skepticism, marching toward the Commander as well. He knew he could trust the skeletal sorcerer's word, but that didn't mean he in any way believed in Cynic's motivations. Thumbing at Combat Toy, the large assault bot giving a wave of a powered-up plasma cannon in return, the robotic mastermind told Cynic in a very uncompromising fashion, "You have thirty seconds before I tell him to fry you. Start talking."
"I only need three." the Commander responded stoically, taking a datapad from his belt, but retained it for now, wanting to know if the Jade Moon installation had been attacked before he handed it over.
"Apparently, yes." Penny couldn't help but blink in surprise as she received confirmation from Balsk that this had indeed taken place, and was as a matter of fact still ongoing, of course prompting her to send the question, "Why didn't anyone say anything?"
"Well..." the draconian's tone seemed unsure, and just why became clear very quickly; specifically, when a loud crash, followed by a roar, followed by shouts of panic, followed by an explosion shuddered through the channel, "We were going to call you, but when they came in here they knocked over something that had to do with Sage's painkillers. He's presently on a rampage, and the soldiers are kind of just taking cover and shooting every now and then. Yes, our soldiers. The enemy...I'm not sure you want yo know. Anyway, the situation's under control here...I think..."
"Good." was Cynic's only remark before he passed the datapad to Toy Dispenser, "Now, if you don't mind, we'll be leaving before that gets here."
"I don't believe this..." the robotic mastermind groaned in exasperation, the faceless faceplate of his head almost seeming to have a face that presently melted into frustration. Indeed, only the fact that there wasn't anything convenient nearby to bash his head against kept him from doing so, "I. Don't. Freakin'. Believe this!"
"What, who, when, where, why, how?" Mini Bot's boss suddenly had the battle drone's full and undivided attention, the childlike machine hopping about Toy with energetic attempts to see the datapad - at least until Combat Toy gave his smaller counterpart a 'tap' on the head once more.
"I told you he was gonna pull this." Toy Dispenser preempted any further questions, his tone disbelieving and dejected, especially once he handed off the pad to Grey, "Yeah, it's a meteor - and of course, it has to be the size of Texas..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
The Lady Grey
"The Lineage of War stood quick to react to this new threat, and scrambled all holding craft that could be crewed at the time, including of course our own. The opinion of Toy Dispenser that the meteor itself may have been a trap we did not heed. Unable to make out any manner of invasion force upon or entailed by the rogue asteroid, the decision to destroy it as quickly as possible became accepted in a nearly unanimous manner. In retrospect...we should have known better. Including Our person. Regrettably, the threat this meteor presented blinded us to its true nature, for were it allowed to complete its course toward the planet, it stood without a doubt that nothing could have survived the impact. Not even microbes. The homeworld of the Rikti would have become the barren wasteland it nearly had before, and the prospect that the efforts of those who had saved their planet from the brink stood to go to waste if this collision came to pass spurned our forces to act, needless to say in particular those of the Rikti, fast as they could."
"Our attack was nevertheless an unmitigated disaster. Mr. Zero had not relied upon the sheer size of the meteor as sole its deterrent toward those who sought to do it harm, but in addition installed a coherent energy barrier that completely shielded the weaponized asteroid from our weaponry, both of Rikti and human manufacture. Even the arcane aspects of our assault proved futile against it, the meteor not so much as dignifying our attempts to end its existence with even the smallest amount of shift in course or speed. It was as if it taunted us, mocked the very nature of our efforts, and while we refused to give in, the end result already seemed written in stone: we could not stop it. Not alone."
"Upon these words, however, came the epiphany: the architect of the Forgotten Sanctuary had spoken of such a calamity - and though this may sound strange and macabre, it was from her that we promised ourselves salvation. Delta Team made haste to return to the site, scouring its entirety for the suspected control system that commanded the tools spoken of in the recovered tablets. We stood sure that if these means had been capable of fighting off the Battalion, they could certainly do the same with the meteor. Or at least...so we hoped. Assurance, we knew, was not something to gain there and then, for the passage that had spoken of the creations of the architect falling to the enemy had not escaped our memories. But at least initially, fortune seemed to smile on us, for the search of Delta Team did indeed culminate in the discovery of the control system. Ironically enough, it was the wisdom of not our heroes, but that of a villain who did not even truly stand by our side that brought about its revival..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
Her fists slammed against the table with the force of frustration. Still, the glass-like obsidian surface of the block of stone and metal yielded no response.
"Why won't you work?!" Penny Arcade barked at what may well have been called some kind of screen before her, the wide slab of reflective black set into the wall rising to nearly five meters and sitting more than half as wide. Indeed, the entirety of the large, circular chamber seemed to hold these slabs in regular intervals, the domed ceiling supported by heavy arches just about giving the place the look and feel of an alien cathedral.
"I don't get it." Sheldon Wallace muttered quietly from his corner of the 'table', having removed a side panel to study the crystalline workings inside the strange device, "I just don't get it. This thing's the control system. Has to be. Why isn't it working? Why isn't it doing anything?"
He just couldn't wrap his head around it. What was going on here? There didn't seem to be any damage. He knew what modern-day Rikti tech looked like - in fact, he was a veritable expert on the subject - and this stuff was at least similar enough to make reliable judgment calls...so what the hell was wrong with it?! It was like this junk was mocking them!
"Physical violence: ineffective." Warmaster Cher'tak conveyed his assessment of Penny's behavior, requesting she keep her calm, "Deductive reasoning: necessary. Emotion: causing distraction."
Sheldon sighed. The Rikti was right. They had to focus. Still, it was maddening: Vanguard forces crawled all over the tower, securing it against any would-be attempts by the Nemesis Army to retake this part of the Forgotten Sanctuary (the fight was far from over, after all), not to mention sending technician after technician into its bowels to look for something no one was even really sure existed.
No. It has to exist. There's a defect here somewhere, otherwise this would be working.
Wallace just knew his thoughts stood correct, though he didn't know why. It was just a gut feeling, but one that felt so strong it couldn't be anything less than fact. The only problem was finding it...and that was a big problem. The tower was large, no one could deny this, and...no. No, the solution had to be in this room, somewhere in this chamber that sat just above the structure's very center, filling almost the entirety of the building's circular cross section with its floor space. Hell, the pillar in the center virtually gave it away. This was a control center, no doubt about it. But how to make it control?
"Fools - all of you." the dark tone of Archlich strode through the trapezoidal entryway in the same haughty manner as the skeletal arcanist himself, the dim light of green skies outside adding even greater gloom to his already sinister armor.
"Oh yeah?" the inventor couldn't help himself, "I'd like to see you get this thing going."
Archlich's eyeless sockets turned toward the man, and though his lips had long since disappeared, leaving only the bare teeth of his skull, Sheldon couldn't help but see the grin upon his face as the magus stretched his hand toward him, speaking but a single word.
"Granted."
Before anyone even knew what happened, thunder clapped and a bolt of oddly-hued lightning cracked across the chamber, sparking into the table directly beside Sheldon, the shocked inventor scrambling back with a string of hasty curses, already setting to return the favor when Penny's shout to stop arrested all motion in the room.
"It worked." she quietly added all that needed saying - for in the bottom right corner of the slab before them, a pair of neon blue glyphs now glowed without fail.
SYSTEM READY.
A moment later, they shifted from left to right, and from glyphs to words. Jake only scowled at the occurrence, mumbling a distasteful, "Magic...feh."
"Do not be so quick to judge." Archlich warned, but not in a personal manner. Interestingly enough, his tone conveyed caution much more than threat, "I too had looked down upon this combination. However, this was before I saw it for what it truly is. The Architect did not merely add science to magic or vice versa. No. Her creation is something entirely different. Something even I cannot achieve. But I have seen things like it. I have done my part. It is time for you to do yours."
"Right." Penny gave a nod, turning back to the slab-screen-mabob...and found herself quite unsure of what to actually do now, "Um...anyone got any ideas?"
"Sure." Solid Shot's shoulders shrugged humorously, the grey mechanoid leaning lazily against his oversized rifle, "Just tell it there's a giant rock of doom headed our way that we need to be not headed our way."
"What?!" had Toy Dispenser had eyes, they likely would've popped from their sockets now, "You have got to be kidding me. Listen, I'm all for simplicity and common sense, but do you seriously think if we just say 'there is a giant meteor coming this way that will wipe out all life on this planet', it'll-"
DIRECTIVE ACCEPTED.
A sudden hum of energies cut off the robotic mastermind, the slabs all about filling with squares of light in seemingly random patterns, strange streams flowing between them in ways that confounded virtually all but Cory Simmons and his undead counterpart...who were, in turn, just as lost to the tower's workings as everyone else when it began to speak.
"If you bear witness to this message, then know of my gratitude." the ancient voice of the Architect reverberated through the chamber, a phantom of her countenance appearing before the table, "You have restored the walls of my Sanctuary, empowered my creations. Now they will empower you. I bid you well. May you prevail."
INITIATING PRIMARY SEQUENCE.
A slight tremor shook the chamber floor, quiet thunder rolling in from all about. A long, drawn-out claxon sounded, almost like that of a foghorn, repairing in a slow, gradual alert pattern. Once more, a voice spoke, but this time it was not that of the Architect. Instead, the synthetic female tone of Vanguard's system echoed throughout the Forgotten Sanctuary, its warning words ringing all about in hollow speech, "Attention all personnel: the meteor has accelerated. Commence final evacuation immediately. Repeat: commence final evacuation immediately. Meteor impact in eight minutes."
And things just wouldn't stop. Several of the slabs wiped their displays, instead showing projections of the planet and its continents, including several sets of orbital data that cycled too quickly for most to make out. The dots of light that formed a second sphere around the globe, however, stood clear and for all to see, resembling the nodes of a soccer ball's skin - a skin placed protectively in orbit around the Rikt homeworld.
Randall Grey gave a satisfied nod. Now he understood. The Forgotten Sanctuary wasn't the Sanctuary the Architect had spoken of. It was the entire planet. The 'walls' were her creations: the converted clean-up satellites, placed about the Rikti world like a guarding shell, to ward off any that might threaten the safety of her people...and now, thanks to the magic of Archlich, they were active once more.
"Mr. Grey, come in." the Lady Grey's voice had come into the team's communications channel, "What is happening? The meteor is getting faster, and we have detected a tremendous energy spike on the surface of the planet. It seems to be attracting the asteroid, and all our efforts to slow it are failing."
"I don't think we need to worry about it anymore." the broad-shouldered man returned, a smirk in his beard, "We found the defense system. It's a little...strange, but it looks like it'll get us clear."
He smiled. Things were finally looking up. Even Acid wouldn't be able to stop a whole shell of defense satellites. Dormant ones yes, but now that they were active again, the tables would turn - and active they were.
Or so he thought.
PRIMARY SEQUENCE MALFUNCTION.
What?
UNABLE TO CONNECT TO SATELLITE NETWORK.
Randall's eyes grew wide in horror as he watched the dots of light bout the globes fade away in rapid succession, one by one, each unceasingly following another.
ATTEMPTING TO RECONNECT . . . FAILED.
ATTEMPTING TO RECONNECT . . . FAILED.
ATTEMPTING TO RECONNECT . . . FAILED.
ATTEMPTING TO REROUTE THROUGH SECONDARY STATIONS.
UNABLE TO DETECT SECONDARY STATIONS.
UNABLE TO DETECT SATELLITE NETWORK.
SATELLITE NETWORK NO LONGER EXISTS.
ABORTING PRIMARY SEQUENCE.
That was right...the records had told of her creations falling to the Battalion. Had they really destroyed them all? Sheldon swallowed the lump in his throat, turning to his friend, "...now what?"
INITIATING SECONDARY SEQUENCE.
"Hold on there." Toy Dispenser urged for patience with the gradual downward wave of a hand, "Miss Architect obviously wasn't stupid. If she can build something that can speak English two seconds after being turned on, I'm betting it's nowhere near out of the game."
How right he was.
UNABLE TO DETECT ANY REMAINING SATELLITES.
SOLUTION: DEPLOY MORE.
LAUNCH SEQUENCE INITIATED.
A staccato of thunderous detonations echoed from outside, vanguard soldiers on the tower's exterior ring holding their collective breath as the bridges connecting this structure to the others vanished in fiery caterpillars, dropping away into the mists of the lava-filled caldera below. However, an even more astounding sight was what emerged from there: a trio of cylindrical extensions, spaced evenly about the tower, rising from the steam with a gradual, yet steady purpose at the end of thick, triangular supports that held them firmly to the structure, yet kept them at a distance at the same time. The Rikti could hardly believe their eyes, recognizing the things despite their stone components, despite their centuries of age.
Storebeam thrusters.
00:05
It explained so much.
00:04
The sleek, cylindrical forms of the towers.
00:03
The empty rings Commander Cynic had observed in the caldera.
00:02
The tower didn't hold a satellite.
00:01
It was one!
00:00
In stark contrast to a rocket launch, the tower rose smoothly, majestically toward the heavens, propelled by three thick streams of pure-white luminance that sent the mists below to scatter. The lava boiled and bubbled even more vehemently than before, the locks that had anchored the tower for so long now releasing their charge as it set its sights toward the sky, thundering up and out of the caldera only seconds later.
"Okay." Solid Shot remarked, inspecting his hands and feet, as if to find the very noticeably absent push of g-force that he had expected, "This just rocks."
"For once, I completely agree." Toy Dispenser placed a hand on his counterpart's metallic shoulder, "Block, I'm assuming we don't have to worry about pressure loss, right?"
"I think so." Block Bot replied in his usual moody manner, but with a strangely positive undertone, confirming more of the mastermind's suspicions regarding the Architect. It would've been just silly to launch the people who'd turned her work back on into space to suffocate - and he knew that when the normally so fatalistic protector bot thought nothing bad would happen for once, he was usually right. Indeed, the barely-detectable energy field Small Toy found encasing the tower just seconds later left not a doubt about it.
And still they were wrong.
A raucous snap echoed through the entire structure, through bone and marrow, metal and wire, like the sound of some overdimensional circuit breaker throwing out a connection. Not an instant later already came the alert, both visible and audible this time, the tower having hijacked the female electronic synthotone of Vanguard's system.
"Launch sequence malfunction."
The sensation of falling made itself known.
"Primary capacitors depleted. Switching to backup capacitor feed."
It did not stop.
"Backup capacitors depleted. Switching to emergency capacitor feed."
And would not cease.
"Emergency capacitors depleted. Main propulsion offline. Firing emergency booster engines."
Another tremor shocked the structure as several ventral sections blew out, streams of bright-yellow energy lancing into the clouds all about and finally arresting the fall that had persevered for too many terrible seconds.
"Warning: emergency backup power in depletion zone. Rerouting all available power. Warning: total engine shutdown in six minutes."
"Don't look at me." Archlich retorted with detached manner as a great many eyes turned to him, "It should have had more than enough energy."
"He's right." Sheldon confirmed, in tandem with Penny already studying the diagram of the tower that had appeared on one of the slabs before. He ran his finger down the schematic, "Something's screwing with the power transfer. Could be anything from a busted line to a corroded written spell somewhere. We're going to have to search the whole tower, and do it fast."
"I don't think we have the time for that." Penny shook her head, redirecting the inventor's attention to the table, "There have to be more backup paths. They're just not connected. That's why the automatic isn't using them. If we can reroute things manually, the system'll take back over."
Randall gave Cory a questioning glance at this, but the wizard only shrugged. The magic the Architect had employed was beyond him as well, and it was anyone's guess which approach would take what amount time. All Grey knew was that he needed to make a decision, and he needed to make it now.
"Wallace, Miss Arcade, you get on this end." he quickly had a basic plan, pointing them to the table, "Archlich, Simmons: see if you can find any magical interference. Toy, Solid, and anyone else who can scan for energy and such: look for a leak. The rest: help me keep the soldiers calm. Also, look for anything else that might be suspicious. It might still be a Nemesis plot."
God, I hate that guy...
And the seconds ticked by...
Nearly a minute in, no one had found anything. Or at least, nothing they could fix. Tension across the tower rose with every swing of the pendulum. In the main chamber, an inventor and a test pilot worked feverishly, taking apart, disconnecting, restructuring, switching, and reconnecting. No dice. For once, they didn't have any indicators on where to go, how to proceed, and this made even the rock-steady Randall Grey nervous. Already fearing the worst, he'd ordered the present Vanguard troops to set up the portal generators they'd brought with them. Of course, this by no means meant he'd given up. Randall still very much tried all he could think of, headed where he could, where he thought anything might be amiss. He ran through the corridors, checking chamber after chamber, hoping desperately that he or someone else could discover what had gone awry.
"Hey, Grey." Solid's voice came across the channel, much to his surprise, "I think I found something. Get over here."
He changed direction almost immediately, knowing that when this mechanical hero spoke seriously, it was important, and probably dangerous. Still, he had no idea just how right he was until he reached a respectably sizeable entryway on the tower's lower ring, the trapezoidal opening large enough to accommodate a fighter craft. But its size wasn't what seemed so threatening. It was the pitch-black darkness - unnatural darkness - and the heavy sounds Randall heard within. Then Solid Shot came flying, sailing from the shadows in a ballistic arc that ended at the tanker's feet.
Feet. Yes, the steps of feet were what he heard. And he knew those steps well. He knew, knew even before Mnemonyev finally came to light, the large being advancing on the heroes as a predator. Even while the tanker still helped the grumbling Solid stand, the two retreated before the massive creature, the mechanoid calling for more backup now that he had the chance. They knew they couldn't stop this guy alone, and the large coil of cables in his massive teeth of metal gave no doubt they'd have to. This was it. This time, he'd bring it, of this Randall Grey stood sure, stood focused. He barely perceived the five-minute warning. But Mnemonyev only dropped the coil and stretched a finger behind them.
Oh no, my dear Grey. It's not me you should be so concerned with. It's them.
Sure enough, the howl of engines sounded from behind, not one, but two of Acid's dropships coming over the ring's rim in tandem, hovering menacingly just out of reach. With a rush of wind, Mnemonyev spread his wings again, taking to the air with a decisive beat, joining the craft at the center of their formation. Like them, he just sat there in the air now, letting the image sink in, each beat taking him up a tad before he once more sank a little, trying to prod he heroes to stand down.
You know, it's not too late. You can still leave.
Randall only answered with a scornful huff. Solid's rifle clicked. For endless seconds, the three of them remained exactly where they were. No, they weren't sizing one another up - they stared each other down. Each side knew that by now, each knew where they stood, and each knew they would not stand down. This time, the decision would fall, this time only one could win.
Very well.
As Mnemonyev ascended, so did the dropships, splitting formation and moving into attack position to begin their runs. Missile chains cycled, rack covers retracted, munitions were prepared. The first loosed a volley. A series of explosions rocked the tower, one after another. The second loosed a volley. Another staccato shook the structure as detonation followed detonation.
But the tower held. Constructed in part of stone, the fields that maintained its integrity very much still operated. It would take more than a few missiles to dispose of it. The problem, however, was that the dropships without a doubt had more. Again one fired, missile detonations shaking the structure to its core. Again the second joined, rocking the tower with a demolition ladder. Tracers, beams, bolts, and all manner of other firepower lit up the clouds as Vanguard and Rikti forces fired back, joined on foot by those of Delta Team, those capable of flight quickly seeking to engage the circling dropships on their own terms...but to no avail. All manner of incoming fire disappeared before it even touched their hulls, structural tears hurling the offensive means out of this continuum and into hyperspace, where they could do no harm.
"Warning: total engine shutdown in four minutes."
Balsk, however, took this as a personal challenge, the bronze-scaled draconian rushing skyward, quick motions of his wings allowing him to skirt about the missile strikes, intending to get close enough to use his sword. With a roar of power, he split his broad blade in twain, and close he got, with all his strength unleashing a vicious assault against a dropship, striking again and again, each time with more vehemence. Still, he seemed to have no hope, the dropship finally taking offense enough to counter, and deployed the turret beneath its nose, quickly charging a particle beam. Balsk barely had time to block before the bright-blue lance speared him against the tower wall.
From the main ring, Randall gave his orders, observing the battle as best he could since its aerial nature denied his direct involvement. Thus his attention turned to Mnemonyev, who didn't seem to be doing much at all. But like others of the team, he knew different; he knew that the circling being was the attack's coordinator, and the fact that he paused every now and then to physically point out the next spot to attack only gave the tanker further evidence. The final piece, however, came from Toy Dispenser, the robotic mastermind having arrived at the same conclusion, but taken it another step - his entourage chasing dropships, he had quickly discovered their transparent cockpits to be empty. In other words, Mnemonyev controlled them directly, and in his opinion through his primary method of communication: telepathy. Thus while Grey redirected forces to chase the creature through the skies, those bound to ground went to work to cut his connection to the dropships, constructing jammers from what they had available. They wouldn't last long, but if Penny and Sheldon couldn't get power back to the main engines, it wouldn't matter anyway. Technicians built and spells flew as the sky filled ever more with fire, the attack relentless and showing no signs of cessation...until they got it right.
"Warning: total engine shutdown in three minutes."
Mnemonyev seemed downright shocked as the jammers went up and on, the dropships ceasing fire virtually at once. The being that controlled them, however, decidedly did not, locking eyes with Randall Grey and diving at the tower, his target clearly the fragile jammers they'd only now gotten running.
"Not on my watch." the stoutly built tanker took off with a good bit more speed than one would have expected, especially from a man that now coated over with large slabs of granite, rooting himself to the stone of the ring platform with all the resilience he could muster, and stretched his large hands toward Mnemonyev as the creature speared down right at him.
It was over in mere moments, those moments a mere blur, Randall's monumental strength not only stopping the metal jaws from clasping shut on him, but using himself as a fulcrum, hefting Mnemonyev over and about, ramming the much larger being into the tower wall with all the force of his flight. The structure shook again, and though Grey refused to release his adversary, Mnemonyev proved more than flexible enough to wind his jaws back out of the tanker's grasp and get a bit of distance, now on the ground before him.
Impressive. Let's see you do that again.
"Sure." Grey grunted under the strain of the expected, but still frighteningly fast strike, barely able to stem the tide and keep the teeth from clamping shut, "You know...I've had...just about enough today!"
With a mighty twist, he wrenched Mnemoyev's jaws sideways, causing the whole being to kilter over to his left in response, shaking the tower yet again, but this time with a tremor of triumph. Unfortunately, it would be his last, Mnemonyev taking another approach not a few instants later and simply cutting the ground out from under Grey with a terrifying swipe of a massive clawed hand, propelling the man, along with a sizeable chunk of stone and metal over the rim of the ring. Not moments later, the jammers their efforts had so painstakingly put together already met their end, and the dropships resumed their assault, Mnemonyev taking off again as Grey sailed into the clouds below - or rather into a large chunk of flying metal.
"You are not a hero." Combat Toy declared in a rather strange fashion as his foot thrusters kicked into overdrive, taking Randall back up to the tower, "I defeat heroes. I do not save them. You are not a hero. I defeat heroes..."
The tanker couldn't help but smile, though said smirk quickly vanished once he'd linked up with Toy Dispenser once more, the rest of the robotic mastermind's crew already after Mnemonyev again, and the mechanoid himself seeming more than concerned with the situation.
"He's holding back." he told Grey coldly, analytically, "Randall, he's holding back. He said he wouldn't. Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong here."
Too late.
In the main chamber, things sat remarkably quiet, Penny and Sheldon working feverishly, reattaching this here and that there, then shoved the last cell back into place with an empowered hum. Small lights came online again, and once more power flowed to whence it should, all spells and systems once more in their prime.
ALL FUNCTIONS NOMINAL.
MAIN ENGINES TO POWER.
The storebeam thrusters once more poured out their streams of energy, blasting the tower skyward and into the high atmosphere, venturing rapidly beyond the reach of the attackers. The clouds soon fell behind, and from the view of the rapidly approaching meteor, a new star came into being in the heavens, setting an immediate collision course. But this was not the Architect's intent, her satellite instead sending streams of golden light into the void, an uncountable number of man-sized drones streaming for the asteroid like the fluid fingers of some titanic organism, surrounding and enveloping the rock outside its shield perimeter, and then finally dove in. They pierced its shields in swarms, each drone striking the surface and embedding itself deeper, line upon line, series upon series digging themselves into the surface of the wayward meteor.
And as the streams ebbed away once more, a myriad of lights gradually covered the entire rock, the glowing mass growing brighter and brighter with each new addition - and once all had arrived, they became even brighter, forging from gold the purest white, their simultaneous detonation a miniature sun...
That tore the skies...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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The Unit
Harken, for the skies, they sundered, and tore with thund'rous rage in envy at the splendor of their better, unable to accept the magnificence that belonged in the celestial realms: the glory of Lord Nemesis.
"Hold." his commanding perfection spoke with such flawless calm as it raised a hand, halting the march across a platform of the Forgotten Sanctuary, glorious visage looking to the skies to give them pause with the might of its expression. For there, high beyond the clouds and amidst the stars, there gaped the tear of worlds for all to see, the sundering's sheer might having ripped away the veils that might shield the eyes of those from the horror it spewed forth. For there, upon the very edge of this world, now peered the lusting eyes of one whose vast knowledge may have even rivaled that of the insurmountable Lord Nemesis.
Rularuu the Ravager!
He came from the skies like greed incarnate, and his forces rained upon the land like a plague of scripture. Strike, however, and most surprising all this found, that they did not. At least not yet. They awaited his command. Nay, all awaited his command - the twisted creatures that composed his hordes, the brave soldiers of the Nemesis Army, the stern fighters of the Lineage of War, the magnificent thinkers of the Lineage of Science...and even the misguided valiants of the Lady Grey's Vanguard, who stood gathered upon their tower as the Ravager descended to speak unto them his purpose.
"Hear me..." he proclaimed with force that shook the very air, and hear they did as he made known his ultimatum - but they were not its sole recipients. Nay, the Ravager proclaimed across this world and the next, the brave men and women of the Nemsis Army relaying to our glorious leader what now transpired upon Primal Earth, where the Ravager's announcement had appeared upon every manner of receiver, an uncountable number of monitors and screens proclaiming his words to what had to be the majority of both worlds' populace. Indeed, even if it stood not so, the reporters of the public service by now passed his words on to where they did not reach before, the scene of Times Square in the spell of Rularuu the Ravager making rounds about the Earth like a beam of light.
"...and as you have set me free and made me whole once more, I cannot help but feel a measure of gratitude toward you all." the Ravager's words trembled through both air and aether with ungodly force, "However, I cannot overlook the numerous pas efforts to keep my prison whole. Thus. I make a compromise with me. I make humanity this offer: interfere no longer, and I shall spare your world. Remove yourselves from the path I take, and our ways shall never cross again."
the magnificence that was Lord Nemesis commanded move. We did obey, though we did not know why. But we knew better than to question the infallible, and move we did, with pride and vigor, with strength to lead us where alone none of us could ever hope to tread. Moreover, however, he commanded listen. Thus we did. And we heard.
"I require nothing further from humanity." the Ravager spoke with honesty most great, answering the concerns of Vanguard's champions. He had no need to lie, "Only that you do not interfere as I consume this world. This does not make you glad? Do consider: the Rikti, the scourge that brought so much pain and misery to you, removed forevermore...and all you need do...is nothing. Your greatest enemy, gone forevermore, never to return to threaten you again, nevermore to cause you suffering and hurt. This does not appeal to you? No...it does. I feel it in your hearts, it does. Your hate for them, your desire to see them...pay."
"Take me by my word, for I speak true." the Ravager rose toward the skies again, "Interfere not, and I shall take their realm, remove your pain, and leave yours bereft of my touch, now and forever. Oppose me yet again, and I shall consume your worlds both, to the very last of their essence. Your hearts, they cry, your minds, what do they say? Speak now. What say you...?"
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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Far from the bustling center of the spiral grandiose, cast into the distant reaches of heavens' arms, so detached form the turmoil of the core, there sat a small little sun with a small little planets, naught but specks of dust in the abyss. Yet one of them, that third tiny rock from the little yellow sun, a shining blue world that from a distance looked so serene and tranquil, had for the past several thousand years been one of the noisiest places in the general vicinity, its inhabitants never stopping, never resting, always squabbling, always barking, always shouting this, that, the other, never giving the illusion from above a single chance such that it might be real. Today, around six billion of the little beings stood dotted on the surface of that blue world, that planet with appearance so serene, but nature so very not, and just as always it floated so very stoically through space. But though it was the same, today was also different - oh, so very different - for that little blue planet far out in the spiral of the Milky Way.
For it had never been so silent.
Across the land and across the seas, those whose voices had filled the skies so long stood quiet, in their cities and their homes, in their streets and in their squares, there they stood to contemplate the Ravager's proposal. Even in the normally so hectic midst of New York City, upon the crossing paths that formed Times Square, below the massive monitors that broadcast the countenance of Rularuu, the crowds stood silent and unmoving, the sheer magnitude bearing down upon each and every one of them.
Some wished acceptance. Others spat upon the very notion. Still others had no idea what the bloody hell was even going on. But one thing they all held in common, one thing now united them, one thing made them all the same - human, mutant, Kheldian, hero, villain, or Joe and Jill Everyday - their silence. Should they speak? Should they voice? If they did, would others follow? Or would they hate them for their choice? Did they have the right to condemn another people to all-but-assured genocide? Was it really their decision? And if so, what consequences would their decision draw? Would it be accepted? Or would it leave them most divided? Might their world not even have need of the Ravager to sunder? This none knew. So they stood. So they waited. Waited for that sign; that guidance.
Upon the homeworld of the Rikti, the situation stood much the same, though for different reasons - and there, it did not last. Here, it began with one thing, and turned into another, a certain burly, bulky, bearded, and decidedly besieged tanker wrapping the large fingers of a hand around the dented arm of the nearest wrecked HVAS unit he could find, and in one smooth motion hurled it at the Ravager, holding no heed for his great size. He didn't care. He'd fought big things before. He was ready. Regrettably, it seemed that others were not, both Sheldon Wallace and Cory Simmons reaching to grab the arms of Randall Grey while the HVAS stopped dead in the air, locked down by a detention field.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa..." came the familiar voice of Acid Zero, the toothily smiling reptilian emerging from the passage beneath the Ravager's floating form, an outstretched hand laxly urging for calm with a most passive wave...though the robotic henchmen at his side spoke volumes to the contrary. He let the Vanguard mechanoid crash against the ground once more, the heroes holding onto Randall shaking their heads to the leader of Grey's Army - they'd had nothing to do with that.
"Randall, Randall, Randall Grey." the Khelari mused in his devilish grin, "Seriously...what's the matter with you? There you guys help us with all this stuff, and then you just wanna go an'...ruin the ride. No. Not cool. Putting the big guy here back together was a lot of work, and getting him to play along with this even more so."
"My servant speaks the truth." the Ravager thundered from above, "Great efforts have been made, and they will ensure the safety of your world. You would truly waste them?"
"Yeah, that the boss said." Acid added, thumbing up at the gargantuan being, "So c'mon already. Get outta here. Think of all the Rikti've done to you - and not just to you. Everyone. The people in Paragon. The people in Kingdale. Your friends. Your family. They've all suffered because of the Rikti, haven't they? Don't you wanna get back at 'em? Seriously - just go. It's a simple matter of the survival of your species. No one's going to think any less of you for following the very first instinct your God put into you. Just let it go. Give it up."
Another chuckle echoed forth. But this time, it was not the Khelari's. This time, it hung morbid, ironic, sardonic, and unequivocally human - for it was that of Randall Grey.
"Never." he growled, teeth clenched, "Not even in the face of destiny, damnation, Rapture, or Ragnarok, never blink, never flinch, never compromise, never surrender."
Brutal determination burned within the hero's eyes, the innermost flames of his very soul. At that moment, he cared not for the thoughts of others, not for the objections of his friends, neither wizard nor inventor, and paid no regard for those who knew of Rularuu's true power; for even if the Ravager had mashed him to a pulp right there and then with one great fist would Randall Grey not have thought any different in regard to his decision.
"Randy, please..." Cory attempted to stall him one last time, "Trust me when I say this is not a good idea right now. We don't have a way to fight this thing. Randy, you know. I don't like it either, but right now there's nothing we can do."
Sheldon found himself in related straits, and saying that the team's rest did not would have been an outright lie. But the one who not stood torn most of all was none other than one who not a week ago would have wasted not a thought about such a seemingly most logical decision: that the only verdict was vengeance, and that the Rikti should pay for what they'd done, their reason for doing it be damned. His insides churned, and he almost felt physically sick just by being here right now, wishing he'd never made the trip back from the Jade Moon. He thought he'd had no fear to hold, but seeing this, this cold, uncompromising reflection of himself...that simply scared him.
"Then you leave me no choice." Acid sighed, slipping a shell into the chamber of his weapon, the bladed rifle giving a satisfied clack, "I'm just going to have to remove you then. Sorry Randy, but the Rikti have to go. They aren't innocent, you know. There is no such thing as the innocent - only those who aid the cause, and those who stand against it - and those who stand against it have no place to live."
"No!" the Dark Dragon finally burst out, still-bandaged form limping to the front, and if it hadn't been for Penny he very likely would've topped three times over, "Ace, don't do this! Please, don't throw away everything you've worked for!"
The Khelari only threw his head back in psychotic laughter, eyes flaring with the venomous green iridescence of the unknown vile element within his veins, "Oh my dear Ken, what's the matter? Can't take looking in the mirror? I'm only doing what you wanted: following your way. With us or against us - weren't those your very words? The words of your hate?"
He knew not what to say. It was true. Like so many humans hated the Rikti for their actions, so did he the Concile for theirs. Worse, it had been necessary - his hate had taken him in when there had been nothing and no one else, allowed him to go on when he had naught but to cling to, taught him how to sleep, how to eat, how to breathe. It had imprisoned him, absorbed him, and he hadn't even realized, even all those years back when Acid had told him that very thing; that one day, his hate would suffocate the man.
"Not anymore." he shook his head, chasing away the shadows of the past, "You were right, and I was wrong. I know, it's a stupid way to put it, but I just don't know how else right now. I should've listened. I can see that now. Please...fight it. Bring back your old self."
"Alright." the Khelari gave a solemn nod, then thrust the muzzle of his weapon dead at them all, "Rikti or both, yay or nay? Choose."
"Yes." Rularuu shook the air above, "Choose now."
The Dark Dragon closed his eyes. He couldn't believe this. How...how could it all have gone so wrong, so utterly awry? For the first time in a long time, he just didn't know. He just didn't have an answer. And for the first time in a long time...he felt a tear run down his cheek.
There was a sound of thunder.
"IIIII saaaayyy naaaaaayyyyy!!!"
"Nemesis?!" half the team gasped as all whirled about, the balls of no less than three dozen Storm Rifles crashing against the side of Rularuu the Ravager, prompting an instant rain of soldiers from the skies - and indeed, at the brassen form on none other than Lord Nemesis.
"Fight for me, my Nemesis Army!" the metallic man bellowed to the skies, his fist raised to challenge come what may as gunfire erupted all about, "Fight for all of us!"
For a moment, Randall but stood there, mouth agape. Was this really happening? Was all of this really happening? When had the universe gone mad and just not given him the memo? Moreover, when had he gone mad? Now that it had started, now that what he had wanted to do with every fiber of his being just seconds before, now of all times, there came...doubt. Was this really what he should do? After all, Nemesis may have been spoken of as the greatest mind of all time, but even assuming this wasn't just another of his ploys, did they really stand a chance? Wasn't he just condemning humanity if he chose to fight? Did he even have the right to make such a decision? Was his responsibility not the saving of lives? Should he truly not give in here?
"No!"
It was so distant, so far away. But at the same time, it felt so close, so tangible.
"No!"
He felt it. He felt it in his heart, his soul, every cell, every molecule. He felt their resolve, their united cry, despite them being a whole universe away.
Humanity!
"No! No! No! No...!" they chanted in Times Square, they chanted in Beijing, they chanted in all corners of the world that the message of the Ravager had reached, and no matter the distance between them, they stood as one. Someone had started it. They didn't care who or how, but someone had, that was all that mattered. Now they had someone of like mind, and with every passing second they found another someone, then another, and then another, until the whole mass of someones found itself without a plural, people swept up in a single drive, as a single entity, proclaiming loudly their answer to the skies, to the universe; to Rularuu.
And that small blue world was no longer silent.
"All right." Grey cracked his already stone-covered knuckles, "Bring it on..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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The Lady Grey
"At this point, the ladies and gentlemen of the Security Council are likely to wonder why none of you have any recollection of these matters. Rest assured, We shall explain in due time. To be precise: now. Yes, the root cause was indeed Lord Nemesis, but very doubtfully in the manner you currently suspect. Relating to the matter at hand, all of us quickly realized this was a battle that could not be won upon a physical front. Rularuu, a being you may know to wield power beyond the imagination of many a man, merely mocked our feeble efforts to do him harm, let alone defeat him, not even personally engaging in the battle into which he pitted the forces of his armies against Vanguard, the Nemesis Army, and the Lineage of War. At the time, this of course made for a rather hopeless situation, but in retrospect it seems that the overconfidence of Rularuu very much worked to our advantage."
"Allow Us to restate at this point that we held no physical means with which to defeat this foe. However, such were neither required, nor do they to our knowledge even exist. As such, the idea of using the metaphysical against him was the natural next step, but nonetheless we had no means thereof, for while several personnel - including Sheldon Wallace, Penny Arcade, and Toy Dispenser - toyed, no pun intended, with the idea of using the combined might of the Rikti mental network to carry out an assault on the mind of Rularuu, the proposal itself was found flawed by Warmaster Cher'tak, as even the entire Rikti populace simply stood insufficient to provide the required magnitude of mental strength. It was at this point that we today owe a...measure of gratitude to Lord Nemesis, as his research provided the basis necessary to realize the suggestion of the Dark Dragon to include the humanity of our world in this scheme as well."
"As you have likely by present guessed, the plan worked. However, it was by no means executed with any means of ease, drawing consequences in both the form of the sacrifice of the Hro'Dtohz Automaton - a fact that Our person is still not entirely confident was not premeditated in some form or fashion by that...ahem...excuse Us - in addition to a severe drain upon the psionic substance of the entire Rikti populace as well as, at least so We believe, all intelligent beings on our Earth at the time of the execution, including the ladies and gentlemen of the Security Council. Granted, We know such a tale is difficult to accept, and may very much seem akin to a convenient excuse in regard to the failure of this expedition. You are correct in interpreting these words as meaning that Lord Nemesis was not brought to justice, as per the original parameters of the mission, nor that a lasting peace with the Lineage of Science could be procured in the aftermath. However, each and every person in this room, and furthermore every man and woman who stood as part of the expedition team can attest to the truth of what We have disclosed to you this day in the forms of both..."
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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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...
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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