NATION

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The Day the Sky Broke [M:Closed:Attn Xiscapia]

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]

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Xiscapia
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Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Thu Sep 08, 2016 3:49 am

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers...


Even as she settled Jan didn't miss the change that had come over half of her fellow representatives. Where Alyana looked much the same as always and Falean was smiling pleasantly the atmosphere had subtly changed around the other three. Shuji was perhaps the most clear, ears falling a little and tail twisting anxiously as he took his place, clearly distraught at having been ignored. Kitsune could be very easy to read when they wanted to be, she reflected as she glanced down the table to her less expressive fellows. Yanji's eyes had narrowed at Faeden and her nose was wrinkled like someone had just shoved a handful of shit under it, where Tavin was staring appraisingly at the SIN representative. No one had missed the familiar way that Faeden had greeted him, and that made Jan wonder just how extensive Tavin's connections were -and how extensive Faeden's were. If those two team up they could be a real danger.

As the document came up she peered at it like the rest before her attention was drawn back to Faeden as he introduced his fellows. She didn't know much about the Gythian Star Republic, and judging by the lack of reaction beyond polite nods the same went for the others, but Herak got rather more attention, and not only for his perpetual glare. They all knew the Hetaevans, brutish, uncultured giants that they were, once at odds with the Dominion, but now apparently the allies of the successor state. How much had the SIN changed in the years gone by? With friends like the Hetaevans, she had to wonder if she'd even recognize Necrisis.

"The SIN, as successor state to the Necrian Imperial Dominion, formally lays claim to eight colonies on the border of the KEX. Two of these colonies, however, have declared independence from all governments, however we have gather information that says the KEX has sent ambassadors to Arh'ath and Tor'korla in efforts to sway them into the Empire. As these sovereign states declared independence from the Dominion while it was still under control of the True Throne - named as Prince Savik - we have no true claim to them. We merely ask that your representatives cease and desist until our own government can send representatives to allow a fair justication for all concern."

There was some glancing up and down the table to see who would speak. Jan took a breath. If Muldritch had been present he would have taken the lead, so she was obliged to do it on his behalf. She leaned forward and clasped her pale hands on the table. "We assembled have no direct say or control in the affairs of the Imperial Diplomatic Corps -that's a matter of the Emperor's administration- but we can certainly pass along your request to them."

"The other six colonies - named as Kor'laesha, Fel'tethra, Alno'kae, Fel'narsha, Yra'nortara, and - were abandoned by the False Dominion, ruled by The Usurper. As a rogue state with no true claim to the Blood Throne or its people and policies, these colonies were never abandoned by the Necrian Imperial Dominion, only its false representatives.
Now, my Empress understands that it is unfair to expect you to turn over these colonies, given our forced absence. But our sovereign nation still has claim to these territories, three of which were founded by the NID and the other by co-operation. She expects that co-operative governmental policies be restored within six galactic months and is willing to have such governance slowly return to the SIN over the course of a year."
He smiled at Alyana and then Shuji. "I am authorized by my Empress to reach conclusions today, without further preamble. You're rebuttle?"


More shifting around the table, but there was less hesitation this time around. "It's a somewhat ridiculous claim," Falean said, though his voice was mild. "You can disavow the actions of the Dominion under the man you call The Usurper, and I would hope that the Solar Imperium would. But the people of these colonies, and the Imperial government, can't be held responsible for what happened to it. You could claim that the true government of the Dominion was something other than The Usurper's, but the colonies were abandoned wholesale, by every entity but the Kitsune Empire. There was not even an attempt to retain them -I know on Yra'nortara the senior government outright left our world with no structure in place for continued rule. Even if there was more than one NID government, any and all of them abandoned us."

"I can only speak for Fel'narsha, but after the rule of the last Necrian Thane over us my people have made it very clear that they will not welcome back any such rule," Yanji said. "They spoke, and their voices were fire and blood."

"They could speak in a different way, I think," Jan took the segue as it presented itself, glancing at Yanji before turning to Faeden. "Regardless of what we may personally think, Ambassador, we did not come unprepared. The Imperial proposal is thus: on each of the six colonies a referendum will be held as to whether or not the residents there wish to accept joint Necrian-Xiscapian control of their system. The exact dates will be of Imperial choosing, under Imperial supervision, though the SIN will be invited to send inspectors to verify the legitimacy of the votes. Concurrent to usual Imperial law the referendum will be open to all non-incarcerated voting-age residents of the colonies who have been living there for the past four years, regardless of whether or not they are nominal Imperial citizens. The issue will be decided by majority vote. Those which vote in favor will have their representatives then negotiate with the Solar Imperium on behalf of the Kitsune Empire for the exact terms of the joint control."

She paused to take a drink from the cup of water provided to her, allowing her proposal to sink in even as she did her best to ignore how Harek was scowling at her.

"From what I've been told, the Empire simply cannot hand over control of any of the six colonies to a state that it regards as having given up its rightful ownership of them when it left those systems to fend for themselves. More to the point, to do so without taking into consideration the desires of their people would be foolish, and the Empire also has its obligations to its own citizens living in the colonies, and to its interests, both of which must be protected. Thus, this compromise, out of respect for the relationship it had with the old Dominion. However, it cannot and will not cede territory wholesale which it has governed for years; like it or not, the Empire has a responsibility to all six of the colonies now. So it looks to reach a mutually beneficial agreement with the Solar Imperium that can suitably welcome it back onto the galactic stage."

Number 6, Adjacent Office...

The room that Second Lieutenant Warukashi and the senior staff of his platoon and their militia counterparts occupied wasn't much different from the chambers that the delegations were now meeting in right next door. That was good in case something happened since he knew exactly what to expect, but in reality the tod already knew what he was expecting: nothing would happen. Nothing ever did at these kinds of meetings. Even the NFP threats were just that, bluster to remind everyone that they still existed in places other than Tortuga. The typhoon made things slightly more interesting, but it really just boiled down to being a generally miserable "day" on Fel'tethra.

Or maybe he was just feeling a little too sympathetic for his troops outside. Certainly the rest of his staff didn't seem to share his feelings, he thought as he looked across them. His cathar medic was busy chatting up the pretty Night Guard militia radiowoman at one end of the table, his forward observer was telling some kind of war story from his days on Ranus V to his Necrian counterpart, and even his quiet tod communications/guard was talking shyly to the militia medic as they shared a cigarette. No doubt they were happy to be out of the elements. Only his platoon sergeant, that grizzled kitsune, had chosen to stay out in the rain with one of the rifle squads. When he came back in then it would be his turn to go out, Warukashi decided. Let the PSG dry off and get a hot drink while he checked the roadblocks and got to be with his soldiers. I'd rather be out there now but one of us has to be here in case something happens. Yeah, right.

Then a presence tapped into his neural link. Lieutenant, this is the Government Center Network Security Admin, the civilian vixen's "voice" sounded in his head over the network. I wanted to let you know that we just experienced an intrusion. The pattern matches that of a known local hacker called "Fucking Genius 33245."

Warukashi scowled. Is there a threat to the delegation?

I don't believe so, Lieutenant. The intrusion looks like its a vector for viruses and spam, the kind of thing that'll brick a machine with porn or otherwise be annoying, but harmless as far as physical security goes. I'm working on isolating it now and I've already contacted law enforcement to go out and bring her in. We've experienced this kind of thing before. Shouldn't be much of an issue.

Understood. Should I inform the delegates?

No sir, I don't think that's necessary. There is one thing though. Kind of odd. Usually I can trace where she's coming from, what backdoor she used to get entrance to the network, but this time I'm not seeing it. Probably just means she got better at it, but still.

What are you saying?

Well, normally that would be indicative of an attack coming from inside our network, by someone who has physical access. That's not possible, though. If she was here we would know about it. So there's really no cause for alarm. I'll track her down eventually.

Keep me updated.

Yes sir.

Sighing, Warukashi pushed off from the wall he'd been leaning against and waved over his Necrian fellow. "Talon Commander. Network Security Admin just contacted me. Apparently there's some local wannabe hacker trying to make trouble on the government sites here. Shouldn't be anything to worry about, but keep an eye out just in case. Some punks might decide they like the idea of doing some real vandalism to go with their digital vandalism or something."
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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Necrisis
Diplomat
 
Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Thu Sep 08, 2016 1:35 pm

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers


"It's a somewhat ridiculous claim. You can disavow the actions of the Dominion under the man you call The Usurper, and I would hope that the Solar Imperium would. But the people of these colonies, and the Imperial government, can't be held responsible for what happened to it. You could claim that the true government of the Dominion was something other than The Usurper's, but the colonies were abandoned wholesale, by every entity but the Kitsune Empire. There was not even an attempt to retain them -I know on Yra'nortara the senior government outright left our world with no structure in place for continued rule. Even if there was more than one NID government, any and all of them abandoned us."


Faeden nodded. "I would expect no less, Master Di'toc. However, attempts to retain the colonies were made - and thwarted. The Usurper controlled all aspects of what one would expect of the Dominion, but with no true claim. Entire fleets were abandoned, I might remind you. However, these fleets still served as sovereign True Dominion representatives, and by my reports, were brow beaten by overwhelming Kitsune military presence into falling in line. Others mutinied and returned to the Dominion to be prosecuted for that mutiny. To say that your colonies were abandoned with no structure left in place tells me that the people ignored Necrian common rule, in which the highest ranking military structure is to take command in the event of dissolved governments. That the Kitsune Empire is the military and then government you adopted speaks of secession, not abandonment. Such acts, are of course and as you well know, Master Di'toc, traitorous to the Necrian people." He stood as he spoke, pacing calmly around his side of the table to the center of the crescent, where he stood, passively taking them all in. "And I know that a thoughtful and powerful government like the KEX would never place weak willed, traitorous men and women in the positions of High Power."

"I can only speak for Fel'narsha, but after the rule of the last Necrian Thane over us my people have made it very clear that they will not welcome back any such rule. They spoke, and their voices were fire and blood."

Faeden's eyes flicked to her like a predator, but turned to Jan before he could speak as she took control of the delegates. His smile as she spoke was not an encouraging one.

"They could speak in a different way, I think. Regardless of what we may personally think, Ambassador, we did not come unprepared. The Imperial proposal is thus: on each of the six colonies a referendum will be held as to whether or not the residents there wish to accept joint Necrian-Xiscapian control of their system. The exact dates will be of Imperial choosing, under Imperial supervision, though the SIN will be invited to send inspectors to verify the legitimacy of the votes. Concurrent to usual Imperial law the referendum will be open to all non-incarcerated voting-age residents of the colonies who have been living there for the past four years, regardless of whether or not they are nominal Imperial citizens. The issue will be decided by majority vote. Those which vote in favor will have their representatives then negotiate with the Solar Imperium on behalf of the Kitsune Empire for the exact terms of the joint control.
"From what I've been told, the Empire simply cannot hand over control of any of the six colonies to a state that it regards as having given up its rightful ownership of them when it left those systems to fend for themselves. More to the point, to do so without taking into consideration the desires of their people would be foolish, and the Empire also has its obligations to its own citizens living in the colonies, and to its interests, both of which must be protected. Thus, this compromise, out of respect for the relationship it had with the old Dominion. However, it cannot and will not cede territory wholesale which it has governed for years; like it or not, the Empire has a responsibility to all six of the colonies now. So it looks to reach a mutually beneficial agreement with the Solar Imperium that can suitably welcome it back onto the galactic stage."


Faeden made no effort to disguise his bristle, but quieted himself. "Master Muldritch has trained his Second well," he said, inclining his head. "Regardless, Mistress Jawyvern, the Solar Imperium can agree to these terms. It would be unfair to expect the citizens to accept new leadership without consulting them. It does not matter as to who has rightful claim to the colonies if the people do not agree. However, the Imperial's idea of urgency is a bit... lackluster. We must request that their timetable be slated to start within the month, the whole process to be done in six. This is not something we are willing to budge on. The mere fact that Her Majesty is willing to bend this much for territory that rightfully belongs to the Imperium is concession enough on our part."

Number 6
Cyberware Suite


Cori had managed to enter the outer limits of Number 6's firewall. It was basic stuff, meant to keep corporate spam and junk out of the system. The next few would be harder, more specialized.
But the Necrian, Faeden, had given her a tool that would make it easier.
Her digital form realized on the cyberscape, forming and distorting to suite how her conscious mind would best receive it. It wouldn't change any programming or even register on any monitoring database or operator. It was simply a filter for her digital mind to realize the scope of her world.
As data became rolling fields and files became houses, Cori took a moment to finger the 'key' Faeden had given her. In her mind it was golden, twisted and gnarled. A skeleton key from ages passed, forged before the fall of the Dominion. It would fit a single lock, on a single door and no other.
Faeden had told her what to look for. It would be a Necrian data-structure, old and likely unused.
The young Yddrian had seen a lot of Necrian architecture during her meetings with Faeden. She had studied Dominion data streams, lattice and core filing systems for weeks before this - absorbed enough information to now be considered an 'expert' on Necrian data systems.
He had warned her that this assignment could kill her. That even if she succeeded, she would never be allowed to return to the Archon.
But she would be the first among his agents, the first Yddrian to be allowed into the Necrian secret service.
Cori smiled at the idea and made sure her form now depicted a tall and beautiful Necrian woman, well endowed and draped in the finest and most revealing gowns she could imagine.

Her cyberscape resolved from rolling hills into forbidding landscape, with high walls topped with fire and giant security systems scouring the land.
Cori was not afraid. She was above them here. More than a simple AI or synthetic brain.
She was a mind made formless.
Crossing the lands in moments she found the towering black monolith that she knew had to be the old Necrian data core.
The Xiscapians would have installed their own network, but wouldn't have completely destroyed the Necrian one, needing it to build off and keep the local populace in the loop.
Not to mention some pull from the higher ups to leave this little known backdoor ajar.
She pressed the skeleton key into the lock and smiled with glee as the wall dissolved before her.
Before she entered, Cori turned back to the landscape behind her and waved a hand imperiously. Three virus packets - likewise similar to a notorious Xiscapian Maxellian hacker known as 'G01iath696' - that, in her minds eye, giant worms with glistening fangs and tentacled maws. They started to attack the security systems and firewalls, drawing all attention to them as she slipped into the old, defunct data base, making her way into the main systems of Number 6.

Number 6, Adjacent Office


"Talon Commander. Network Security Admin just contacted me. Apparently there's some local wannabe hacker trying to make trouble on the government sites here. Shouldn't be anything to worry about, but keep an eye out just in case. Some punks might decide they like the idea of doing some real vandalism to go with their digital vandalism or something."

Talon Commander Darian Fel nodded, running a hand through his dark red hair. "In this weather?" He glanced out the window. "My friends weren't lying about Xiscapian dedication to hedonism." He shot Warukashi a grin before sobering again. "Not to worry, Sir. My boys and girls aren't afraid of a little rain. We'll pull a few units from the blockades to run perimeter patrols. Maybe I'll join them," he said, rolling his shoulders, flexing the armor a little. "I'm going stir-crazy in here. You've been stationed here the longest. How do you cope with this meetings? Political nonsense and delegates all day..."
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Thu Sep 08, 2016 9:49 pm

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers...


"I would expect no less, Master Di'toc. However, attempts to retain the colonies were made - and thwarted. The Usurper controlled all aspects of what one would expect of the Dominion, but with no true claim. Entire fleets were abandoned, I might remind you. However, these fleets still served as sovereign True Dominion representatives, and by my reports, were brow beaten by overwhelming Kitsune military presence into falling in line. Others mutinied and returned to the Dominion to be prosecuted for that mutiny. To say that your colonies were abandoned with no structure left in place tells me that the people ignored Necrian common rule, in which the highest ranking military structure is to take command in the event of dissolved governments. That the Kitsune Empire is the military and then government you adopted speaks of secession, not abandonment. Such acts, are of course and as you well know, Master Di'toc, traitorous to the Necrian people."

Falean just shook his head. "Of course we adopted the Empire. We weren't left with real military forces, Ambassador. At best, we had the Reactionaries. The dregs. No sane people were going to hand rule over to officers who can't even protect us. So yes, we chose the Empire over them. Most of us, anyway," he glanced at Yanji.

"We weren't all lucky enough to have a choice," the woman said. "Some Reactionaries decided they had more loyalty to the government than the people."

"And I know that a thoughtful and powerful government like the KEX would never place weak willed, traitorous men and women in the positions of High Power."

Remember to whom you are speaking, almost came out of Jan's mouth, but before she could do more than part her lips he continued.

"Master Muldritch has trained his Second well. Regardless, Mistress Jawyvern, the Solar Imperium can agree to these terms. It would be unfair to expect the citizens to accept new leadership without consulting them. It does not matter as to who has rightful claim to the colonies if the people do not agree. However, the Imperial's idea of urgency is a bit... lackluster. We must request that their timetable be slated to start within the month, the whole process to be done in six. This is not something we are willing to budge on. The mere fact that Her Majesty is willing to bend this much for territory that rightfully belongs to the Imperium is concession enough on our part."

Jan hesitated. She had suspected this would happen, and it was up to her to read between the lines. "I think that the referendum could be held quickly, but I and the others assembled here are not authorized to agree to any specific dates or durations at the moment. I can probably get an answer to your request but it will take time to come to an agreement with the Imperial Administration. More than one day would need, I'm afraid," she gave him a tight smile. Sorry not sorry, you old bastard. "I'm sure your Empress will understand."

Number 6, Adjacent Office...

"In this weather? My friends weren't lying about Xiscapian dedication to hedonism."

Warukashi was the picture of unamused. "If that's what passes for hedonism."

"Not to worry, Sir. My boys and girls aren't afraid of a little rain. We'll pull a few units from the blockades to run perimeter patrols. Maybe I'll join them."

"Good. If my platoon sergeant gets back in time I'll join you," his tail curled as he glanced at the door, but the other tod did not appear.

"I'm going stir-crazy in here. You've been stationed here the longest. How do you cope with this meetings? Political nonsense and delegates all day..."

"Same way you cope with any other boredom on duty: you remember your discipline, keep active, and hope to the Emperor that it'll be over earlier than expected," he gave a rueful smile. "This isn't so bad, though. Nice surroundings, low threat, not much to do. It's better than a bunker on Arel, put it like that. I'd take a climate-controlled conference room over people trying to kill me in the desert any day."
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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Necrisis
Diplomat
 
Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Fri Sep 09, 2016 2:33 am

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers


"I think that the referendum could be held quickly, but I and the others assembled here are not authorized to agree to any specific dates or durations at the moment. I can probably get an answer to your request but it will take time to come to an agreement with the Imperial Administration. More than one day would need, I'm afraid. I'm sure your Empress will understand."


Sorry not sorry, you old bastard...

Faeden smiled at her, a brief hint of malicious intent behind his eyes before it reverted to the calm smile. Her surface thoughts were easy to read of course. The anti-psi fields here were weak compared to what he could muster. They probably relied on mobile units and installs into their own suites instead of blanket coverage. Wise, in the end.
"But of course, Mistress Jawyvern. Though, my Empress is a Lady of near infinite patience. She is temperate and moderate..." His pleasantness fell. "I am no such creature. We Ambassadors of the SIN will wait on this charming backwater -" he nodded to Alyana who scowled back at him. "Until your overlords can reach a decision. You needed a day to communicate with them? Then I shall grant you three days to reconvene this delegation to-"

Imillia coughed. Faeden glanced at her, slightly annoyed. She cleared her throat again and reached up to adjust her mask. "Sorry," she said, a slight hiss of air escaping the rebreather.
Faeden returned to the delegates. "As I was saying. This delegation will reconvene in three days with an answer. As a long standing ally to the KEX, I am sure the diplomatic corps could hurry along a bit of the paperwork."

Imillia coughed again, readjusting her mask. "Excuse me," she muttered, removing it and taking a sip from the glass provided.
Though she tried to hide it, at least some of the delegates would see the radiation burns that had removed a portion of her lips and cheek. Though she was once pretty by most standards, the scarring gave her a grim hollow of a jaw, with false teeth and blackened, burned gums.
She sipped some water, carefully blotting away the spill.

Outside, across the road, six Necrian police officers pulled up to a residential building, lights flashing but no sirens. Clad in heavy robes against the unyielding typhoon, they entered the building. As they pushed aside curious onlookers, no one saw the glistening flux of active camouflage that followed them.

Fel'tethra
Outskirts...


The tiny village deep in Fel'tethra's jungle was only just large enough to warrant an independent spaceport.
That spaceport was of course a single air-blasted bit of scrub grasses and clearing. Right now, only a single ship sat there, shielding itself from the heavy rain even as the ground became mud and sludge.
Naxan Thath stomped through the rain, holding his hood down as he battled the wind, shoving through the winds as Lucky - the ship's AI - lowered the landing ramp for him.

As Nax stomped off the mud and hung up his poncho, robe and hood, he glowered at the vixen who sat on the cargo crate, grinning at him. "I hate it here." He ripped his soaked tunic off, yanking it over his head. His short cropped mohawk of hair had grown out to a full spiky mop in the last few months, frizzing a little as the heat of the ship's interior dried him off. "I hate the muggy jungle and I hate this rain."
Koiwa's smile became a shit eating grin. "You hate everything, Nax. You hate the rain, the sun, the snow, the cold, the heat. Where would make you happy?"
"Space," Nax said, his morose attitude slowly ebbing away. "Anywhere climate controlled. Hells, I'd take a space suit in deep vacuum right now over this ruddy typhoon."

Bare chested now - revealing heavy scarring and old pock-marks on his pale skin - Nax kicked off his boots and was about to remove his sopping pants when he glanced at Koiwa and her widening grin. "Oh can it, Fox-face," he snarled as he gathered his things and headed for his cabin. "Lucky. Reports?"
"Nothing too outstanding," the disembodied voice chimed in. "A text-only message from Mistress Yana and Nagy. Master Seito also sent one. They are all delayed due to the storm. Police lockdown is in effect until further notice."
"Goddess damn this planet!" Nax's voice rang down the ships internal halls.
"In other news," Lucky said, his voice slightly perturbed at being interrupted. "An ambassadorial delegation from the Solar Imperium of Necrotia has arrive and began conducting high-level negotiations as of zero-eight hundred hours. It seems that the Necrian Imperial Dominion has concluded its isolation."

Out of sight from Koiwa, Nax paused in putting on a fresh part of cargo pants. The SIN... "Who's leading them?"
"Master Faeden Kaer'lhan, High Priest of-"
"Yeah, yeah," Nax said, pulling on his pants and a tight black top. Koiwa seemed to always get him shirts slightly too small for him. It bothered him endlessly, especially Yana and Nagy's schoolgirl giggling. It was truly incessant.

He stomped back to the cargo hold, strapping on his lancer pistol and his ancient saber. Without looking at her, he picked up the local manifest and flipped through it. "So... a lot of fruit. And some meat. And questionable product that could be either? Koiwa, just what are you buying from these people? Where are we selling this?"
Last edited by Necrisis on Fri Sep 09, 2016 12:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

User avatar
Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Fri Sep 09, 2016 4:05 pm

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers...


"But of course, Mistress Jawyvern. Though, my Empress is a Lady of near infinite patience. She is temperate and moderate...I am no such creature. We Ambassadors of the SIN will wait on this charming backwater. Until your overlords can reach a decision. You needed a day to communicate with them? Then I shall grant you three days to reconvene this delegation to-"

Hands clasping tighter, Jan set her mouth in a hard line. She couldn't figure out if the man was deliberately trying to be provocative, or if a state of very un-Necrian rudeness was simply part of his character. But these negotiations were too important to allow a few wayward words to sink them. No doubt he knew that. Even so, she tried to avoid looking him in the eye. There had been something predatory there, something with fangs and claws that had been staring at her. She lifted a hand to take her glass of water in the lull as the Gythian coughed, and realized that there was a bead of sweat rolling down her arm.

"As I was saying. This delegation will reconvene in three days with an answer. As a long standing ally to the KEX, I am sure the diplomatic corps could hurry along a bit of the paperwork."

"Very well," Jan pushed her chair back and stood, prompting the rest of the delegation to do the same. "We'll meet again in three days time, then. We should have an answer for you by then," this time she looked at Faeden head-on. It was better than looking one way, at still-scowling Herak, or the other, at Imillia's half-destroyed face. "If there is nothing else, Ambassador?"

Fel'tethra
Outskirts...


Koiwa leaned back on her crate, bracing her palms against the metal with a little smirk. Nax's grumpiness didn't bother her: he wasn't happy unless he was unhappy, as she liked to say. Of course he hated it when she said that, but that was to be expected. She only half-listened to the news from Lucky. It didn't have anything about Typhoon Rama abating or the lockdown being lifted, so she wasn't interested. It just meant that the crew of the Nax's Luck and their cargo were going to be stuck for however many hours or days more it took for the storm to pass.

Her vulpine eyes followed Nax as he stepped back out into the hold, fully dressed and armed again. She wasn't wearing much herself, just a belt with an e-field on it just in case, as she usually liked to around the ship. With them being grounded for the foreseeable future it wasn't like she had anywhere to be anyway. So the steel blue-and-black vixen just watched as the captain paged through the manifest.

"So... a lot of fruit. And some meat. And questionable product that could be either? Koiwa, just what are you buying from these people? Where are we selling this?"

"Oh, those are actually really good," she hopped off the crate she was sitting on and turned away to go for a different one, tail flicking as she leaned over to access it. "I'll show you," her fingers tapped over the access keypad. "They're called Vasherno. Definitely vegetable matter, but they scuttle around on these little legs during Fel'tethra's days and then they sort of do this hibernating thing at night. Taste like cantaloupe!"
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

User avatar
Necrisis
Diplomat
 
Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Sat Sep 10, 2016 11:15 am

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Residentials


As the six police officers broke in the door to 'F1_1ckingGenius33245's apartment, rushing the kitsune before she could escape, the abandoned rooftop saw the exit door open without a sound.
The typhoon had already whipped up the flag atop the building, tearing it a little, and the garden of marijuana pots and bloodvine hibiscus lay in tatters and smashed ceramic. Two figures, visible only to close scrutiny as the rain warped around their active camo, strode across the rooftop, calmly and with the unerring precision of professionals.

As a rumble of thunder rolled over the city and lightning suddenly forked across the sky, the two Yddrian troopers were revealed for a brief half second. They did not stop, seemingly uncaring of the storm.
They set up on the edge of the building, sniper rifles at the ready. One linked their advanced imagine software with the other, who leveled a long barreled cannon at Number 6.
Inside they could see the delegates, marked clearly with kill, incapacitate and maim tags.

They waited, patiently, rain pouring over them like a stream, undeterred.

As lightning struck once more, Cori flashed the building's main drive, and activated the virus she had inserted into the back up generator as she removed the building from the city's power grid.
The force fields that enveloped the building dissipated and the Yddrians fired. Four shots, four capsules.
Then one drew a sniper rifle, leveling it and firing within moments as the other turned back to the rooftop and drew a plasma based SMG.

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers


Faeden nodded and bowed.
"Thank you, honored hosts."

The lights flicked out as lighting flashed outside, the following crack of thunder masking the first two capsules shattering glass. The next two were not so subtle, crashing through the windows at knee height, one of them clipping Va before spinning open.
Four assassin Ghostwasps unfurled, needles of hyper-refined plasma lashing out at the Xiscapian delegates.
Tavin yelped as fire tore into his leg, his aides moving quickly to assist him. Alyana wasn't so lucky.
She gasped as one lashed a flaming burn across her chest, cauterizing a horrid wound that quickly sent her into shock.
The last two turned to Yanji and Jan, blazes of fire tracing towards them faster than they could move.
Sniper fire followed only half-seconds after, targeting the rest of the delegates. One burning hot bullet ripped a channel across the table as Kelaetra tackled Shuji to the floor, pinning him even as she drew her own pistol and leveled it at Va.
"Not a move, Master Va," she said, standing.

Harek's head had dissolved, Imillia already dropping the PAD into her leg pouch and moving away from the table to hack the door closed. The Sworn Knight Commander had moved with blinding speed, leaping and using a zip-line cable to take her across the room and feet first into Yanji's assistant.
Faeden's eyes blazed crimson, and he felt the pressure of the anti-psi fields lift. With a flick of his hand he pinned Di'toc to his chair, while leveling his other hand towards Tavin and his girls.
"No body moves and no body has to die." He smiled at Jan, no longer masking the predator, the darkness within. "Sorry, Mistress Jawyvern. But my people do not have time for your Empire's games... Mercy, need pick up."

Downstairs, the lights flickered out and Harek stood. His wireless transmitter kept a link open to Cori for when the generator's kicked back in, but she would be fine for now. The mainframes had an isolated grid they ran on in cases like this.
He strode out of the offices, and into the crowd of Xiscapians, a rush of activity that didn't notice him at first.
He made his way to the front office where his guns were being stored. The Necrian man there didn't stop him, just nodded as the Hetaevan entered.
The kitsune at the desk glanced up.
"Sir, I need to have you stop right there. You're not permitted-"
Harek didn't say anything. He reached out and grabbed the Kitsune. Without a thought, he twisted, snapping the tods neck and throwing his body back.
Grabbing his guns - a heavy machine rifle, two smaller SMGs, a hefty pistol and a carbine of Necrian make - he turned back to the chaos outside. He leveled his heavy machine gun at the entrance hall.
A kitsune - bulky for a kitsune, even in power armor - strode through the crowd, purpose already in mind. When he saw Harek emerge from the office, armed to the literal teeth, heavy MG already rising, he didn't so much as think as acted, hand darting towards his side arm.
"Stop right there-"
Fire and light tore through the crowd - not just from Harek's massive gun but from outside. It was a killing field and within seconds, the hall was littered with the bodies of Xiscapian loyal forces and civilians.
As the smoke cleared, Harek oversaw his work, venting the heat sink of his gun into the howling hall, doors rocking as the typhoon barreled through the building.
He didn't care for murder and slaughter. There was no fight to it, no challenge.
But that wasn't his mission today.
His mission-

Harek coughed. There was a tightness in his chest and then pain bloomed across his side. He grunted in pain, grasping for the wound, only to find his armor intact.
"Wh-at?"
He gurgled as he fell to the floor with a thud that shook the plate glass from a window pane and dented the floor. His suit locked up, preventing massive damage to his spine and major ligaments, but that just left him paralyzed as his vision started to blur and pain ripped through his insides.
What was happening to him?

Number 6, Adjacent Office

The lights went out and Darian Fel turned, hard-light blade igniting and driving towards Warukashi's gut, angled up to pierce his heart and lungs. Had the kitsune not turned by sheer happenstance, he would have died from that stroke alone. As it was, it merely grazed him, the hard-light edge of the sword tearing through his chest plate. Darian didn't stop, simply followed through with a downward blow that would tear the kitsune in half.
Around the room, the Necrians turned on their Xiscapian counterparts, blades and pistols flaring to life.
Blood spattered the window, but it was too dark to see the colour.

Fel'tethra Outskirts

"Oh, those are actually really good. I'll show you. They're called Vasherno. Definitely vegetable matter, but they scuttle around on these little legs during Fel'tethra's days and then they sort of do this hibernating thing at night. Taste like cantaloupe!"


Nax glowered at the little ball of... thing... that Koiwa offered him. "I hate fruit, Koiwa. You know I hate fruit." He took it and ran his thumb over the leathery skin. It squirmed a little. "Even Necrians don't eat still moving food, Koiwa."
"Sir," Lucky chimed in. "There is a private message for you."
"Who's the sender?"
"Unknown. It's short and... I'm not too sure as to what it means."
Nax grimaced as he took a bite of the vasherno, which jumped then lay still. The piece in his mouth seemed to quiver for a moment before being crushed by his teeth. "Weird tasty shit..." he muttered. "Go on then, read it."
"Understood.
"Naxan Thath; The Shade of the Storm has risen. Find Shelter in it or strike with the lightning.
"Does that mean anything to you, Master Nax?"

Nax chewed for a moment, his face impassive. He glanced up at Koiwa, who was watching him with that amused smirk of her's when she got him to try something new. She was always prettiest when she smirked like that.
Nax shook his head. "No idea. Delete it and mark as spam."
"Understood sir."
Nax took another bite of the vasherno, before ripping out the pit at its center with his teeth and spitting it out, down the landing ramp and out into the mud and rain. "Better than I expected, to be honest."
"Master Nax?"
"Yeah Lucky?"
"Sir, I am not sure this ground it stable enough."
"It's -"

Nax was going to say it was fine, but the ship suddenly lurched and regretted his knee jerk reaction to deny Lucky's observations. The AI had never steered him wrong before, why wouldn't he just listen?
The crates slid starboard, as did he and Koiwa. Thankfully, there were no crates behind them and Nax caught himself on the wall before he fell on top of his partner.
"Damned, bloody skin holes," he growled, hefting himself off of her and stumbling towards the cockpit. "Lucky, next time just auto-correct, ok? It's going to take us hours to dig you out."
"Sorry, sir..."


Fel'tethra System
Outskirts of the Defense Field


Space churned as a whurl of light and energy tore through it, leaving behind a ship in its wake.
To call it a ship, however, seemed to be an understatement. It was nearly sixteen kilometers long, and over one kilometer tall and wide. The Cascade Engine's warp signature alone was enough to white-out some sensor stations, overloading them with noise and radiation. It emerged from the yawning dark like a nova.
The Necropolis had arrived.

On its bridge, Empress Rilaena Necrythan clasped her hands behind her back and took a shuddering breath. Clad in black battle armor, the short woman still commanded respect from her bridge crew with her mere will.
"Fire when ready," she said. "Then signal the rest of the fleet."

Energy boiled up from the deep within the core, welling up at the fore of the vessel. It roiled over the edges and down the ventral spine. Targeting systems painted dozens, hundreds of Xiscapian mines and then the energy flashed out. Lightning jumped from the Necropolis and into the minefield, small explosions tracing its path as it jumped from mine to mine. Magnetic fields redirected the lightning as it arched back toward the dreadnought.
Eventually it fizzled out, but left a gapping bay in the mine field. This was quickly filled as hundreds of ships warped in to fill the void. Drones and Fighter craft disgorged from their host ships and started to hunt down more mines as the fleet started to move in towards Fel'tethra from the underside of its giant blue mother.
Last edited by Necrisis on Mon Sep 12, 2016 11:04 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

User avatar
Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Wed Sep 14, 2016 5:15 am

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers...


Even after the fact Jan was never entirely sure of exactly how it all happened. One moment Faeden was standing and thanking them and in the next the lights had gone out, windows were breaking, and the drones appeared even as she staggered back, eyes unable to adjust to the darkness quickly enough. She'd thrown a hand up to shield her eyes and that was what saved her as a white-hot burning sensation ran through her arm and she found herself on the floor. Jan's vision gradually brought the ceiling into being as she lay there, nocturnal capabilities picking up what little light there was as she focused on breathing. The pain in her arm had gone as quickly as it had come, and as much out of a desire to keep from seeing it she looked around the room.

It seemed that everyone else was lying on the ground like her. Tavin was clutching his leg as his aides covered him with their bodies, but she couldn't even take satisfaction in seeing the arrogant bastard in pain. Alyana was lying next to him with smoke steadily rising from her chest. On her other side Falean had hit the floor and for a moment their eyes met, his wide and horrified. Past him Yanji had her vixen companion sprawled in her lap, a hole burned through her chest from where she'd rebounded to jump and knock the Necrian out of the way of the blast. At the other end Kelaetra was lying on top of Shuji, pistol out and pointed...at Va? Jan looked, and her own aide looked as dazed and bewildered as she felt.

But that had brought her left shoulder into her field of view, and captive to her own need to know, Jan looked down. At first she didn't comprehend what she saw. Her left arm was simply gone, save for her blackened shoulder. Somehow it didn't hurt at all. Woozy, she looked away and found Faeden staring down at her.

"No body moves and no body has to die. Sorry, Mistress Jawyvern. But my people do not have time for your Empire's games... Mercy, need pick up."

She blinked slowly as the sound of lancer fire from outside permeated into the room. "I don't understand..."

Fruitpacking Plant Rooftop...

As I thought.

Akran made no comment to his mistress's telepathic words. He kept vigil over the Yddrian troopers in silence, staring through his rifle's scope as they finished their firing. It was impressive that they had pulled it off in the middle of a typhoon, but they had the singular focus of machines on their goal. They had never even scanned in his direction. The view allowed him to see beyond them and into the Number 6 building, able to peer through the broken windows and into the court chambers where Faeden and his automated thugs were holding the delegation hostage. His fur rippled at the sight of the man who had destroyed his previous body. It had been necessary for Kaga's plan, and this new body was better, it was true, but that hadn't made the experience much better. Death was unpleasant.
As more than a few people were about to learn for themselves.

The plan? he asked the vixen beside him.

As discussed. Open fire.

He saw the Sworn Commander and Imillia both drop before he even pulled the trigger, victims of Kaga's mischief long before they'd even stepped into the room. Both his and her rifles fired simultaneously, silent and invisible but unquestioningly present as her shot slammed into Faeden's center mass while his blew apart a ghostwasp. She joined him after that, another pair of shots accounting for two more, and even as she finished off the last in the blink of an eye he tracked down to the Yddrians. They had already turned, the flanker backing up while the sniper panned in search of them, but his third beam caught the automaton in the chest and sent it tumbling in pieces over the side of the roof. A final shot from Kaga decapitated the other Yddrian, and she tossed aside her rifle and stood.

She jumped from the roof without hesitation and Akran followed suit into the howling torrent. Leaping into the air was exhilarating, almost as exciting as dropping a target, and even the feeling of the rain and wind lashing at him didn't kill that feeling as he soared into the air on his anti-gravity harness. The wind buffeted him but his fields kept him stable, moving through the fury of the storm as if it didn't even exist. Kaga sped ahead and he pushed to keep up, cybernetics directing the graviton waves minutely so he dropped in through the broken window a second after she did. Soaked from the rain he settled his feet to the floor among the delegates, black jumpsuit glistening with water that had slicked back the tod's tawny fur and blond hair. Kaga was standing over Faeden's body, and he watched her hoist him up in her arms.

"No mercy, Faeden," she told him, eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Only me."

Then she turned and bodily hurled him out the window, flinging him through the gap before leaping out after him.

Akran looked from the Sworn Commander to Imillia. Both were convulsing on the floor, and from what Kaga had told him they would die painfully if they were not helped by Faeden's powers. He looked away; neither was a threat. "You," he leveled a finger at one of Tavin's aides. "Carry her," he pointed to Alyana before looking to the other. "You can help him walk. Are the rest of you mobile?" he asked the question as he pulled Jan to her feet by her good arm. "Good. No questions. Follow me if you want to live."

Number 6, Adjacent Office...

The room was plunged into darkness and Warukashi knew something was wrong. A power outage in the middle of a typhoon wouldn't have been surprising, but the fact that the backup generator didn't keep the lights on was, and that made him turn for the door. He saw the Necrian woman leaning in as if whispering something in his medic's ear, and in the same moment that blood sprayed from the knife drawn across his throat Fel's blade pierced his armor and sent him staggering back with a hole torn in his chest. The militia officer swung down and he reflexively raised an arm to catch the blow, grunting in shocked pain as his forearm was sliced away. His armor's medical suite immediately dulled the feeling, but it wasn't enough to keep him from sliding down against the wall.

He seemed to see everything in those few seconds. His staff were all dead. His medical officer was lying facedown in a pool of his own blood, his guard crumpled by the door from three lancer shots to the chest at point-blank range, and his forward observer was slumped over the table, head charred from the pistol that had ended his life before he even realized what was happening. Fel stood over Warukashi, blade dripping with his blood as he stood poised to deliver the killing blow. Why this was happening, who any of them really were, even what was happening in the next room, Warukashi didn't know and in that moment he no longer cared. From the gunfire outside he knew the same was happening to his platoon.

As he stared into the man's eyes he knew one thing: he was about to die.
And only one thing mattered: making them pay for it.

The last thing he knew was the satisfying click as he used his tail to pull the pins on both of his grenades.

"Motherland!"

Number 6, Lobby...

Should have shot him...should have shot the scut...

It ran through Major Dai's head again and again like a mantra. Limp and blackened bodies lay everywhere in his field of view from the floor, but the image of the Hetaevan smirking just before leveling his machine gun seemed frozen in his mind with the chant. It was only after something thudded to the floor nearby that he belatedly realized that he was still alive. The pain was slowly lessening down as his cybernetics went to work but he didn't bother taking stock. You have to move.
Dai sat up.

That was a certain stiffness in his right hip and when he looked down he realized that there was a bloody hole in his armor there. It had already repaired itself to seal the breach but he'd been hit by one of the big man's rounds. Another thud made his head swing around to see Herak himself, but no longer standing triumphantly over his field of slaughter. Instead he was lying on the floor, twitching and thrashing as his eyes rolled in his head and his limbs twisted into unnatural positions. He didn't know why the "ambassador" was having a seizure, but Dai didn't care. He rolled over with a groan, left arm hanging uselessly at his side -only did did he see the diagnostic reading it as broken- and dragged himself across the floor to the convulsing Hetaevan.

"You call this war?" he rasped as he pulled himself over the bodies to his target. He saw Herak's eyes focus, flicking in his head to look at the kitsune, but he didn't seem capable of bending his trembling arms or legs. "Pretending to be a diplomat before opening up on a bunch of civvies? Is that how you fight?!" his last word was punctuated as he grabbed Herak by the throat and pulled him close, close enough for him to feel Dai's breath on his face as he looked him in the eye. "You're no warrior," he was panting from the effort as he let go of him and plunged a hand down to his side. "You're no better than a thug." His hand came up with a fragmentation grenade. "Now die as you lived, coward," with his fist still holding it he punched, slamming his gauntlet through the Hetaevan's teeth and into his mouth. He could feel him struggling as he made an animal noise and bucked, then choked as Dai shoved the grenade down his throat.
He pulled the pin and yanked his arm back, rolling away to curl up behind the front desk as the detonation sprayed bloody shrapnel across the room.

But he couldn't stay where he was. As his auditory sensors stabilized he could hear boots rushing up the steps to the front door. They would have literally shot Warukashi's platoon in the back, and probably the tod himself too, and now they would be coming in to finish the job. Dai checked his compartments. Two grenades. Taking one out, he stood behind the desk, primed it with his tail, and hurled it through one of the windows broken by lancer fire. "Grenade!" someone screamed from outside and the explosion was followed by more screams: he'd gotten someone, at least. That'll hold them for a minute, he thought as blind lancer fire flew through the windows, bursting against the walls and pillars among the corpses.

Pausing only to take one of Herak's SMGs with his good hand, Dai retreated around the corner and prepared to hold his position.

Fel'tethra Outskirts...

"I hate fruit, Koiwa. You know I hate fruit."

Koiwa rolled her eyes. "You hate everything, Nax."

"Even Necrians don't eat still moving food, Koiwa."

"Well then they're missing out! Ever try a Nazzid beetle? Only proper way to eat them is while they're still alive and squirming-" before she could finish Lucky broke in. She didn't pay much attention to the A.I., instead watching as Nax tried the vasherno with a little grin on her muzzle. "See? Told you," she said as he commented on the tastiness, then looked away. "Lucky, if it's from an unknown sender and it's a bunch of crap like that, it's probably some kid's stupid idea of a prank. I heard about this kit in the city who likes to hack-"

"Sir, I am not sure this ground it stable enough."

Before she could put two and two together Koiwa found herself falling to one side. The tilt made her yelp as she staggered into the bulkhead, cringing at seeing Nax sliding at her only for the Necrian to stop himself just in time. After a moment her ears unclasped themselves from her head and she glanced around the hull. The cargo was all disarranged but she hadn't heard anything break or short out. That could have been a lot worse.

"It figures that the one airfield we land on is the one with a sinkhole under it. And that it gives way in the middle of a hurricane. Who knows, maybe next someone will shoot me," she groused as she picked her way across the crates as she followed Nax to the cockpit. "See if you can signal the control tower. They should be able to send someone out to help us."

Joint Base Shield, HQ of the 1st Imperial Armored Brigade/6th Night Guards Militia...

"...yes, I know there's a shortage of Fury tanks right now. I'm well-aware, major. But I can't get my ass to Setulan without my heavy tank company, and your job is to make it happen! All I'm asking for is two dozen of the finest pieces of armor known to sapient kind. Look, I'm sick of training these fucking Necrians in armor tactics. They're ready. I'm ready. So we need to make a case to the major general that we're ready to be rotated to the front, and I can't do that unless I have my fucking tanks, major! Do you under -hello? Hello? Fuck!"

Lieutenant Colonel Roni Hatzor slammed her phone down with the curse. It wasn't the fault of her logistics officer that there were no Fury heavy tanks to be had, just like it wasn't his fault that the line had just gone dead, no doubt from the storm, but that didn't keep her from fuming. The lack of actual armor was the only thing holding back her cavalry squadron and its Necrian fellows in the militia division's own armored battalion. "I will not sit on this useless fucking planet while the Exiles run all over Setulan," she said to her empty and windowless office. Her fingers gripped the edge of her desk as she stared at the door before realizing that past the clear glass panes to either side a small group of people were approaching.

She recognized her militia liaison officer before she even opened the door. Lieutenant Mora Qual was her go-between for the Necrian armored units her battalion had been training. She was everything Roni could want in a liaison: dedicated, professional, honest, and above all, good at her job. At times the Setulanite woman thought Mora matched her drive for preparing troops for combat, but she'd never had a visible ideological bent. More pro-Necrian than anything, Roni thought as Mora stepped inside, flanked by a pair of militia soldiers.

"Lieutenant," Roni stood and composed herself as best she could while Mora bowed in the Necrian way.

"Lieutenant colonel. I," Mora paused, then swallowed audibly. Roni looked at her for a moment.

"Some water, lieutenant?"

"Yes, thank you."

Roni leaned down to the mini-fridge under her desk to pull out a bottle. Technically she wasn't supposed to have a mini-fridge, but the only ones who knew about it were the people she offered drinks to, so it worked itself out. She handed the cold bottle across the desk to Mora, who took it but just held it in her hand. "Ah, ma'am, I have something I need to tell you. As privately as possible."

"Alright," she dimmed the windows by the door to opaque so no one could see in, then looked past Mora to her guards. "Wait outside."

"No, it's okay, they can stay," Mora took a breath. "Honestly, they were the ones who helped convince me to come to you in the first place. I need them here."

"If you say so," Roni leaned back in her seat, but her instincts were screaming at her. She'd heard all about how the Exiles had infiltrated AXIS and especially Setulan, carrying out attacks and assassinations before anyone knew anything was wrong. As a Setulan officer opposed to the Exiles she knew that she could be targeted, and that had made her careful. She noticed how the sweat popped up on Mora's brow, how the soldiers behind her fidgeted and kept their hands resting on their SMGs, and how alone and isolated she was with them. With the communications down I can't even call for help, she realized.

"I don't really know how to say this," Mora put the bottle down on her desk. "But I'm really sorry."

She was fast. Her hand grabbed the pistol from its thigh holster and pulled it free in the blink of an eye, swinging it around close to her body. Roni was faster. Before the barrel could point at her she caught Mora's wrist, twisting it around even as she grabbed under her opposite arm and bodily yanked her over the desk to press the Necrian flush to her, one arm compensating to get her into a chokehold while the other maintained control of her weapon hand. Mora yelped in surprise but by then Roni got her finger on the trigger and jerked Mora's hand around to fire a shot. The soldier had only just leveled his SMG when the bolt hit him in the chest and he crumpled, gun falling to the floor unfired. The other didn't hesitate.

"No-" was all Mora got off before the militiaman's lancer burned into her chest. Roni felt her go slack against her, sagging in her arms as she dropped the pistol to clatter onto the desk. Still holding the Necrian, she snatched her AAXES up from its holster and the heavy pistol bellowed at the other guard. His torso exploded in a shower of gore, slamming him back against the wall before he toppled over onto the carpet. Panting, Roni's eyes cut between the two corpses for any signs of life before she realized she was still clutching Mora's body. Exhaling, she let it drop behind her desk and took a step away. The water bottle was still sitting right where she'd left it, and she reached for it before the entire building shook and she staggered, catching herself on the desk as the thunder of the explosion faded.

She saw a flash of movement from the corner of her eye and whipped around, weapon raised.

"Colonel-" the door banged open and her intelligence officer Koei ducked back at the sight of the AAXES.

"Get in here," she craned her head, looking for any sign of more Necrians in the hall as more rumbles made the office tremble. The tod shut the door behind him and stepped away, eyeing the prone dead and the pale outstretched hand behind Roni's deck. "Get one of their SMGs and ammo," she kept her eyes on the windows past the door. "Captain, what's going on out there? Give me a sitrep."

"Ma'am, I don't know much myself," he hoisted the SMG and glanced over at the door, keeping sidelong to it. "I can't get in contact with headquarters, or anyone else for that matter. I saw explosions over at the artillery yard and I heard a lot of lancer fire. All I know for sure is that the militia has turned on us. And apparently they tried to assassinate you."

"I won't have been the only one," she thought of Brigadier Kiyofumi, the C.O. of the 1st Armored. "We need to get over to brigade HQ."

Koei looked at her. "What if brigade's been wiped out, ma'am?"

"Find the cavalry squadron. And if we can't even do that, then we fall back on that old military adage," Roni holstered her pistol and picked up the other SMG. "In absence of orders, find something and kill it. Follow me, captain. We're going to kill us some traitors."

XIS Revan, Bridge...

Flotilla Captain Calo Ayez had seen death before.
Sometimes it came for others. During his first real action in the Berrax Rebellion he had seen his commanding officer torn in half by Greali breaching charges. There had been others, ships lost to the void through accident or enemy action, more impersonal but all too real. And sometimes death came for him. He had managed to evade it so far, through skill or trickery or just plain luck, intercepting a missile before it could impact or dodging out of the way at just the right moment. But death came for everyone eventually.
Perhaps today was the day it came for him, he thought as the hundreds of warships spread across the system he was sworn to defend.

What are your orders, sir?

Calo didn't even need to look around to see the captain's expression. His neural link gave him access to the bridge cameras, allowing him to see her face without turning. Despite their situation Captain Europa Praxon looked as stolid as ever, hands clasped behind her back in Imperial fashion and her purple chin lifted high. He felt a rush of gratitude to the theelin woman in that moment: she was dealing with this professionally, so could he. Even so, he took a breath and closed his eyes, examining the data being pumped into his mind while closing off all distractions.

Instruments, tactical. Tell me what they're doing.

The Revan's Karaigan instruments officer spoke first over the neural link. The fleet is deploying extensive jamming, sir, so it's difficult to get an accurate picture of individual ships and formations. However, based on the overall movements it appears that the supercapital warship cleared an initial path through the mines just beyond the inhibitor field for the rest of the fleet, which is now proceeding through the breach. Small craft are carrying out hunter-killer operations on more of the mines beyond. They'll probably miss a few and take some casualties, but it won't be enough to slow them down, sir. Not with a fleet of that size.

After the man finished it was the tod tactical officer's turn. Sir, it appears to me like they're trying to play it safe. Minimize casualties at the cost of giving us more time to prepare, probably because they believe any fight will have a foregone conclusion. That means they'll stick to their current vector since they can be sure that it will be free of mines and probably won't deviate too much from it or they'll risk running into uncleared patches of space. It also means they'll move slowly as they clear through the mines within the inhibitor field. Their supercapital will probably take the lead until it reaches the planet.

Calo nodded. Communications, have you been able to establish contact with Command?

Negative, sir, the female escan responded. Their jamming is too powerful for long-range communications. I've already had a faster-than-light probe dispatched with scans of the situation. It should reach the opposite edge of the inhibitor field shortly.

Good. Instruments, what about civilian craft in the system and our friends in Customs? What are their dispositions?

The ICE interdiction frigate and destroyer are currently docked at Fel'tethra Station, sir. One corvette is in geosynchronous orbit over the capital, and the other just released a civilian vessel from inspection. All ICE craft are scrambling. A number of civilian craft have already transited out of the system after the appearance of the fleet. We are still reading three civilian ships in the area, all light freighters.

Comms, we still have short-range communications, correct?

Yes sir.

Flag down those freighters, see if we can't enlist them, Calo swiveled his seat around, opening his eyes to look across the bridge crew of his flagship. We have no hope of holding this system or this planet even in the shortest of terms. But that does not mean we lose today. It means we follow protocol. In this situation Imperial doctrine calls for as complete an evacuation as possible. I don't have the authority to unilaterally order that, only Major General Shuuei does, but I intend to make my case to him. If he agrees then those freighters can assist. If not, then we've done what we can on that front. Comms, instruct the ICE commander to have his interdiction frigate and destroyer ready to escort evacuation transports. If there is to be an evacuation site both corvettes should cover it. I want all fighters and all Imperial Marines ready to assist Major General Shuuei and his division, they won't do us much good up here. Keep the squadron in a tight cordon around the capital with as many defense platforms assisting as we can get, we will hold here and protect the city and any evacuation efforts until such a time as we can do no more.

Yes sir!

The squadron that was Fel'tethra's primary naval garrison positioned itself with overlapping fields of fire, its half dozen destroyers forming three picket pairs around the two escorting frigates that flanked each cruiser: both the flagship light cruiser Revan and the missile cruiser Krosis. Before long ten fighter squadrons were peeling away, Shuriken class ships diving down into stormy atmosphere in close support of the forty transports that ferried over two thousand Imperial Marines down to the city. At the same time more of the automated weapons platforms scattered throughout orbit, just a few dozen or hundred meters across, began to migrate close to Fel'tethra to add their own firepower to the defenses. Among it all two of the signaled freighters turned back, accelerating again for the planet they had been leaving. The ship that had been stopped by the ICE corvette continued its course for a minute, then finally turned about and followed.
On the bridge of his flagship, Calo watched the invading fleet come closer.

Starport, HQ of the 33rd Imperial Infantry Division...

As you can see, sir, the village of Tamarow sits on a mostly barren incline. The development in the area has denuded it of all vegetation, and that combined with the slope says to me that there is a risk of landslide due to rain. That puts Tamarow under threat. My recommendation is that the site be evacuated and cordoned off by local militia troops to prevent looting. Once the storm passes the residents can return to their homes.

That seems reasonable, Major General Shuuei flicked his tail. Are there any other settlements under threat?

That's the last one, sir, his operations officer stepped away from the projection. We remain in good shape for Typhoon Rama. With any luck-

His neural thoughts were cut off as a rumble shook the room, seeming to make the entire spaceport tremble. The lights overhead flickered for a moment before returning full-strength as the division's officers all looked around, ears perking and flicking on almost all of them as tails curled. Shuuei keyed his neural link to his guard detail. Major, what the fuck was that?

I'm looking into it now, General, the xenan male responded. A few beats passed. From the report I'm getting from security, that was a bomb blast at the western gate. Numbers unconfirmed right now but there are casualties. Seems the weapon was inside a briefcase that Lieutenant Colonel Nava was trying to bring in.

Shuuei frowned at the mention of the 6th Night Guard's liaison with his division. The man had always seemed a tad cold to him, but he never would have expected him to make an attack. Was he apprehended?

Uh, no sir. The shrapnel got him first. No sign of his staff though.

Sir, a new voice broke in, this one of his executive officer Brigadier Genji. The tixen was staring across the table at him, red-furred features tight. Multiple perimeter troops are reporting hearing gunfire and explosions across the city.

I want us on full alert.

Already done, sir, Genji's tail swished. The spaceport is being locked down as we speak.

Good, Shuuei turned to his communications officer. Lieutenant Commander, what's the situation at the Government Center?

Haruho looked back at him even as she maintained neural contact with others in her department, tail swishing. We have no contact with the Government Center or our forces there, sir. Their communications seem to be offline.

What about their parent company?

No contact.

Fine, the joint base.

No contact with them either, sir.

For fuck's sake, lieutenant, who do we have contact with?

I can't even raise the police commissioner, he saw her swallow, then her ears jumped. Wait! Transmission incoming. It's the Revan,sir. Flotilla Captain Ayez for you.

Patch him, Shuuei turned the the map of Tamarow was replaced by the visage of the berrax naval captain. The tod nodded to him, not wasting time bowing. Flotilla Captain. My city's under attack and it seems you're the only one I can talk to. What's happening?

On your end, probably a militia rebellion instigated by the Necrian delegation. A large SIN fleet just entered the system, General, hundreds of warships led by a supercapital. Too large for us to stop. The only reason it's not already in orbit is because of the inhibitor field and all the mines, but that's only a matter of time. They jammed our long-range communications but we managed to get out a messenger drone. But even if command acts on the message immediately, reinforcements are still three hours away, and they'd have to pull together the entire sector fleet to stop this armada, Ayez shook his head. We're being hit with a highly-coordinated attack that they must have planned a long time in advance, and under these conditions I don't see any way my squadron can hold this system. If their army has anywhere near the same numbers, the same will go for your division and the city.

The kitsune gazed at him for a moment, processing it all. Doctrine on this matter says that we put together an evacuation attempt.

Yes sir. You're the one with the authority and resources to carry that out, and I strongly think that we should make that attempt our primary focus.

Do you think we could negotiate a ceasefire for the evacuation? Justify it for the sake of the civilians?

The level of jamming they're laying down says to me that they're not interested in talking, General, and even if they were based on what I know about Necrian doctrine, they don't want anyone leaving this system alive.

Shuuei exhaled. Alright. What's the disposition of your forces?

My squadron is coordinating defensive efforts as best we can, sir. Moving mines and defense platforms, counter-jamming where we can, but there's not much we can do. Once the evacuation starts my ships and the ICE ships I have with me are going to focus on escort duties. We'll do that right up until the last transport is away or that fleet finally breaks through. I'm sending you my squadron's fighters, all of them, and about two thousand Imperial Marines aboard their transports for you to deploy as you see fit. There's also three civilian ultralight freighters that responded to our hails to assist in the evacuation.

Good. My staff will let you know when the first transport is taking off. If there's any way the division can assist you, captain, just say the word.

Ayez shook his head with a rueful little smile on his snout. We're already doing our damndest to help you and yours, General. As far as I'm concerned the best way to assist us is to complete the objective. For the people. And the Emperor.

And the Empire, Shuuei swished his tail. See you on the other side, captain. One way or another.

The image blinked out and the major general turned back. Those Imperial Marines. What do we have?

Based on reported complements, sir, one battalion from the Revan, two companies from the Krosis and each frigate, and one squad from each of the destroyers. The fighters are escorting them.

I want Revan's battalion down at the joint base, if the militia are rebelling then the 1st Armored will need help immediately. The companies from the Krosis can hit the Government Center, they should be advised to rescue our delegation and treat all foreign Necrians and militia as hostile. Those frigate companies can set up a quick perimeter around the starport to hold until we can get reinforcements to them and start creating evacuation corridors. Keep those loose squads in the air, I want them on hand for reconnaissance and to respond to any hotspots that crop up. Once our transports start going up I want at least one fighter squadron on escort duty, but for the time being they are cleared to engage any and all militia positions except at the joint base.

Genji whipped hir tail. Yes sir. I've already ordered drone reconnaissance flights and scrambled our own aviation units. All battalions are gearing up for action.

Good. Our first priority is rescuing the delegates, second priority relieving our troops at the joint base and extracting them. All units not involved will pave the way for the evacuation operation. That's our primary objective here. Any dead militia is just a bonus.
Last edited by Xiscapia on Wed Sep 14, 2016 5:16 am, edited 1 time in total.
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
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Necrisis
Diplomat
 
Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Thu Sep 15, 2016 10:02 pm

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers


"I don't understand..."


Faeden took a step forward. "I don't expect you to. My Empress has decided to invade this planet. If the KEX will not return what belongs to us, then we will take it back in blood. The Xiscapians understand little but force-"

A Ghostwasp exploded, followed quickly by a smack-crack as Faeden was blasted back, fallen back across the table, even as Imillia gasped in pain and fell to the floor, blood frothing from her mouth.
The Sworn Commander dropped to her knees, clutching at her throat, even as two kitsune burst through the windows to land amid them.

The next thing Faeden knew was Kaga's face and then wind-whipped air and rain.
The anger flowed through him. At his foolishness. At her and always seeming a step ahead. At his plan quickly unraveling.
He flipped in mid air and balanced himself as the crimson power tore through his body, igniting the blaze in his eyes and his scars. It hissed as he welled up the energy, channeling it into his body, his synthetic muscles burning.
He kept it just inside of the red-line. If he didn't, he could burn his body out and that was no good here.

Faeden landed in the soggy grounds even as he heard the thrum of Mercy's engines overhead. Moments from victory.
He could have screamed.
Standing, Faeden watched Kaga sore down from above, following him down.
His scar ached and his eyes narrowed. No mercy, he thought as he dragged his arms through the air.

While Kaga surely had anti-psionic implants, there was nothing she nor her anti-grav belt could do against the fury of matter itself.
Windows glowed red and shattered, shards of duraglass whirling into a storm all their own, a wall of air filled with them, slammed into Kaga's back as solid as if Faeden had used earth and stone.

She crashed to the ground, glass whirling at her, cutting her, flying at her in a furious hail, more windows shattering and larger and larger shards raining down towards her.
Faeden snarled, his mind blanking out everything except his fury. "No mercy, Kaga. You're right. Not this time."

In the Council Chambers, Sworn Knight Commander Ceilia struggled to raise herself on one arm.
The pain was being blotted out slowly, but that didn't help her internal bleeding. Her vision was off and she knew that one of her eyes was dead, maybe both if she didn't find aide quickly.
The tod paid her only a brief glimpse and she tried to swear at him, but it was only a froth filled whimper.
She hated herself for that, sinking under the weight of her own armor, but the hum of Thuumen engines caught her ears and she managed a weak sneer.
Mercy had come for her Master.

The black ship's active camo slithered away as lancer fire tore into the windows, melting away what was left and then she swung about to reveal an open hatch.
Six Yddrian troopers leaped the gap to land in the chambers, rifles already painting targets.
They did not speak, merely fired at Akran.

Number 6
Lobby


Cori had returned as Harek's head had exploded and she was perplexed to say the least. She was sad of course, but death had been so long removed from her people that she knew it wouldn't hit her until much later.
Harek had been a good man, though brusk and rude on occasion, her time with him had been... enjoyable.
Without him, however, she had no eyes. Not that she'd let a simple thing like that stop her before. Hetaevan body armor was mostly automated to start with, adding to their considerable strength and constitution. So it was a simple matter to commandeer the suit. The SI interface told her, rather matter-of-factly, that Harek's life signs were null and that it was in standby.
Cori sighed at it and reconfigured the SI into a coupled program with the suits shield emitters. Using them to create a crude ladar- emitting a pulse of energy and then reading its relative distance compared to time - Cori activated the suit and stood...

Harek's body struggled to stand, blood that had pooled in his spine and throat pouring down his front and joints as it stood, clanking and making horrid bone-grinding sounds as it shifted its weight and gained balance. Hefting the heavy machine gun that Harek had favored, Cori and her new body scanned the area, lumbering forward with a purpose as she tried to uplink to Mercy, the howling gale outside covering most of her sickening noise of blood and bone protesting the suits dauntless trudge forward.

Number 6
Adjacent Office


"Motherland!"

Darian Fel didn't even flinch. He gestured, his eyes glowing a faint red and Warukashi was hurled by a wall of air through the window and into the storm outside. He turned away before the explosion happened and waved to his Night Guards to follow. There was no conversation between them, though the medic reached down to close the eyes of the tod she had killed, whispering something under her breath.
Darian opened the doors and strode with purpose along the dark corridor.
The plasma bolt burning through the chamber's doors kicked him into a run.
If the Yddrians were firing, something was wrong.

With a pull of his psionics, Fel flung the doors open to the ensuing confrontation between six Yddrian troopers and a kitsune male.

Fel'tethra Outskirts

"It figures that the one airfield we land on is the one with a sinkhole under it. And that it gives way in the middle of a hurricane. Who knows, maybe next someone will shoot me. See if you can signal the control tower. They should be able to send someone out to help us."

"Yeah," Nax murmured, more to himself than her. "Hold on a sec, let me see if I can raise them..."
"Sir," Lucky said. "I have been trying to hail the local portmaster, but Nigi doesn't seem to be responding. I will try again..."
Nax rolled his shoulders nervously.
Nigi was a little kitsune woman, elderly and as full of piss and vinegar as he was. She had two sons and a daughter who lived with her at the starport's canteena - the Bucket, which she also owned.
Nax hoped nothing had happened to them.
"I have a connection," Lucky said as Koiwa seated herself next to Nax in the cockpit. "On screen, sir."
Nax's hopes died as Faran's face appeared on the screen instead of Nigi's old grey muzzle. She always sat too close to the com station.
"Nax," the dockhand said. "Hows it going?"
"None too good, Faran," Nax said, scanning the background of the com terminal, the room beyond Faran's pale visage. It was strangely dark, and glancing up at the tower, it seemed that the power was out. "Your damned port is build on unstable ground. I doubt its a full on sinkhole, but Lucky's starboard side piling sank at least a meter."
"Nigi never saw the point to putting in plates," Faran said with a shrug. "Typhoon Rama's pretty heavy with the rain. Be careful out there, Nax. They said there could be lightning strikes."
"Yeah, so I heard," Nax said. He'd caught Faran's glance at Koiwa.
"You need a hand, Nax?"
"No. Nah, me and Lucky can sort it out," Nax said.
Faran's eyes flicked to Koiwa again. "We'll be out in five, Nax. Careful of the... you know. Lightning."
"I'll keep it in mind." Nax punched the comm's off button. Faran's face winked out.

Nax looked out at the little starport for a few moments, feeling his chest tighten.
There were three Necrian dockhands -including Faran - Nigi and her three kids.
And him and Koiwa.
There was no one else for miles.
No one would ever think to look out here, not for a long time at least...
"Koiwa..." Nax took a deep breath and ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "We... need to talk..."

Fel'tethra System
Outskirts of the Defense Field
Necropolis
Grand Commander Fash Urhan Commanding


Fash stood next to Rilaena as they watched the rest of the fleet exit the Cascade, lancer fire from swarmers and fighters already tearing into the mine field.
"Are the GSR ships ready?" Rilaena asked him, watching the viewport.
Fash glanced at the tactical board. "Yes, My Empress. They are initiating hyperdrive FTL now."
"Will they be able to intercept that probe?"
"They do have interdictors, but it will ultimately be up to their pilots."
Rilaena nodded. "Right."
"My lady-"
Rilaena turned from the viewport and strode past him, retaking the command throne. "We need to make landfall quickly, Grand Commander. Faeden is in trouble and I don't need this to turn into fucking blood bath. Pull everything in as we approach the end of the clear zone and have Saer'Khar fire the Arc Cannon again."
"Of course, Empress." Fash turned back to his tactical board.
The bridge of the Necropolis was huge, and filled with tactical commanders, each coordinating a different area of the fleet. He didn't know when the dreadnaught was built, but it had served Talak as the flagship during the Exodus and even before as capital on their 'homeworld.' It's war mind - a Necrian man known only as Saer'khar - was no more than an emaciate mummy in a vat of nanite gel, preserved through centuries. Though his mind was still sharp, Fash often wondered how he'd managed to remain sane after such long periods of hibernation.

The fleet was made of over two hundred ships of SIN design, with an additional one hundred Hetaevan junkers filling it out. Though none of them expected the Xiscapians to be able to pull in significant reinforcements, it would be foolish to stack the board too high and show their full capability - which was considerably less than Fash would like when assaulting an intergalactic empire. Even with forces tied up against the Exiles, the SIN wouldn't have a chance if the KEX decided to focus revenge on them.
But the other option was to wait upon the whim of an Empire who had a better interest in claiming the entire Necrian people as a protectorate, and that had never even been broached by the Council.

"Remember, Grand Fleet Master," Rilaena said, scanning the tactical readouts by the command throne. "They'll likely follow doctrine and recruit civilian ships to aide in evacuation of the planet. I want as few casualties as possible. No unnecessary deaths. The Hetaevans have loaned us their grapple ships and the GSR have their tractor beams. Board and disable as many ships as you can."
"I understand, Empress," Fash replied, eyeing the squadron of Hetaevan frigates keeping a low profile in the middle of the fleet. "But if they fight back..."
"I said try, Fash. Unnecessary deaths. If they scuttle their ships, that's their business. Drop them and let them die for their Motherland."

While Fash looked ahead to prepare for the Xiscapian counter attack, the hunt-and-kill squadrons outside continued their mission. Clouds of Swarmer Drones skated among debris and mines, moving too fast to be targeted directly, but their numbers still took hits as the mines started to lash out.
As six of them detonated, a Ghast-class frigate took a combined strike and crumpled. Escape pods fired before the ship listed into the uncleared areas and was torn apart by an additional mine's detonation - though its beam of energy struck at the Necropolis - a target that flared Flux shields and dismissed the attack as if it were an insect.
Orders came down to pull all fighters and pickets into the 'safe zone' and as the fleet neared the end of the mine-free bay, lightning rose from the dreadnought once more.
It struck out, the chain reaction decimating another wide arc of mines, getting dangerously close to the Revan and her ship complements.
Before the energy had even completely dispersed, Nightshade fighters were darting back out into the field, targeting any mine they could find, followign the swarm clouds as they widened the girth of the invasion.
Ghoul picket squads continued to defend the fleets flanks, while the flagship rained lancer fire into the field, drawing ever closer to the Xiscapian defenses.

On the far side of the moon, under the blue glow of the gas giant, a KEX prode zoomed towards the termination of the inhibitor fields. Suddenly a capital ship lurched into real space, its hyperdrive gate whipping closed behind it. The giant dagger-like ship was followed by two other cruisers and five frigate-class ships, fighter squadrons already piling out into space.
Interceptors took the lead, baring down on the probe with single minded determination, even as a single interdiction cruiser erupted into existance behind them, its dense FTL-i fields blooming across the local area.
The Gythian Star Republic ships held position, targeting the loan probe and taking pot shots at any mines within reach.
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Fri Sep 23, 2016 1:07 am

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Street...


Gravity itself warped around Kaga and in the blink of an eye the whirling glass shards were flung away, scattering like shrapnel through the wind and rain as she stood. Her simple black jumpsuit didn't look heavily-armored, but the glass hadn't penetrated anywhere she wore it up to her face. Her harness kept the field up, invisible but flinging away pieces of window that flung themselves at her in imitation of his own powers. A long gash across one cheek dripped the vixen's blood as she faced him, the rain making crimson run down the right side of her snout. Yet her grin turned maniacal as his face contorted in a snarl.

Lancer fire blazed through the air around her, leaving steaming trails in the rain as the militia squad at one end of the street opened up on her. The bolts reflected off her shield or seemed to bend around her but that didn't keep the vixen from turning and sprinting at them, arms scything through the air as she charged directly at the Necrians grouped around their Scarab IFV. As shots flew around her the vehicle itself opened up, its heavy lancer scattergun lighting up the street with a blast that would have tore apart a squad of infantry, but Kaga passed through it like it hadn't even been there and then she was among the soldiers. The closest swung the butt of her rifle at the kitsune and she disarmed her with a motion too quick for anyone but Faeden to see, seizing her lancer and tossing woman and rifle away to crash through the wooden cover over a store window. The rest of the squad was backing up to try to give their Scarab a chance to fire again, and before Kaga could move Faeden was there.

She turned on him just in time for him to force a chunk of pavement through her shields that sent her flying. She skidded and rolled down the wet street before regaining her footing with a flip just meters away from the Scarab. The vehicle's turret tracked around but she closed the gap to get under its gun, ripping the side hatch away with one hand as casually as she might have torn a poster off a wall. She never got the chance to enter before he was on her, more pieces of the city throwing themselves at her as he approached. She batted away a lamppost as the Scarab slid away from her, driver maneuvering for the gunner to get a shot.

A gravitic wave from behind Faeden picked him up off his feet and threw him, sending the man tumbling through the rain before he twisted and landed on his feet in front of the Scarab. He'd only just pivoted when Kaga's roundhouse kick slammed into his temple and cracked his head against the front of the Scarab, denting the metal as he dropped. The next thing he knew she was straddling him as if in perverted imitation of those nights they'd shared, her hands around his wrists and tail tying his ankles together as her thighs clamped against his sides. Her eyes were wide and bright as she stared at him over a mad leer. She leaned in then, their lips almost touching as she gazed into his eyes. Even over the rumble of the Scarab's engine and the shouts of the militia he could hear her breathy whisper.

"I'll see you on Kor'laesha."

A sharp whistle drowned out everything and then there was nothing but fire.

XIS Jungle Girl, Cockpit...

Good hit, good effect on target, came over Second Lieutenant Vadim Krupin's neural link as his Shuriken bolted over the center of the city, and the Greali man breathed a sigh of relief. He'd only carried out anti-armor strikes in simulators before, but the real thing hadn't been too different. Scanners had picked out one of the militia Scarabs sitting outside the Government Center, he'd received authorization to engage, locked on, armed, and released the missile. As he banked around for another pass he watched the shared feed from one of his wing mates as the sensors showed the impact site. The Scarab was little more than a husk of burning metal that wavered in the rain, the squad that had been nearby vaporized in the strike, but he felt his ship wobble and turned his attention back to fighting with the typhoon for control of the fighter. The gravitics made it easier so he was able to pull around and watch as the fifty-meter Hammer dropship floated behind the Government Center, bays open as it disgorged its company of Imperial Marines. The smaller half-dozen Spiral shuttles were landing right among the buildings, one setting down on the roof of the Number 6 building. He couldn't see any fire from the militia, which he hoped meant that the initial strikes had killed off the platoon.

Contact! the call went out from his Alversian flight leader as she highlighted the offending craft. That's the Necrian ambassador's ship. Vadim watched as the scanners came back on it. He tapped the First Lieutenant.

Cleared to engage, ma'am?

She's made no hostile acts that we know of, we do not have permission to engage. That being said, he could almost hear First Lieutenant Rowan's tone tightening even over the emotionless link, I want warning shots across her bow. Let's try to scare her off.

Copy that, Vadim waggled the wings of the Jungle Girl and peeled off after his flight leader along with her other wing mate. Better than nothing, he thought privately as they swung around to put the Necrian ship in their sights. Rowan fired first and Vadim followed, thumbs snapping down on the triggers. The anti-proton blasts were invisible to the naked eye but there was no mistaking on the sensors how they lashed in front of the nose of Mercy.

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers...


Akran had barely looked down at Ceilia, but the same didn't go for all of the delegates. As the Knight Commander trembled and choked her one good eye made out a boot, and she could raise her head just enough along the leg it was attached to so she could see Yanji's face staring down at her. The other Necrian's sharp teeth were bared and her eyes burned as she lifted her boot and stomped down on Ceilia's head, smashing her face into the floor to make her fall limp. Without a word she stripped the woman's sidearm from her before tying her wrists and ankles and hoisting her up into a fireman's carry. When she looked around the only representatives not watching were Jan and Alyana; Falean, Tavin, Shuji, and Kelaetra all stared. Yanji curled her lip at them.

"She's my prisoner now. Any of you have a problem with that?"

"Down!" Akran yelled as Mercy hovered level with the building, ducking the lancer fire that blew through the windows as he threw a device to the floor. The shield generator expanded into a wall of solid light even as the Yddrian soldiers leaped through the gap, fire impacting uselessly on the barrier as the tod rolled over and raised an arm. It folded back onto itself, fingers splitting and curling at impossible angles as his limb split down the middle to reveal a barrel, and he jolted with the recoil as the grenade flew through the shield and burst among the soldiers. The shield kept the smoke and machine parts confined to the narrow gap by the windows as he stood, ears perked and swiveling as he glanced back at the delegates. "Stay down," was all he said as he stepped over to the wall by the door.

It was flung open and as Fel burst in Akran caught him around the neck. He pulled the Necrian flush to him, claws lengthening to prod at the soldier's throat as he stepped into view of the militia in the hall, the officer's body held fast between him and them. "Weapons down," he ordered promptly, the tips of his claws making painful indentations on the armor around Fel's neck as they cut through effortlessly. "Now," he uttered as Yanji also stepped into view, pistol held level past Akran as she carried the Knight Commander's weight over her shoulders. "There are Imperial Marines landing throughout the complex. This is the only way any of you survive."

Number 6
Lobby...


Panting as he leaned against the wall, Dai watched in disbelief through his fiber-optic camera as Herak's suit laboriously got up again. He didn't believe for a moment that the man was still alive, even a Hetaevan couldn't survive that, but it was evident that his armor was still functional. Some kind of automated pilot program, he thought as the armor still holding the man's corpse in it lumbered over to the front door with machine gun in hand. Did it forget about me? Maybe it's not aware of what happened. His hands tightened on the SMG he'd taken. How do I kill it?

If it hadn't been for his cybernetics and his tail the roar of the blast as it reverberated through the building would have made him fall deafened, but as it was the tod braced against the wall with his gun clutched to him. More blasts came from all around as he knelt down, huddling to present a smaller target for any shrapnel that might come through. His ears jumped as he made out the low hum that signaled the approach of Imperial landing craft and lifted his head, trying to figure out how many and where they were coming in. He couldn't hear any fire so he supposed that was a good sign, whatever first strike taking out the traitorous militia before the landing. A louder whine from behind him got him to watch either end of the corridor through his helmet's sensors even as he kept an eye on Herak's armor. It emerged beyond the door uncaring for the rain and wind beyond, only for fire to dance around its feet and stitch patterns across the street to it as the transports' autocannons opened up.

Dai didn't get the chance to see the result as he caught the tramp of boots coming from the right corridor. He pointed the barrel of his SMG at the ground as a fiber-optic like his own peeked around the corner. "Identify yourself!" came the vox-heavy voice.

"Major Dai, Xiscapian Imperial Army," he exhaled slowly. "I'd say my serial number but I don't think I need to."

The Imperial Marine stepped around the corner, the vixen leading her squad up to him. "Second Lieutenant Hojo," she said by way of introduction. He could almost feel her sensors focusing on his bloody hip and limp arm. "We'll bring up a medic."

"Not yet," he waved that off. "I heard gunfire upstairs, where the delegation is. You need to extract them. Now."

"Sir," she flicked her tail and the squad moved up, meeting another at the stairs. "You really should fall back to the perimeter, sir. You're in no condition to fight like that."

"Tell that to Herak's corpse. I'm staying here until we get the delegation out, lieutenant," he eyed the front lobby again through his fiber-optic as the Xiscapian soldiers trotted up the staircase to the second floor. "Any survivors outside?"

"A few wounded, both ours and militia. They're being extracted now, sir."

"Good. What about the rest of the company?"

"I don't know, sir. We were just told to secure the complex and extract the delegation and any civilians. Though I guess there's not many of them left."

"Not on this floor," he focused on her. "This is the prelude to invasion, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. There's a Necrian fleet already in-system. Evacuation's underway."

"Fuck," Dai leaned his head back against the wall. "I don't get it. Why? Why attack us? Why kill all these people? What's the fucking point?"

Hojo didn't say anything for a moment. "I don't know, sir. But we're going to make them pay."

That made him smile a little. "That we will, lieutenant. But we have other objectives at the moment. Let me know when the delegation is secured." If there's anything left to secure.

"Yes sir."

Fel'tethra Outskirts...

By the time Faran's face came onscreen Koiwa knew something was wrong. She could smell the anxiety on Nax, a pungent aroma that she knew had nothing to do with the sinkhole. They had been in worse spots before and all he'd done was snort and grumble, but now he was tense, alert in a way she'd never seen him outside of a combat situation. The vixen glanced between him and Faran. She didn't know the dockhand well, and as far as she knew neither did Nax. It couldn't be something between them. Could it? The other Necrian glanced at her and she frowned a little. Then Nax cut the connection and she turned her head to face him.

"Koiwa...We... need to talk..."

"Yeah, no shit," she said as she sat down in the co-pilot's seat next to him. Her tail swished back and forth in agitation before she stilled it with conscious effort. She looked into the old man's eyes, trying to find any sign of what he was going to say. An idea struck her after a moment. "The others are away, and we just so happened to get stuck in a sinkhole. Did you and Lucky plan this so we'd be alone?" she narrowed her eyes at him. "Nax, what's going on?"
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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Necrisis
Diplomat
 
Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Wed Sep 28, 2016 12:30 pm

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Street


Faeden flew after Kaga as she aimed for the Necrian milita. He reached her just as teh Necrian woman flew into the store front, street pavement peeling up around him as he crashed it down on her.

”Mercy: I have heavy contacts. Status report.”
“The Delegate Task Force is combating a heavily modified Kitsune. Appears to be Kaga’s accomplice. There are troops on the ground and in the building. The mission is in jeopardy.”
“Launch the rest of the Yddrians. I need Destroyers on the ground down here. Fleet status?”
“Still almost an hour out - at best.”
“Tight Beam to the Necropolis. I need Forcemen on the ground now.”
“Understood, Master.”


Kaga had already moved once again on the Scarab, but Faeden was tearing the street apart, the Necrian militia running for cover. They didn’t know what was going on, but this was a battle between gods. When the tank couldn’t take her down, they knew there was little they could do.
Faeden felt a pulse within the Aether he was linked to and he felt Fel’drak’s alarm then resolution. The plan was fouled - once more because of her.
Because of him.
His whole nation had depended on him. On a hollow man, a flawed man. It was impossible to tell if his meeting with her had alerted her. If he had stayed away, maybe things would have gone smoother.
Maybe if he hadn’t been so resolved for war, he could have counseled Rilaena away from it.
Made something work.
But this was their course of action. And he needed his clarity.

He was was torn from his momentary reflection to recover from her gravity pulse and sledgehammer-like kick just in time for her to grapple him.

"I'll see you on Kor'laesha."

The explosion tore the air apart, the Scarb’s shields holding up for only the briefest of moments before it too was engulfed.
Faeden felt his psionic barrier flare up just in time for it to take the brunt of the explosion, and he watched as Kaga’s grinning face was immolated. His barrier’s fell and the end of the thundering fire singed his skin. He only realized now that the explosion had thrown them into the air. He crashed into a building, tearing through two walls before coming to a stop.

Faeden struggled to one knee, his cloths tatters and rags, barely holding his modesty together. The smoke cleared and he could see fighters peel overhead. The Scarab was gone - nothing but warped metal and charred Loyalist Militia. The street was rubble and cracked duracrete, pools and riverlets already forming from the busted water mains and torrents of rain.
His world spun and he caught himself just before he face-planted into the floor.

Kaga would not have thrown her life away like that unless she had an escape plan. Perhaps they were more alike than he believed? But his body could take that punishment. He wasn’t done here. Not yet.

”Master, I am being fired upon. Yddrian Destroyers are deploying, but one has insisted on covering my escape. Orders?”
Faeden tried to speak - instinctively even though his throat was burned and slag by now - before he remembered to activate the link.
“Mercy… You must recover Fel’drak and his squad. Akran is a Class...S threat. Kaga… her status is unknown…I am returning to finish this.”
“Understood Master Faeden.”

Faeden let the darkness in his mind and heart consume him, the red cascade of psionic energy pouring from him, setting the air on fire with a shimmering steam, the rain hissing at him.

It occurred to Faeden as he trudged through the rain towards Number 6, that Mercy had sounded a little sad. He supposed, he would be too.

There was a groan from a nearby storefront, and Faeden veered off course to stumble into the building’s mostly open wall - rubble and melted glass shifting themselves away from him.

The Necrian soldier that Kaga had tossed like a doll was laying on the floor, arm at a painfully impossible angle behind her, lancer to one side. Her eyes were glazed with pain but they focused on him in horror and disbelief.
I probably look like a demon, Faeden thought as he knelt next to her - more falling to his knees than any controlled lowering of his body. He didn’t speak - couldn’t - but knew the poor soul would not care what he would say.
I am sorry, Faeden mouthed, reaching down for her helmet and releasing it.
She felt nothing else as his mouth closed over her jugular and his sharp teeth met her pulse.
If they had followed protocol, none of the Militia should be clean of the H-NV. He could use the dormant nanites in their blood to repair some of his damage, but he wouldn’t retain control for long - not with the Necropolis in system.
But… it might work.

She struggled for only a moment before gasping out her last words - “As One we are… Legion…” - and fell limp in his morbid embrace.
Faeden felt a great sadness overcome him - a sadness he quickly converted into anger.
There was no peace for the damned, no hope for his wretched soul or mind. There was only eternity.
He was a shadow - forever more.

He stood and felt the coldness of Saer’khar’s mind start pulsing in his veins as the nanites went to work, guided to his wounds by his psionics.

Stepping once more into the rain, feeling even his most grievous wounds knit over, forming dark, metallic scars, Faeden launched himself into the air, making his way back up to the Delegates.

Her Merciful Lance
Number 6


Two Yddr EDN Destroyer’s marched out of Mercy’s hold, one of them using its magnetic coils to climb her outer hull, weathering the typhoon without effort. It gathered itself, hunkering down as it sighted down on Jungle Girl and its squadron.
A lance of burning red energy split the night and storm, the heat and volume of the beam creating a sonic blast. It tore through the fighter’s shields and wing, sending it into a death spin that only a truly seasoned pilot would survive. Before the others could circle around, the Yddrian fired again, its single red eye emitting a focused beam of light into yet another fighter.

Meanwhile, the other Yddrian Destroyer smashed into the floor below, it tracking sensors already painting Akran through the floor. It fired, a blazing hot beam cutting through the tile floor.

Fel didn’t say anything to his squad and they didn’t need it.
None of them knew who the man was - clearly no common Night Guard - but he didn’t look worried.
There was a calm disinterest in his eyes - eyes that shimmered blue.
The burst that cracked the air between Akran and Fel threw them both away from each other and the Necrian Troopers fired, rallying to either side of the door. One of them grabbed Fel and dragged him free, just as the Destroyer’s eye beam burned through the floor and the floor above, cutting all the way to the roof.

“We don’t have many options,” Fel snarled, rubbing the gashes of blood from his throat, the wounds closing with flickers of blue light. Minor wounds like that were no problems to properly trained psionic talents. “But we have to hold them. Mercy, do you copy?”
Yes Master Fel’drak. Faeden is returning. Please hold your ground.
“Fel, if we hold,” the squad medic said, ducking back as Yanji’s stolen lancer burned through the doorframe. “We’re dealing with a lot of soldiers in short order. It’s not going to take them long before-”
The Destroyer plowed through the floor beneath them, caving in the black marble tile as it hauled itself out of the gaping hole and spun, its single eye burning.
“Down!” Fel yelled, dragging his soldiers to the floor with a psychic wump. The Destroyer’s eye ignited the air as it tore into the room beyond with a fury that seemed strange for a machine.
“Fel’drak,” it intoned, its voice a heavy thump in his chest, even as it accessed the private comm channel co-ordinated by Mercy. “Retrieve the Knight Sworn. Kill the rest. The Delegates are now Priority Two.” A hardlight shield leaped into existence as Akran fired another grenade into the hallway, limiting the blast field to the inside of the conference room. “Faeden will deal with them. Secure the Knight and escape with Mercy.”
“Who the Void is this guy to give us orders?” One of the Necrian Night Guards blanched as a smattering of lancer fire clattered against the shield. The Destroyer pinned him with its eye.
“I am Yddrian, Child Eternal of ARCHON, Defender of my People - and now your’s.” He glared back into the room, eye blazing once more. The shield dropped and fire tore into the conference chambers again, the Destroyer marching in after it, pouring more and more energy into the beam, sweeping it side to side.
“He also has a laser face,” the medic chided, readying her Lancer. “That’s why. We’re ready to follow, Master Fel’drak. Hope you know how to use those powers, sir.”
Fel’drak’s grin sent a shiver down her spine.

The six of them charged in after the Destroyer, Fel leaping over the hole in the floor and coasting across, light sword ignited and aimed for Yanji. The rest split fire between Yanji, Akran and the Delegates as Akran back peddled away from the walking tank.

Number 6
Lobby


Cori studied the carnage outside as her ladar painted a dropship, autoguns tearing up the road as they tracked to her.
She sighed and dumped energy into her Stormgard shields, depressing the trigger on Harek’s gun, spraying the area in front of her with thousands of heavy munition rounds - the kind that some would reserve for anti-armor purposes. Locking onto Mercy’s signal, the digital entity tight beamed herself into the ship’s network, instantly loading into the rudimentary ECM package the ship carried.

Far below, Harek’s body took direct shots, blood and armor flying - yet his gun fired until the sheer force of impact knocked the armor down, where it lay, unmoving.

But the Yddrian wasn’t finished with her games. Cori, had left a little present behind. The Hetaevans used a very limited and crude but still remarkable nuclear core for their suit’s power - or at least Herak’s aged armor.
Regardless, the dirty proximity mine that now sat on the front steps of Number 6 would give any Xiscapian force a nasty shock.

As her armored mobile units took the fight to the KEX, Cori laid down a local jammer, bending targeting information on Mercy until the ship all but disappeared from the computer screens and communications networks. With a Destroyer taking pot shots any anything it could find - now enhanced by her battle net - and the fighters unable to locate Mercy without line of sight, the ship was almost invisible.

Fel’tethra
Outskirts


"The others are away, and we just so happened to get stuck in a sinkhole. Did you and Lucky plan this so we'd be alone? Nax, what's going on?"

Nax sighed and rubbed his eyes - a strange, tired moment for the old captain who was always alert, always in command of himself. “Well... no time like the last time, right?"

He stood, gripped her wrists and pinned them above her, roughly kissing her.
It was brief, unsure and she could smell the conflict, the anxiety on him.
And then he pulled back, leaving her hands cuffed to a grip-handle on the low cockpit ceiling.

"Lucky, lock down the system and ready your old NID IFF. Just in case. I'm sorry, Koiwa." He stepped beyond the door and it sealed with a hiss and thud. His voice came in over the intercom and she could see him over the internal cameras. He was watching one of them, as if he knew she was staring back.

“The Solar Imperium is setting to invade the KEX’s Necrian Sector. They probably already have a fleet in system and right now the Loyalists of Necrisis are raising the Hells against the local garrison.
“Most of them will treat this like the war zone it is. They will fight and die as soldiers. Others might not even turn, instead they will stand by your people and defend the homes and friends they’ve made. This won’t be easy for any of us, but least of all for those who seek to take from those they see as unworthy. They seek to take from you. Take everything from you.” His eyes sparked - sadness and anger combined. “I’m worried about Nigi and her kids. Faran isn’t a nice man and before the Dominion left them high and dry, he owned a spaceport - not too much unlike this one. He’ll want his revenge on those who he sees as having taken it from him. I have to go and make sure they’re safe. But that means I can’t take you with me. I’m not going to risk it, Koiwa. I wouldn’t live knowing that I used you to kill men that deserve it, only to stab you in the back.”
“Lucky won’t open the doors for you, Koiwa. He knows better. And don’t come after me if you do. Just take Lucky and bug out. Get the others if you can and tell them… I’m sorry.”

Nax holstered his pistol and pulled on a heavy coat, heading for the landing bay, down the ramp and into the torrential rain.
From the cockpit, Koiwa would be able to see him slog through the mud and rain, heading for the little conning tower.

Fel’tethra
City Center
66 Clarion Street, Aprt 601
(One Hour Ago…)


“... It certainly looks as if Typhoon Rama is going to miss Fel’tethra proper, but those of you in the outskirts are advised to-”
Sanjia turned off the broadcast and placed the steaming bowls of raman down in front of herself and her son.
The young tod was as white as fresh snow, hints of steel grey at the roots of his fur, yet his crimson, slitted eyes matched hers perfectly, even though at seven years old a Necrian child would still have the pale silver. He seemed to grow remarkably fast.
“So, Aroji,” she said, digging into her own bowl. “How was the academy visit?”
Aroji shrugged. “Okay.”
“Just okay?” Sanjia frowned. “Was it not what you expected?”
“No. It was exactly as I expected it Mother. Just…” he fell silent under the pretense of eating noodles, but Sanji had seen his ears fall slightly. After being with Kazuki for almost nine years, she’d become adept at reading Kitsune body language.
“Did someone say something to you?”
Aroji didn’t meet her gaze, which was as good as a yes for her. Sanjia sighed and placed her utensils down. “Who?”
“...I don’t want to say…”
“Aroji, who was it? It’s not okay to pick on you because of who you are.”
“Mother, the last time I said something you got in trouble with the headmaster.”
Sanjia was about to say something but bit her tongue.
She had threatened to make the little boy and his bore of a father ‘vanish’ so perhaps it had been warranted.
She tried again. “Aroji… there will always be those who see you as different. They won’t see your beautiful eyes or your soft fur. They won’t see your amazing talents and shining soul-”
“Just my freaky tail. And only losers have ‘shining souls,’ Mother. It’s just what parents say to console the foolish.”
Sanjia coughed a little. He certainly had his father’s bluntness. “And who told you that?”
“Nathilia Crosh.”
“Well Nathilia Crosh is a moron.”
“Mother!”
“What? She is.”
“No she’s not,” Aroji said with a fervor that made Sanjia glance at him sidelong - a habit she’d picked up from her Kitsune coworkers. Aroji’s ears pinked and he quickly tried to force down the last of his raman.
“Okay,” Sanjia said democratically dropping the subject.

As the rain lashed at her window, Sanjia flopped into her bed, bringing up the holotransmitter in her watch. She and Kazuki often chatted while he was on base. At this time of night he was usually in his bunk and she hoped that she’d be able to catch him before lights out. As first time parents they had done remarkably well as not fucking Aroji up, but his schoolboy crush might be a bit much.
Particularly if he was being bullied by the same girl.

It rang a few times before blipping over to voicemail. She sighed and tapped ‘leave message.’

“Hey there Soft-Ears. It’s me. I know you’re probably busy saving the world and stuff, but let me know as soon as you get this. I’m worried Aroji’s being bullied again. I know we want him in the Academy, but I’m starting to think the Xiscapian one might be a better fit. I’m just worried he won’t know anyone there. I think the poor little thing as a crush too, so… there’s that new wrinkle.
“Hope you’re staying dry out there. Hopefully you get some leave soon so let me know so I can work out some vacation time with the Shipyards. Love you. Bye.”

As she hung up the call and the hologram faded, Sanjia stepped over to the window, getting ready for bed.
She had a perfect view of Number 6, the government center building. She didn’t pay too much attention to the speculation news on the new Necrian government - the Solar Imperium of Necrotia - but she was still aprehensive. She hadn’t heard much about or from her father since she’d escape the dominion - though someone had made an attempt on her life nearly five years ago. They’d never recovered the body, and while it had mostly faded from her mind, Sanjia was Necrian.
She was always paranoid and the Dominion had never reached out to another government before the Xiscapians.
Perhaps Talak’s daughter had taken rule of the SIN. Sanjia didn’t know much about Mistress Rilaena Necrythan, but she’d always been a fan of Emperor Talak and his daughter had seemed even closer to the people.
She sighed and got ready for bed, tossing on a soft, over large shirt and silk pants. As she passed by the windows again, however, her keen eyes made out something across the city.
Lights.
Flashes of crimson.
Lancer fire.

She had already grabbed her coat and Aroji’s before the holocaster turned itself on with an emergency broadcast.
It was mostly static - heavy jamming fields already blanketing civilian networks - but Sanjia made out the shapes of Necrian space ships and the telltale pulse of Cascade Engines exiting the Cascade.
A war fleet.
“Aroji. Aroji, wake up.”
The small boy didn’t complain or ask why. His crimson eyes were still half-hooded as she bundled him into his coat and dragged him out into the apartment corridor and down two doors to her friend, Yidan.
The man and his Necrian partner were always willing to watch Aroji for her, but more importantly, Yidan and Arkar were trained militia.

“Yidan! Yidan, open the bloody door,” Sanjia said, pressing the bell. The portal slid open and Sanjia gasped.
“San,” Yidan said, stepping away from the door and gesturing her to enter with the pistol in hand. “Please. Come in.”
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Thu Sep 29, 2016 6:57 am

XIS Talon-2, Cockpit...

In the opinion of First Lieutenant Wakuri the entire combat drop had been interesting from the very start. The vixen had participated in landings during the Great Patriotic War but those had all been under good conditions, the occasional marauding Conger fighter or MANPADS-armed Danaversian excepted. But this was different: scrambling Imperial Marines off their carrier to rescue HVTs in the middle of a typhoon as the city erupted into chaos. It was the stuff of legends. If nothing else thinking of it like that kept her spirits up and off the fact that she had no idea whether her family was still alive.
So when the armored suit smashed through the front doors of Number 6 and hefted a machine gun, she welcomed things getting even more interesting.

Engage that target, she ordered her copilot even as she jerked the joysticks, making her Hammer dropship ponderously swing itself around to face the new threat. Second Lieutenant Williams confirmed as he switched from the stern cannons to the dorsal and ventral ones with a thought, panels peeling back to deploy the 20mm cannons. They tracked for a moment as the xenan locked on to the gore-covered suit, ignoring the machine gun fire that made the shields of the Talon-2 flare with the impacts where the rain hissed off them. Wakuri held steady: at 50 meters her ship was so large that evasive maneuvers against the lone combatant wouldn't have had much effect, and she didn't want to throw off Williams's aim. Her neural link brushed against her neck as she tilted her head, eyeing the man suicidal enough to take on her ship in the open armed with nothing but a machine gun.

Engaging. She'd barely comprehended Williams's thought before both cannons opened up with their signature bbbrrrrrrttt. Both guns stitched a path to the lone warrior and one of his arms was immediately shredded, armor and flesh bursting out into the rain, but he only adjusted his weight and continued to fire. Another spray of rounds found his leg and as that was torn away too he dropped to one knee, somehow still able to keep his weapon up until a final stream punched through his center mass and sent the entire suit keeling over to lie still. Williams didn't stop, bursting with the guttural roars of the 20mms until the threat was little more than a pile of undifferentiated metal and meat. Target neutralized.

Copy that. Good shooting, she frowned. You know, I don't think that target was really alive. Not sustaining damage like that. Some kind of heavy cyborg?

Ma'am, Williams cut across her speculation. My sensors are picking up significant radiological readings off the target. That suit might have been atomically powered.

Copy that. I'll send out an advisory for the troops to steer clear. She'd hardly made the transmission before an incoming signal squelched in her head and a new presence entered.

Talon 2, this is Captain Kisara of J Squadron, callsign Jungle Lead, the vixen in charge of one of Revan's fighter squadrons came in. The Necrian ambassador's ship, codename Mike, has been confirmed hostile but is deploying heavy jamming. My flight cannot get a fix to engage. You are to move to engage target Mike and paint it with your scanners so we can fix and finish. Be advised that target Mike has already inflicted casualties on my squadron. How copy, over.

Five by five Jungle Lead, Talon 2 copies. Wilco. Over and out. Wakuri took her sticks again and the Talon 2 maneuvered back up the street through the gusting storm. She'd been aware of the ship during the drop but there had been no authorization to engage it. Now it had earned Kisara's ire. The dropship rounded the corner of Number 6, keeping the bulk of the building between it and Mercy for as long as possible until it appeared to face the other ship from behind. With visual contact established it was simple enough to highlight the target with a laser that burned through the rain, giving the fighters something to go after.

Engage- Wakuri never even got the chance to finish her thought before the red beam flared from the Yddrian Destroyer atop the Mercy and Williams swore as the view of his dorsal gun cut out, the cannon sheared away by the blast that cut right through the dropship's weakened shields. For that Wakuri yanked back on the controls, jerking the Talon 2 high to avoid more fire before pivoting and angling the nose down to reestablish the laser's contact. A damage klaxon blared but she disabled it with a thought, well aware. Engage, engage! As Williams's other cannon opened up Wakuri followed her own advice, depressing the triggers on her joysticks for invisible streams of antiprotons to lash out at the Yddrian Destroyer and the ship beneath it.

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Court Session Chambers...


Whether the blast separating him from Fel was to escape the Yddrian energy beam or simply Akran himself the tod never knew, but it let him sail back and duck away as his one-time hostage was pulled back to safety. The militia fired blindly through the doorway as he stepped to one side, sensors allowing him to check on the delegation without looking away. Yanji had pulled over the conference table and the group was huddled behind it, the governor of Fel'narsha sticking her lancer up to return fire with gritted teeth. He approved: between the way his claws had torn into Fel's throat and the small firefight they had bought themselves badly-needed time. Another blast from the Yddrian heated the room and burned through the makeshift barricade, disintegrating one of Tavin's aides where she lay, but Akran only fired another grenade into the hallway before stepping over to the far wall.

With the militia commander more hardy than he'd given him credit for and the Yddrian heavy in the mix they couldn't afford to wait for Imperial Marines to reach them. The Yddrian's energy blast had blown a small hole in the wall and he worked at enlarging it, rapidfire gravitic bursts shearing away even the heavy material until a low gap had been created. "Through the breach. Leave the prisoner," he ordered and the delegates were only too happy to flee, crawling and dragging each other in the bathroom that was on the other side. Yanji paused long enough to glare at him but she left the Knight Commander slumped where she lay and Akran ignored her. He had other concerns.

As the Necrian team burst in Akran shuffled back through the gap and dragged Ceilia in after him. Despite the sound of battle he hadn't been deaf to the Yddrian's sharp orders to the militia: the ambassador's bodyguard was now a higher priority than killing the delegation. That group had just finished pushing out through the bathroom door, and he could hear Imperial Marines on the other side from the heavy tread of their jackboots. They were secure -or at least they would be as long as he could keep the death squad on the other side away from them. So he laid the slack woman down on a toilet with a canister of M-Wrap and spoke through the hole in the wall near the floor.

"If you're looking for your Sworn Commander I have her here, so I wouldn't advise any more energy blasts or grenades if you truly value her life," he said. The M-Wrap oozed across her body, covering her armored body in slick metamaterial that forced her to cross her arms over her chest and tuck her legs in, curling into a helpless and thoroughly-restrained ball on the toilet seat; it was hardly necessary considering she was unconscious and still suffering under the effects of Kaga's poison, but it was always better to be safe. Judging by the lack of soldiers trying to crawl through the hole or Yddrians trying to knock the wall down it seemed the Necrians thought the same. "So we're just going to wait here. All of us, and that includes you, Master Kaer'Lahn," he couldn't help but smirk a little as he addressed Faeden. "I know your exact positions. If any of you try to leave that room, she dies faster than you could hit me."

The gambit was working. By now he knew the Imperial Marines would have the delegates on the first floor, and in the next minute they would be loaded aboard a transport and taken to safety. Akran stepped away from the gap. It would be difficult for them to get the M-Wrap off the Sworn Commander without his assistance, and just to slow them a little more he hooked a small grenade bouquet to the door of her stall. In a confined space live explosives would give even Faeden trouble.
"Kaga sends her regards," he said, and stepped out the bathroom door and into the hall beyond to find the first available window. He'd have to move fast to keep ahead of Faeden and his goons.

----

As the delegation trotted down the stairs Shuji kept close behind Kelaetra. One of the Imperial Marines had offered to carry Alyana but the woman's daughter had refused. She cradled her mother in her arms as they reached the first floor, meeting another squad of soldiers including one distinct from the others for his green armor contrasting their sable/navy patterns. He barely got the chance to glimpse them before they were being ushered outside into the rain that made his ears clasp against his head as he drew up his hood. "A shuttle's coming around now to pick you all up," the zillar staff sergeant called over the whistling of the wind and heavy fire from the next street over. "It'll take you to the spaceport and you'll be evacuated from there. There," she pointed as the long, slender body of a Spiral transport eased its way over the roof and started to set down.

It was only because he turned his head to look back down the street that he saw the police officer appear at the corner down the block. They ducked back a moment later and in the blink of an eye men and women in thick clothing were leaning around the same corner or ducking into buildings as lancers came up and flashed red. "Over here!" one of the Imperial Marines grabbed Falean and shoved him at the landing shuttle as the rest of the squad ran for their own cover. Shuji ducked back and saw Va half push and half carry Jan forward, staggering through the wind and rain before a lancer blast burned into his back and the Necrian dropped without a sound. He was still staring at the body when Kelaetra yanked him back into the entrance of a storefront.

Wishing he had a weapon, the kitsune glanced back. A hulking drakon Imperial Marine was shielding Jan with his body, heedless of the lancer fire streaking past as he hustled the lieutenant governor up the ramp of the shuttle. Falean and Tavin and his remaining aide were gone, leaving only the three Tyrasses and Yanji. The latter still had her lancer and even as Shuji watched she picked off the shooters with grim efficiency from where she knelt. "You've got to go!" an Imperial Marine shouted, but Shuji was never sure if it was for them or her because in the next moment Kelaetra was pulling at him again and he stepped out only to watch her scurry down the street with Alyana still in her arms and her head bowed against the wind and rain.

"Come on!" she yelled and he ran, the might of the typhoon whipping away the calls of the soldiers behind him as he sprinted after his wife. She had never led him wrong before. Thoughts that she had detected another trap went through his head as he ducked around a corner, jerking away from a lancer that burned through the window beside him before he dove into an alley. The whine of the shuttle taking off reached him and he looked back to see the black transport lifting into the air, stern gun howling death down at the partisans before it bolted away with half a dozen fighters covering it. Then a nearby shout of one of the shooters reached him and he turned to catch up with Kelaetra.

"Let me carry her," he fell in beside his wife, tails weaving anxiously behind him. He caught her glance sidelong. "Where are we going, Kelaetra?"

Joint Base Shield, HQ of the 1st Imperial Armored Brigade/6th Night Guards Militia...

The world resolved itself slowly around Staff Sergeant Kazuki. The first thing he truly became aware of was the fire licking at the ceiling and filling the mess hall's kitchen with smoke, colors blending and blurring but his sense of smell as strong as ever. He squeezed his eyes shut and raised a hand to wipe at them, only for his hand to come away bloody. The dazed tod stared at it as he tried to remember what had happened. He had been eating breakfast, or dinner as the nocturnal Necrian militia soldiers called it, and there hadn't been any hot sauce for his eggs so he'd walked back to the kitchen to see if he couldn't beg a bottle off one of the cooks. They were about to get a supply truck in, the silarian woman had told him. He looked over to where she'd been standing by the counter but there was nothing there except a pool of blood.

His eyes were drawn to the fire burning in the stoves and he belatedly realized that his hearing had almost completely abandoned him. It was slowly resolving thanks to his cybernetics as his medical diagnostic informed him, which also mentioned that he had received shrapnel damage to his face, a hairline fracture in his left elbow and right shoulder, and temporary paralysis in his left leg. He tried to raise his leg and sure enough it remained inert. Inhaling, he coughed and sagged over. I can't stay here. Turning himself over, he pulled himself along the floor by his right hand and passed by the body of a kaynin man he'd heard asking for raw meat behind him. The canine soldier was lying facedown on the floor, back little more than a bloody red mass.

Cybereyes unbothered by the smoke, he peered through the doorway that he reached. Most of the mess tables had been blown apart or tossed away, and their occupants with them; corpses and body parts seemed to be scattered everywhere, mixing red and black among bits of food and broken utensils. His hearing seemed to be getting better since he could hear the crackling of the kitchen fire, and that perception was confirmed as he heard a voice calling out. "Can anyone hear me?" the shape of one of the militia soldiers broke through the smoke, the man looking this way and that through the ruins. He didn't have so much as a scratch on him.

"Help," someone gasped off to the left and Kazuki turned his head. A vixen staggered through the smoky air, scarlet fur blackened with soot, and he saw that she was using a piece of rebar as a crutch; her left leg had been blown off at the knee. "Medic," she panted, tongue lolling, and the man stepped up to her. Without a word he pulled the rebar away and supported her under that arm, holding her steady as she slumped gratefully against him. His back was to Kazuki but he could still hear him.

"Shh, shh, you're alright," he said, his free hand dropping to his waist. Instead of a medical kit he drew his sidearm, and before Kazuki could so much as blink he pressed it against the kitsune's abdomen and pulled the trigger. She jerked once, twice, three times, ears jumping atop her head and tail whipping once, and then he let her fall gracelessly to the floor. He wiped some blood off his armor and turned away, and Kazuki turned himself over in turn, eyes shutting again as he tried to comprehend what he'd just seen. That wasn't even a mercy killing. He just murdered her.

"Anyone?" the Necrian called out again, and Kazuki opened his mouth.

"Help," he croaked, then put more force into it. "Help me."

Boots crunched across broken plates and as Kazuki opened his eyes the Necrian was leaning over him. "You're alright, I'm here," he said, and reached for his belt.

Kazuki raised a hand, unable to keep himself from wincing in pain. "Wait," he struggled to swallow, mouth dry. "I think I can walk. Help me up." The Necrian took his hand and Kazuki pulled hard. It made his shoulder tense as a bolt of pain shot through his arm but the man stumbled, surprised by the force, and as he leaned in Kazuki yanked his own lancer free from its holster and pressed it against the militiaman's helmet. He didn't get the luxury of seeing the killer's expression before he pulled the trigger, the gun firing silently and without the usual flare as it burned through his faceplate and the Necrian crumpled to the floor. Weapon in hand, Kazuki looked down at it and the writing stenciled along the barrel.
So I am always at your side -Sanjia

Pressing the faithful pistol back into its holster, he rolled the dead man over and found his canteen. Pulling it away, the tod tilted his head back and drank greedily, letting it run out over his face and down his chin so the bloody water dribbled onto the chestplate of his armor. Tossing it away as he finished, he tried his leg again and found it worked so he gingerly got to his feet. Apart from the smoke and fire nothing else moved in the mess hall. Drawing his helmet closed to filter out the smoke, he drew his pistol again and tracked back as best he could to where he'd been sitting with his section.

He had to walk carefully to keep from stepping on the bodies, and it was impossible not to walk through the blood. The further he got the worse the smell became, smoke and fire replaced by the stench of offal and death, and finally he retracted his helmet and fell to one knee before vomiting up his eggs into a pool of blood. Spitting, he stepped away and turned, suddenly dizzy. Everything looked the same in death. You're not thinking clearly. After a moment of swaying aimlessly in the middle of the destroyed hall, he tapped into his section's communications.

Madara? Llyl?

Neither the other tod nor the Greali woman responded. His suit was hermetically sealed but he felt cold. Gunfire and explosions were reverberating through the air from outside but he stood unmoving as he pictured the faces of his friends and comrades from 1st Section of the Recovery Platoon, A Company, 1st Engineering Battalion. Llyl had been thinking of growing her hair out a bit, but she hadn't been sure about it because one of the militia soldiers had told her that she liked the shaved look because it reminded her of Rilaena. He hadn't missed how the young private had started looking up pictures of Rilaena after that. Madara had been pouring over manuals on the brigade's tanks in hopes of getting transferred to an armored unit where he could work on repairing and maintaining the machines instead of just recovering them. Lieutenant Colonel Hatzor was going to get her armored units shipped out to the war against the Exiles, and he wanted to go where the action was.
Unwilling to chance stumbling over their bodies, Kazuki turned away and found his way to the back door.

The door itself had been blown off its hinges, so he poked his fiber-optic camera out into the driving rain and peered around. There were more bodies outside, Imperial and militia both lying on concrete or in the grass where they'd fallen between smoldering husks of vehicles. A FAR scout car was idling off to one side, the bodies of the militia who had been manning it all slumped over from where rounds had penetrated through the armor and yet leaving the vehicle itself intact. He scanned again but there was no movement and nothing appeared on his sensors. Wishing he had his rifle, Kazuki inhaled and sprinted across open ground to the barracks.

A lancer hissed and the beam passed directly in front of him, steaming in the rain before it burned into a patch of grass. He didn't slow down, sensors informing him of the sniper in one of the administrative buildings even as he bolted for the alley between barracks buildings. They fired again but the shot hit the ground just behind his feet before he ducked behind one of the barracks, panting as he held his pistol up and edged along the wall to the entrance of his barracks building. There was no time to wait for his heart to stop pounding. The door was open and a puddle of water had collected on the other side of the stoop. Taking a breath, he peeked his fiber-optic into his company's building.

More bodies, if only a couple. Checking the door for traps, he stepped through the door and looked down at the first. The naga-like body of the Sluissi EOD lieutenant was unmistakable, tail coiled around his midsection but unable to fully cover the lancer burns that had killed him. His vixen sergeant lay a few paces away, pistol still held limply in one hand while her sightless eyes stared at the ceiling. Forcing himself to move on, Kazuki looked left and right. Most of the dormitory rooms along the hallway were deserted, but every time he saw another member of his company they were lying dead.

Finally he got to the showers at the end of the barracks. With a last breath to steel himself the tod stepped inside. No one was among the stalls or the locker area, but the pungent aroma quickly led him into the communal showers. Kazuki stopped dead. The showers still trickled water down onto the mass of corpses scattered along the floor, covered in broken tiles from grenade blasts, and none of it was draining: if he stepped inside he would have been ankle-deep in bloody water. Closing the vents in his helmet, he made himself do just that, the scarlet water sloshing over his boots as he looked among the bodies. He recognized the face of Lieutenant Scapr, the commanding officer of the recovery platoon. The selonian's jaw was slack and he was missing an eye. The more he looked, the more of them he knew; soldiers from path-clearing, EOD, recovery, bridging, and the special boat platoon, all represented together in death.

A footfall reached him and Kazuki stepped back, pistol raised as he remembered the sniper. Had they sent militia after him, or come to finish what they'd started? You cornered yourself in the same room where all these people died. Stupid! The tod pressed back against the wall, then extended his fiber-optic around the corner. There was no one in the shower rooms yet, but there were approaching down the hallway. Moving slowly, he extracted himself from the water and crouched down by the row of sinks, head below a mirror as he waited with gun drawn.

The footsteps stopped in front of the shower door and he realized they were a small group, perhaps half a dozen judging by the shuffling. His grip on his weapon tightened. If they come in I can bounce a grenade into the hall and that might get most of them. If they rush in I can kill two, probably three of them if I can get the drop on them. His heart was pounding so fast it seemed incredible that they didn't hear it, but nothing happened.

A figure stepped through the door in front of him and he raised his grenade only to realize they were wearing the green of the Imperial Army instead of militia black. The armored figure, a human or near-human judging by the build, whirled on him with rifle raised and Kazuki lowered his pistol. "Friendly! I'm a friendly!" A beat passed and then six more soldiers crowded into the room, all but surrounding him. All of their voxes went off at once.

"They're everywhere Sarge, the whole fucking division turned on us-"

"Where's the rest of the company-"

"We can't contact division-"

"We can't find captain Acker-"

"Alright, shut the fuck up!" he cut a hand across it all and the soldiers immediately fell silent. "Give me a minute so I can figure out who you are." His HUD interfaced with his implants to inform him of the identifies of the seven troopers, all but one A company engineers of one kind or another. Three were escan men and the others were a variety of alien, including two human men, a centaur-like asteritaur, and the lone female of the group in the form of an escan-alumina halfbreed. Their roles were almost equally diverse, including the asteritaur who was apparently a heavy weapons specialist judging by the battle saddle on his back with its mounted autocannon, but the main thing he noticed was that none of them had a rank above corporal.
He was in charge.

"Now, one of you," he looked for the highest-ranking of them, "Corporal Wise. Give me a sitrep."

"Sir," the avalan nodded. "1st Armored is under attack by the 6th Night Guard division. As you can hear from all the gunfire and explosions we're fighting back, but from what I saw they hit the fires battalion and HQ the hardest to start with and that took out our communications with division and most or all of our mobile guns. Same for a lot of the armor. We've all managed to find each other though, and I thought we should head for the company barracks to see if we could find captain Acker or, well, anyone else from the company. Sir."

"You did good in coming here, corporal. Unfortunately I don't know where captain Acker is. I haven't been able to find anyone else from the company, but I'm pretty sure the two from my section are both dead," he felt a weight in his chest at that but pushed on. "Based on the casualties I've found here, we're down by at least one or two platoons, probably more. The important thing right now is that we stick together and fight as a unit."

"Yes sir. What are your orders?"

Kazuki hesitated. He'd never imagined himself having to take command of such a disparate squad-sized element, but then he'd never imagined that the 1st Armored Brigade would ever be attacked in its own base by its militia neighbors. The kitsune exhaled. "We both had the same idea of coming here, corporal, which means more of the company will probably try to do the same. So right now our priority is to secure this area for any other company members that return here. We'll split into two fireteams, you lead one Corporal Wise and I'll take the other. Our objective is to sweep this immediate area, and once we've cleared it there's a sniper who ambushed me on my way here that we should get rid of. Any questions?"

He could tell that the seven were looking at each other but none of them said anything.

"Good. Let's secure supplies from this building, anything you can scrounge that might be useful, and meet back at the entrance. Stay in pairs. Then we'll move out." They started to disperse in twos and he exhaled again.
Idly, one hand rubbed at the barrel of his pistol.

Fel'tethra, Streets...

In the backseat of the pickup truck Nagy huddled with Yana while Seito haggled with the owner of the starport over the price of starship fuel. The truck belonged to Nigi but the old vixen had let them and Seito take it on Koiwa's behalf to fetch fuel for the Nax's Luck since Nigi's own little port didn't have enough to completely refuel the freighter. While that had been kind of her, the vehicle was old and rust-eaten so the heater didn't work well, leaving both of them wet and shivering in the oddly cold climate of Fel'tethra. The bat abhuman knew she would have preferred to stay on the Luck, but Nax had encouraged her and Yana to go with Seito and they'd all gotten the message clearly enough. As soon as they were driving away Seito had remarked that the "old coot probably just wants alone time so he can fuck her" but Nagy wasn't so sure. The aged Necrian man had seemed troubled to her, but she didn't know what to make of it. What did it mean when a man who scowled at everything seemed uncomfortable with everything instead?

Wrapping a wing around Yana's shoulder and an arm around her waist, Nagy leaned her head against the woman's shoulder and tried to forget about it. Whatever was happening between Nax and Koiwa, she was sure they would work it out. All she and Yana had to do was make sure Seito didn't get ripped off buying starship fuel, and considering they'd already told him what a good price was that was mission accomplished. Sure enough after a few minutes the scruffy tod returned to back the truck into the little urban starport and Nagy and Yana both reluctantly got out to help him load a quartet of fuel drums into the pickup's bed. "Fucking predatory bastard, trying to charge me double just because of the typhoon," Seito grumbled as he hefted a barrel on each shoulder while Nagy and Yana had to work to lift one together. "I had to tell him I'd show him a real storm if he didn't stop trying to cheat me. Then he just said I'd get mine. Who's gonna do it, him?" he sneered as he pushed the last drum on and started to strap them down.

"Did you actually threaten him?" Nagy bit her lip as she looked over at Seito.

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's just this storm, is all. I'm sick of being stuck on this planet with nothing to do. I mean, you two have each other and so do Koiwa and Nax, and," after a moment Seito waved a dismissive hand. "Aw, forget it. I'm just gonna sleep when we get back and someone can wake me up when the storm is over."

The ride back through Fel'tethra's deserted streets was quiet after that. Nagy went back to cuddling with Yana, but her mind was on the kitsune in the driver's seat. Seito had always seemed like a bachelor to her, busy in bars and clubs whenever they came into port but never bringing anyone back for any length of time. It wasn't something she'd ever been able to do -Yana had been her first- but she wondered if her relationship with the Necrian woman had made even Seito start pining for a real significant other. The thought was almost sad but also oddly flattering.

Her thoughts were derailed as they turned the last corner before the outskirts of the city and were confronted by a roadblock. Two police cruisers were parked in the road, lights flashing and headlights making the rain appear starkly while reducing the four officers behind the vehicles to little more than black silhouettes in ponchos over their uniforms. "Aw, what the fuck is this," Seito groaned as he slowed the truck before halting a respectful distance away. One of the officers stepped around, lancer slung over his shoulder as he walked up to the driver's side window for Seito to crack it open. Nagy shivered as the influx of cold, wet air washed over her thin fur.

"This road is closed, sir," the man said. "Nothing coming or going. You'll have to turn around."

"Turn around? This is the only road to the spaceport we came from," Seito scowled at him. "What, are there downed trees or something?"

"Like I said, sir, the road is closed. Go home."

"What do you think I'm trying to do, officer? I live on a ship. You're the one keeping me from getting home!"

"Then you'll have to find some other accommodations."

"This is bullshit-" he was cut off as a rumble shook the ground. It could have been mistaken for thunder if it wasn't for the eruption of smoke and fire from within the city, and even as they all turned to look the red flashes of lancer fire lit up through the rain. Nagy stared, ears folding down. "What the fuck?" Seito breathed the words, but when he turned back he found himself looking down the barrel of the officer's carbine. The others had all raised their weapons as well.

"Step out of the vehicle."

"Am I under arrest? What the fuck is happening?"

"I swear to Necrisis I will shove my lancer up your ass and-" the officer wrenched the door open only for Seito to grab him around the throat. He choked and tried to pull away only for Seito to yank him in, slamming his head against the side of the truck so hard that it dented the metal in before he keeled over. Tires screeched on the road as he stepped on the gas before the truck shot forward, swerving hard around the roadblock and into the ditch before bouncing back out and onto the road. Nagy yelped and clutched at Yana, pulling her down as a lancer shot smashed through the back window to shower them in broken glass. Not daring to raise her head, she only looked up enough to see the flashing lights of the pursuing cruiser in the truck's rear view mirror.

"What are you doing!?" she yelled the words as rain trickled onto her back.

"Those assholes were about to shoot us!"

"They're shooting at us now!"

"Yeah but this way we're not dead!" he checked his rear view mirror and snarled. "Fuck! Take the wheel!"

"You're crazy!"

"Damn it Nagy! Yana!" his eyes met hers in the mirror. "I need you to take the wheel, or they're going to ram us off the road. I'll get them off us but you need to drive!"

Fel'tethra Outskirts...

“Well... no time like the last time, right?"

Koiwa didn't get the chance to ask him what he meant before he stood and pressed her back against the bulkhead. She grunted into the kiss, reciprocating almost reflexively before the stench of his fear coiled in her nose and she wrenched her head away. By then the cuffs were around her wrists and she pulled at the restraints, then again all the harder as she realized what was happening. It wasn't like he'd never tied her up before, but this was different. "Nax-" was all she managed to get out before he stepped away and out the hatch.

It sealed and after a moment his face appeared on the camera monitor just outside the cockpit. Koiwa stared at him, teeth gritted as he explained himself. It almost didn't make sense, but she knew him too well to misunderstand. He had duty, principles, and love, and he was doing the best he could to uphold all of them. Unless. No. She tried to push the notion out of her head, it was stupid and meaningless and yet she couldn't keep herself from thinking it.
He never said he loved you.

"Nax!" she screamed his name as he walked up the trail to the tower, but of course he couldn't hear her. She pulled hard against the cuffs, rattling metal on metal and snarling from deep in her throat, but they held fast. She jerked a final time and went still, panting as her tail lashed. This wasn't the right way to go about it. If she brute-forced it then she could probably tear the grip out of the bulkhead, but that would take time she didn't have. He's assuming I'll escape. He knows I'll try to stop him. She inhaled. There was no point in asking Lucky for help, the A.I. was too loyal to Nax, but maybe she wouldn't have to.

There was a drawer under the control panel and she stretched her foot to it. Her claws popped out as she strained, cursing her shorter Kukan legs as she leaned in at the very limits of the slack afforded to her. It wasn't enough, so she half turned and thrust her butt out, longer tail weaving out to wrap its end around the handle. Pulling it out, she yanked the entire drawer out and pulled it along with her tail to look down at the contents. It was too much to hope that Nax had left a spare set of keys lying around, but that didn't mean there was nothing that could help her. First aid kit, cigar cutter, old music player, business card, notepad, map -ahha! Putting one foot into the drawer, she squeezed a paperclip between her toes and slowly lifted it out.

This would be the hardest part. Letting her wrists go slack, Koiwa wrapped her fingers around the cuffs and leveraged herself up by time, grunting as the metal cut into her skin. Cuffs and bar alike supported her weight as she spread her legs and raised them high, curling into a ball with her knees against her snout as she held her feet as close to her hands as she could. It would have been quite the show if there had been anyone to witness it, but as it stood there was only Lucky. "I hope you're recording this," she growled as she managed to push the paperclip between grasping fingers. She was trembling by that point and let her legs fall with a grateful sigh as she bent the paperclip between her fingers. From there it was a relatively simple matter to work the end into the keyhole and depress the lock so the cuffs popped open. Leaving them hanging, she dropped the paperclip back into the drawer and stalked out of the cockpit.

It was the work of less than a minute to pull on her armored jumpsuit, strap her utility belt to her waist complete with pistol, and duck back out into the hold to where the airlock was located. "I don't have time to fuck around with you, Lucky," she said as she stepped into the compartment. "If you don't let me out, I'm going to get the plasma cutter and I'm going to cut my way out of your hull. You won't like that, and neither will I. So open the fucking airlock and let me out."
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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Necrisis
Diplomat
 
Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Fri Sep 30, 2016 10:23 am

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building


Mercy turned so that her rear doors were only meters from the building - which also exposed her lancer cannons to Talon-2.
But the small, if powerful, blasts were nothing compared to the Yddrian's blast.
It whipped out, breaking the sound barrier with a soft 'whump' and burning away the rain as it tore into the engine housing of the Talon. Even so, the deluge of antiprotons smashed into Mercy's shields, lighting her up even brighter than the laser targeting.
But she did not waver, keeping her position as the Yddrian lashed out again with its eye-beam, cutting a harsh and unyielding line of deadly light through the sky.

Inside Number 6, Faeden alighted on the ruined windows, swirls of energy and glass wrapping him in a shimmering cloak.

"If you're looking for your Sworn Commander I have her here, so I wouldn't advise any more energy blasts or grenades if you truly value her life. So we're just going to wait here. All of us, and that includes you, Master Kaer'Lahn. I know your exact positions. If any of you try to leave that room, she dies faster than you could hit me."

Master Faeden, Fel nodded to the Lord Inquisitor as Faeden settled his bare feet on the floor. Orders?
He seems to be of the mind that Ceilia is more important than killing the rabble they think are politicians. Faeden's mind flashed out, scouring the surface thoughts he could and the locations of those he couldn't. Full astral projection would have been better - but not with the time they had.
Fel. I am a disdainful task for you.

I understand, Master Faeden.

Good. Secure her and take Mercy. I have unfinished business here.


Akran moved and Faeden was out of the open windows in a flash of crimson.

Fel made a simple gesture. To the Yddrian and the Night Guards, Faeden had arrived, held still for only a few seconds, then leaped out the window again. But they followed Fel's order without hesitation, and boarded Mercy, the Yddrian leaping up to join his brother on top of Mercy, his own eye-beam joining with his.

Fel approached the devastated wall, blade in hand, heart heavy. The typhoon wailed through the torn windows, curtains waving in the gale and the mild thrum of Mercy's engines. Lancer fire back lite everything, fire leaping from the city as the Loyalists rose against friend and brother.
Tapping into the private channel from Mercy, Fel spoke to the Sworn, though she likely wasn't able to hear him. He didn't need to.
It was mostly for him, anyway.

"I deliver your flesh unto the darkness, Champion of Her Will, Sworn of Her Blood. A humble servant of the Void am I, Shadow made form to collect what has been offered, to deliver what was once given, back to Her Glory.
"I am sorry, Sworn Commander. But I cannot let you pass the Veils just yet. You're Empress needs you, now more than ever before."

He entered the bathroom, boots splashing in the destroyed water pipes, crossing to the stall where he could feel her weak presence.
The door had been closed and as he pushed it open, he heard the clink of a KEX 'Death Gift' - what they had come to call the grenade bouquets the fox-people loved so much.
He had less than one second to not lose everything - his life, mission and everything he'd dedicated himself too. His sword ignited, arm already out and his mind focused on the cluster as it dropped to the floor.

He tossed the grenades behind him, into the opposite, undamaged wall, as he sprang forward. His blade met Ceilia's neck, still exposed from the metallic cocoon, and parted her flesh and spine easily. He then curled himself into a ball, closing the stall door as he gathered a shield around himself and Ceilia's head as the grenades went off.

On the other side o the wall, Faeden swung through the window in time to catch Akran.
The kitsune ducked, rolling under Faeden and made a leap for the window.
The Necrian was having none of it, however, and gripped the fox-man by his collar and levered him into the wooden wall, splinters and chunks of volocol tree flying everywhere.
"Kaga's dead," Faeden spat, reaching back to prepare another strike, crimson energy engulfing him. "Or, at least, she is for now. But when I'm done with you, you'll not be coming back again, barkeep."

The explosion from the bathroom tore out a portion of the wall, affording Akran enough time to roll out of the way as Faeden brought down his fist with enough force to burn the exposed wood, melting the marble tiles below.
Faeden turned, his eye sight flickering. The Delegates were gone - for now - and without fighters in the air there was no way he could bring them down.
But, he still counted Kelaetra among their numbers.
Perhaps not all was lost.
Not yet.
But the nanites in his body were fast growing out of his control. Already he could hear the soft murmur of the Necropolis, as if he were in his cabin there, sleeping and dreaming horrid dreams.

Faeden twitched, flexing his shoulders and wrists. Claws began to sprout from his fingers, teeth overcrowding his mouth as he tried in vain to keep control.
If nothing else, he'd make sure that Akran was captured or pulverized into tiny parts.
"I'm... going to tear... you... apart," Faeden managed as he felt bones break and reform. He lunged, fangs bared and talons reaching for Akran's throat.

----

"Let me carry her. Where are we going, Kelaetra?"

Kelaetra ignored him, slinging her mother into a fireman's carry and breaking into a steady, practiced lope of the extended march.
Lancer fire continued to burn and hiss through the night sky as the KEX's heavy munition rifles yelled back with triumph.
Had she made a mistake? Should she had been this selfish?
Would either of them forgive her?

Her train of thought was cut off as she rounded a corner and was met with a dozen Necrians in heavy police rain gear. It was not even a heartbeat before the police squad had raised rifles and pistol, moving to surround the pair.
"Hands in the air and get on your knees," the commander said, voice stern but seasoned. "Milara, I have one wounded. Do we have contact with the emergency services yet?"
"Negative Captain Sork," one of his subordinates replied. "Just a bunch of static."
"Right then," Sork said, golden flashing eyes turning back to the Kelaetra and Shuji. "Binders on them and get them on their feet. We're holing up until we can piece together what the Hells is going on. Move it you two. One false move and I'm going to mark your minds myself."

Kelaetra didn't fight as she was straddled, cuffed and hauled to her feet.
Out of one fire and into another.
She spied an Alavan man in the squad, as well as a young Kitsune. She'd missed them before, but now she realized.
Not every Necrian on Fel'tethra was going to side with the Loyalists.
There was going to be another civil war...

Fel’tethra
City Center
66 Clarion Street, Aprt 603


Sanjia sat with Aroji on the couch as Arkar brought them both tea and then sat down next to Yidan, who was still trying to fight through the static of a jammer.
At first she thought her worst fears had come through. That her father was coming for her, that he had bought out the two nice, gay men nextdoor and she was going to die in front of her son or worse.
But Yidan had simply pulled her inside, sat her down and checked the door. The building was mostly military families, but it seemed that the first bought of explosions hadn't raised much concern.
The drop ships and comms blackout had, and now there was shouting outside the door, thundering feet.

"Nothing, Yidan said, dropping the holograms back into his LOK-Int hacker ware unit.
Sanjia was surprised by how much illegal stuff the two men had in their home - all well hidden - though most of it was harmless.
"Well, Miss Sanjia," Arkar said, trying a smile. "Looks like you're stuck with us for the moment."
"We should pack up and head to the bunkers," Yidan said. "But if this is a major coup, the Police Force isn't going to like anyone running around right now."
"And staying in the ten story apartment building is better?" Arkar asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Yidan was about to speak when there was the tell tale hissing scream of a lancer, fired in confined spaces.
The two men moved with coordination one only gets with life-long devotion. Sanjia let herself be waved back to the far side corner as there was a scream, a yell and another hissing scream.
Muffled voices echoed down the hall and Yidan made a gesture to remain still and silent.
Then the voices stopped and fists pounded on Sanjia's door.
It was silent for a minute before Sanjia realized they had bypassed the lock. She saw her bedroom light flicker on, the dim yellow spilling out into the night from the wall they shared. Shadows flicked into the storm, fires rising from the government center and the barracks now, before the light turned off and footsteps turned down the hall.
Yidan turned to Sanjia and waved for her to go into the bedroom. She and Aroji had only just hidden themselves in the closet when the pounding came to Yidan's door.

"Open in the name of Necrisis and those Loyal to the Empire!"
Sanjia heard Yidan snarl, soft and low, before replying.
"What's going on? Who are you? Name yourselves."
"The Empire has come for what it claims. You're with us or against us Yidan. You're a smart man. Just open up."
"Why?"
"Because we need to make sure you're not hiding any Xiscaps in there. The beasts need to be burned before our glorious fleet makes landfall."
"I'm not letting criminals into my home." Yidan's voice had gotten dangerously low now, but Sanjia could hear his growl. "Suck a cock!"
There was a low murmur from outside then a few mocking laughs.

Sanjia blanched as the scream of a lancer cut the night, and hugged Aroji close as there were two more shots.

Fel'tethra, Streets...

"Damn it Nagy! Yana! I need you to take the wheel, or they're going to ram us off the road. I'll get them off us but you need to drive!"

Yana didn't even wait for Seito to finish his sentence. She slid into the seat, under him, pulling Nagy down flat as a lancer bolt sent burning hot shards of glass flying again.
"Hang on you guys," she said, whipping the wheel to the right, making the truck complain loudly as it bounced off the main road and onto the small dirt track that lead to Nigi's spaceport.

She didn't know what Seito was going to do, but it was probably something he should be doing, not her or Nagy.
Though it didn't help that she had no idea what was going on.
"Are we sure these are actual cops?" she yelled back to them as the rain, leaves and mud whipped them through the busted windshield. "Damn. Nigi's going to be pissed-"
A lancer blast whipped passed them and ignited a tree branch which fell hard into their path. Yana only just manged to swerve around it, rolling the truck onto two wheels for a moment.

"Seito!" Yana half-turned for a moment, panic gripping her. "We are carrying four barrels of highly volatile plasmid gel! If one of those is grazed, we're going to be in some really big trouble!"

Fel'tethra Outskirts...


"I don't have time to fuck around with you, Lucky. If you don't let me out, I'm going to get the plasma cutter and I'm going to cut my way out of your hull. You won't like that, and neither will I. So open the fucking airlock and let me out."

"I am sorry, Mistress Koiwa," Lucky said, his voice apprehensive but not frightened. "But I cannot. Understand, please, that this is for more selfless reasons than you might think. If you were to cut open the airlock, this ship would become compromised. I am not equipped with heat shields for exit procedures. I need my hull intact, as do you. The others should be back soon. If you will just hold on, I can let them on board, we can fuel up and then we can be gone, as Master Nax has asked.
"He did not want to involve you with this."

The sound of the plasma cutter echoed through the ship's small corridors.

If an AI could gulp, Lucky certainly tried.

---

Nax entered the small spaceport's main hallway, hair matted and soaked even under the hooded coat.
Faran stood in the door opposite, arms crossed and a sneer on his face.
"Chose the lightning over the fur-fucking, huh Nax?"
"Language," Nax snarled, shoving by Faran. "If we're going to contribute anything to the invasion we need to link up with the main force."
"Agreed. But we need Nigi's truck for that - and your brats took off with that. This storm is going to get pretty bad here on the Verge, so we're hunkering down for now. Ready for the main force to land."
Nax glared at Faran. "And that's it? you have nothing else."
"What do you want, Nax? These aren't your old Dominion days. We have a rifle and a few pistols between us."
"So you're just going to sit around and do nothing." Nax jabbed a finger in the general direction of the city proper. "There are men and women dying out there while you're sitting on your hands. Get your boys together now. We move out in ten."
Faran's grin did not hide the anger or malice well. "We're fine here. We've got plenty to keep us occupied."
Nax's eyes narrowed. "What did you do with Nigi?"
"The old hag's fine. Her brood too."
"Where are they, Faran?"
Faran shrugged and waved Nax into the cantina. "I guess some things never change. Fur-fucker. In here, if you care so much."

The cantina was dark except for the main bar, which hosted two Necrians - a man and a woman - and four kitsune, tied to the runner at the bottom.
Nax knelt down next to the grey muzzled Nigi, who glared at him through a black eye.
"Was it necessary to beat an old woman," Nax said, his voice dangerously quiet.
Faran shrugged and hopped onto the bar, placing a heavy boot on the back of the orange tod's head, kicking him forward and straining his arms painfully behind him. "Yes. It was."
"I'm sorry," Nax murmured under his breath - much to low for the Necrians to hear but well within Nigi's range. Standing, Nax glanced over the others. The orange tod was Nigi's oldest, but Nax didn't know his name. He was a silent one and often away on some errand for the old woman. He had a few cuts and bruises, but it looked like he'd given up pretty fast.
He couldn't say the same for the younger tod. While the orange one seemed to be a bit of a gentle giant, the red one was small and had a deep gash along his skull, fur matted and ear torn. His arm had been broken and poorly set before being tied up. He was unconsious, leaning heavily on the orange one.
Separate from them was the chocolate brown vixen. She was young, but Nax wasn't sure how young. Her face was cut - a purposeful cut it seemed - in a large 'X' over her snout, between her eyes. It was fresh, but clearly done with some kind of heat - the fur was burned away and the scabs were black.
Her muzzle was bound shut with cord and Nax's teeth set as his eyes skimmed over her.
She flinched at his gaze, turning away, showing that her t-shirt - some kind of band name 'Jiggle Bop' stenciled across by hand; some kind of homemade job - was back to front and ripped.

Nax locked eyes with Nigi one last time. She spat at him but said nothing.
"Faran..." Nax turned to the younger man, sitting on the counter. "What you've done here..."
"Will not matter in two days time." Faran kicked the orange tod who grunted but said nothing. "When the SIN has taken over, none of this will matter. Hells, maybe... they won't even remember them..."
"That's not going to happen, Faran. We are citizen soldiers of the Dominion, now the Imperium. And you will conduct yourself as such if you don't want a beating."
Faran snorted out a laugh, spitting his alcohol over the back of the tod's head. "W-what? I'm sorry, did you just threaten me?"
Nax took off his rain coat and tossed it over a chair. "You'll be lucky that you're not executed for war crimes. The Imperium won't tolerate this."
"Goddess Below!" Faran hopped down off the bar, glancing back at his companions. "Even when the Great Naxan Thath is on our side, he still thinks of the fucking fur-munchers before his own kinsmen. Now that's a dangerous loyalty, Nax." He pulled his pistol out, slowly and menacingly. "Maybe we'll keep you around for a bit. Long enough to make sure that fucking crew of yours is taken care of. But when the SIN lands, I'll have my spaceport and you will be food for the vorks."
Nax's draw was faster than Faran's, the blaze of silver light and smoke that accompanied the older model cutting into Faran's hand and dropping the man to his knees.
The other two jumped the counter - one of them throwing a glass bottle at Nax's head.
As he dodged it, coming back up to aim, the man was on him, grappling the pistol to the side as it fired again, cutting the ceiling.
The woman snaked her arm under the other's grip, a jumping hook that caught Nax by the throat and pulled him to the ground.

Faran pulled a hefty metal bar from behind the bar counter as the others man-handled Nax into a kneeling, splayed position.
"I knew you were still a fur-fucker, Nax," he said, nursing his burned hand while twirling the bar in his other hand. "Some of us just don't think you're kind - nor their's - deserves mercy under the Imperium."
The bar swung around with a whistle and a bone shattering smack. They let Nax go just before the bar connected and it through him into a nearby table with a clatter.
Faran tossed the club to the male Necrian and sneered. "Start at the legs. Leave him alive long enough to feel every last blow."
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

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Xiscapia
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Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Sun Oct 16, 2016 5:44 am

XIS Jungle Mistress, Cockpit...

Lightning tore past the wing of First Lieutenant Rowan's Shuriken as she wheeled her fighter around. Seven highlighted shapes receded rapidly on her scopes as Captain Kisara took her half of the squadron away in an escort formation around the shuttle. More transports were landing to collect the Imperial Marines who had been dropped around the Government Center with little more than so much broken wreckage and bodies left in their wake. The diplomats were secure, or so the Alversian woman assumed, but the mission of her flight was not. They had one last objective to finish before they could drop a bomb on the Government Center and call it mission accomplished.
Given that said objective had taken down two of her squadmates, putting them both out of the fight if not actually killing them, it was one she was only too happy to take care of.

Jungle Lead, Talon-2, we have marked the target but we are taking fire, the dropship's pilot reported. We have received damage around our engine housing, we are still mobile but I don't want to chance another hit like that. Confirm target acquired so we may disengage.

Copy that, Talon-2. You are cleared to disengage. Pick up your troops and RTB, thanks for the assist, Rowan let a predatory smile spread across her face as her scanners, guided by the painting laser from Talon-2, locked on to the Mercy. For a moment she considered going all-in and ordering all ships in her flight to attack the ship, but she quickly decided against it. In the confusion of combat that might allow the ambassador's craft to lose them among the scatter of the city. Better to divert a pair to following from on-high and a pair to dogging the transport.

Jungle Machine, Jungle Rat,I need you up to track the target and keep it on our scopes, she ordered her flightmates. I need your eyes-on in case pursuit loses her. Jungle Hunter, you're with me. We're going in to get this bitch. Watch out for the drones climbing on it, one hit from their cannons is a mayday. The rapid affirmatives were music to her ears as her Avalan and abhuman wingmates lifted high, ships shuddering in the storm as they slowed to a hover to keep scanners focused on Mercy. For their part Rowan's Jungle Mistress and the tod's Jungle Hunter arched high as well, each climbing steadily before they turned in and dove almost simultaneously in top-down attacks on the Necrian craft. Rowan centered it in her crosshairs and took a breath before squeezing down the triggers. Engage!

The dropship had fallen back behind Number 6 as the two Shuriken fighters swooped down through the lashing rain, antiproton cannons spewing deadly blasts down at the bulk of Mercy as they veered and twirled to avoid return fire.

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Halls...


"I'm... going to tear... you... apart."

The monster that was Faeden came at him and Akran leaped back, gravitics propelling him effortlessly upwards until he caught himself on the high wall, for once thankful for tall and stately Necrian architecture. It gave him room to crawl on his braced feet and elbows, eyes glittering in the darkness as he watched the thing below him. "Man" wasn't the right word, nor was "beast." If he hadn't believed what Kaga had said before then he did now, and he knew that this wasn't a fight that he could win. The old Necrian had some kind of eldritch power that even Kaga could only match. Without her he would lose.
Fortunately, he wasn't trying to fight Faeden.

The Necrian lunged again, jumping with speed that Akran wouldn't have given him credit for, and he was just able to drop away before Faeden's claws stabbed into the wall to gouge deep holes. The Navy will level this building soon. I just have to keep him busy here until then. Faeden dropped and Akran was already flying, arms and legs tucked in and tail streaming behind him as he bolted down the hallway with the wind whistling in his ears. He wasn't sure if his idea would work, but it was all that he had to go on. Turning hard at the stairwell, he rebounded off the landing wall with a grunt and launched himself down to bank hard around the corner and shoot out into the lobby.

He was faster than Faeden at least, and probably more agile, but this would still be his best chance to escape. For a moment he hovered there, eyes raking over open doors and smashed windows at the front where pools of water had collected and the carpet of scarlet bodies that lay broken and tangled around each other where they'd fallen. Most of them were neither soldiers nor even kitsune: they had mostly been Necrian civilians, local government workers, Alyana's staff members, even a few members of the press who had braved the storm to report on the meeting. It clearly hadn't mattered to the Hetaevan "ambassador." They had all been mowed down together, and Akran took the moment to capture pictures of the slaughter through his cybereyes. Kaga would want them.

Without further delay he turned and leveled his grenade launcher at one of the pillars. The explosion tore apart the marble facade, sending shards flying across the room and bouncing off his shields to reveal the ugly internal support beams. He had just hovered over when Faeden came crashing through the doorway and charged him. Akran pulled up, letting his foe slam into the pillar and shake it with a howl before the thing swung its arm at him and smashed it into the pillar, clearing off still more of its decorative covering. That was his chance.

Higher still, he took hold of one of the support beams, leveraged his artificial gravity beneath it, and pulled as hard as he could. The steel shuddered and groaned as he gritted his teeth, straining for all he was worth until it shifted and popped free. The pillar wobbled dangerously and he ducked around it with the beam in his arms just managing to hold it steady enough to heave it at Faeden like a battering ram. The Necrian slashed at it, heated claws crumpling the metal to make it glow red-hot before twisting and blackening, and Akran pulled back. That was all he needed.

At long last he dropped back to the floor, knees bending on impact as he clutched his improvised lance in both arms. A few steps to the side lined him up perfectly with the door on the far side behind the entry desk, letting him see through it and into the armory where Herak's weapons had been kept. Faeden crashed down in front of him and Akran took a breath. Drive the lance through him and pin him to the armory wall. Then get out. Easy enough in theory.
With the lance held before him Akran rocketed off the ground again and lunged directly at Faeden, a gravitic blast proceeding him in an attempt to put the Necrian off-balance before he drove the steel beam into his torso.

Fel’tethra
Streets...


Struggling to make sense of it, Shuji trailed a few paces after his wife. She had never outright ignored him before. Too concerned about her mother? It was hard for him to be sure. He had lived most of his life on a tropical island with only three other people for company, so it wasn't unusual for people to confuse him with how they acted. But this seemed different. It was as if she was afraid of speaking to him, of what she might say. Of questions she'd have to answer. Did she even know where she was going?

A few quick steps and he caught up with Kelaetra as they stepped out of the alleyway. "Kelaetra-"

And froze as the police officers surrounded them.

"Hands in the air and get on your knees."

"Wait," Shuji protested even as he raised his arms and slowly fell onto his knees. "You're making a mistake. My name is Shuji Tyrass, I'm the Imperial Governor of Alno'kae-" he was cut off by his own grunt as his arms were twisted behind him and binders slapped across his wrists. "And this, this woman is my wife, Kelaetra Tyrass, Thane of the Alno'kae System. And that's Fel'tethra's governor!" he looked up with desperate eyes as the Avalan man gathered up Alyana in his arms. "Please, we all have our identifications, you only need to check to see I'm telling the truth!"

Beside Sork the vixen of the group glanced between the three of them and frowned. He noticed her armor bore the rank of sergeant and her tag read "Kurshina." Her honey-colored fur was matted and had stained a dark red around her muzzle where she'd been cut, but her amber eyes seemed alert enough as they darted between each of them. Even so she didn't say anything about it as the group turned up the street, lancer carbine cradled in her arms as she hurried to catch up with her captain. The rain pattered against her helmet and faceplate as she looked up at the taller man.

"Sir, there's a retail store up the street that we can duck into," she told him. "I don't think we should stay there but we can at least get our bearings."

With Sork's agreement the officers trudged up the sidewalk through the driving rain. Shuji kept his ears low as water dripped through his long hair and soaked into his tunic, making it stick to his body, but with his hands bound there wasn't much he could do about it. He didn't dare try to use his tail for fear they would chain that up too. Lancers howled through the wet darkness as close as a few blocks away while the heavy retort of Xiscapian weapons was more distant as it came from the vicinity of the joint base and increasingly from near city center where the starport was. If someone attacked their group he wasn't sure if he should try to run or not.

But they made it to the end of the block without issue. The boards that had been put up over the storefront didn't last long against the officers, and once the doors were pried open they were hustled in out of the wind and rain. Unlit aisles stretched away to the back of the building at the far end when Shuji looked down them before turning back to check on Kelaetra and Alyana. His wife was still being held by one of the officers but the Avalan man laid Alyana down on the floor to check her vitals. While he did so Kurshina leaned over to check the woman's face, her frown deepening before she stuck a hand into the pocket of the Necrian's clothes and found her billfold. Shuji saw her eyes widen and that brought a ray of hope.

Without a word the vixen sergeant collected the I.D.s of Shuji and Kelaetra and carried the collection over to Sork. "Sir," she had her back to the trio but glanced over her shoulder before continuing. "These I.D.s match their faces. Bioscans check out too. They are who he says they are," her tail swished uneasily as she confirmed it. A few seconds passed and she turned back to face Shuji.

"You must have been in the Government Center then. What happened?"

"The Imperium's delegation turned on us," he glanced at Kelaetra. "They killed a few people from our group and wounded others, including Governor Tyrass. They had some kind of," Shuji hesitated, unsure of how to describe it. "Drones, I guess. It sounded like the militia killed the Imperial soldiers outside too. But these two kitsune came in out of nowhere and rescued us. I don't know who they were. There was one, a tod, who kept us shielded and blew a hole in the wall to let us escape while he held off the militia and drones. That gave us enough time to get to the Imperial soldiers who were coming to rescue us, and they got us out onto the street." He paused and hesitated.

Kurshina cocked an ear and glanced from Shuji to Kelaetra and back again. "And then?"

"We were attacked," he continued after a beat. "I didn't get a very good look at them, but they didn't have militia armor. There was a police officer with them," he remembered seeing the cop first. "We ran."

"Away from the Imperial soldiers?"

"I," Shuji hesitated a final time and his eyes slid to Kelaetra. "I was following my wife, and my mother-in-law since she was carrying her."

Kurshina turned her cybernetic gaze on the Necrian woman. "Why did you run away, Thane Tyrass?"

A moment passed but before anything else could happen the Avalan man spoke up. "Captain Sork, sir," he looked up from where he was kneeling by Alyana. "Governor Tyrass has suffered serious burns and has gone into shock. We do not have the expertise, the supplies, or the equipment to treat her. If she does not get medical help soon, she will die."

His stark words hung in the air before Kurshina turned to her superior. "Sir, the closest hospital Our Holy Lady General. It's six blocks to the northeast of our position. If we can commandeer a vehicle then we should be able to get her there. If you'll allow me to I'll lead the group."

Joint Base Shield, HQ of the 1st Imperial Armored Brigade/6th Night Guards Militia...

If nothing else all the death meant that Kazuki's makeshift squad didn't lack for supplies. It had been easy enough for him to find a rifle and ammunition, and each of the other soldiers had plenty of the latter as well when they began to cluster around him at the entrance to the barracks. From what he'd gathered they were from two main groups in the company. The escan man Specialist Veli Trava was the a junior EOD engineer, leading his fellow escan Mattes Noa and the human man Randyl Silero from the same unit since the two PFCs were the unit's truck gunner and driver respectively. The other group was from the bridging platoon, with both the third escan in Corporal Volkan Ard and the halfbreed PFC Dessa Qin from the same bridgelayer while Corporal Isaac Wise was from the platoon's other bridgelayer. The odd one out in it all was the asteritaur who went by Corporal Seero, a heavy weapons specialist from one of the bridage's infantry units. That made grouping them into fireteams relatively easy.

Everyone read me on the neurals? Good. Specialist Trava, privates Noa, Silero, you're with me, he told them. Corporals Ard, Wise, Seero, and private Qin, you'll make up the other fireteam. I'm placing you in command of the team, Seero. Like I said, we're going to sweep this immediate area, so the barracks buildings to either side. Once we've cleared our perimeter we'll engage that sniper I mentioned and see if we can't take them out. Clear? Good.

At the door he checked the alley between the barracks, but nothing had changed from before. Flicking his tail at his team to get them to follow, Kazuki stepped out and sidled along the edge of the engineer's barracks until he was at the back side. The door to the adjacent barracks was open so he crept up to it and poked his fiber-optic out to see around it. There was no one in sight, not so much as a corpse. Entering cautiously, he made sure that Trava had his back on one side as they crept up the hall to check each of the rooms one by one. Doors banged open as the squad went, revealing empty dormitory after empty dormitory until Kazuki heard as much as saw Trava stop short. Turning, he peered around the escan and stared.

A tod lay on the floor with a Necrian woman beside him. Both were completely naked but given the power armor and militia suit stacked in one corner it was clear what their affiliations had been. He was lying on his back with a knife sunk into his chest up to the hilt, light fur stained with blood and even more coating his hands and claws. She was likewise next to him, his blood smeared across her small breasts but her own was slowly cooling and drying along the deep gashes cut into her throat. The kitsune still had lipstick marks around his snout and muzzle.

Apart from a handful of other bodies the barracks was empty. Most of them were probably in the mess hall, he realized privately. That or they had been caught out somewhere else on the base. Turning away, he signaled his little group and they trotted back down the corridor and out into the typhoon. That left the barracks on the far side. Like the others its door was open, but as soon as he glimpsed inside Kazuki could tell that this one had been full, and its soldiers had put up a fight. He could see out across the yard to one side where a hole had been blown in the side of the building, and bodies of Imperial soldiers and militia alike lay scattered all down the hallway. It looks like they lost a whole company taking this position, Seero commented.

They took the same formation as before, but as they passed by bloody grenade-torn rooms and ever more bodies Kazuki's attention kept going back to the breach that had been torn in the wall as they got closer to it. It looked like the walls had taken multiple rocket impacts to leave almost nothing between the floor and roof for several rooms across, exposing dormitories to the outside. His instincts were screaming at him and he held up one hand, halting his unit save for Trava. Together they edged up the hallway, Kazuki looking out into the rain as he tried to figure out what about the situation was getting at him.
Another step, and he was able to see through the hole to the top floor of the administrative building.

Down- he couldn't even get the complete thought out before the lancer flared and he dove for the floor. Tavin hit the ground next to him with a smoking hole in his abdomen and Kazuki rolled, tugging at the escan. The lupine rolled weakly, tail sliding across the floor as he grasped for Kazuki's hand, and with a grunt Kazuki tugged him forward into cover. Specialist, he turned the soldier over, focus on me. You're going to be alright. He tore open a first aid kit. I'm going to dress your wound. Then we'll get you out of here. Just don't close your eyes. Specialist? He looked down at Trava. Specialist. Answer me, specialist Trava. I need to know that you're still alive. I need to...I need...

He let the medi-gel fall. The escan was limp, and the scanners showed the truth as plainly as could be. There was no pulse. Kazuki stared at the body of the soldier who had been walking next to him less than a minute before. He was aware of the rest of his ad hoc unit up the hallway, separated from him by the gap that was the hole in the wall and the sniper watching it, but for a long moment he just knelt there.

Sir? It was Seero. Are you alright, sir?

Kazuki forced down his first impulse. Specialist Trava is dead, he stood from where he'd been kneeling. We need to get that fucking sniper.

Sir, the asteritaur nodded. If your fireteam can keep the sniper's attention I should be able to maneuver mine back out of this building to lay down suppressive fire.

Do it. He waved Seero's fireteam back with his tail as Noa and Silero crouched by the breach in the wall. The rain continued to fall and when Kazuki poked his fiber-optic out he couldn't see any movement from the administrative building, even his heat sensors only confirming that there was no one waiting in the broken windows. Keep at least one of your fiber-optics on it, he instructed Noa and Silero as he drew his own back. We don't want to expose ourselves any more than we have to, but I want to know if activity starts increasing over there. If this trick works you should be able to determine the location of the sniper.

On it, sir, Private Noa's voice was hard as he extended his fiber-optic. It only took a quick search for Kazuki to find an appropriate prop in the form of a militia soldier who had been blown in half by a shoulder cannon but still had his head intact. Picking up the upper half of the corpse, the tod held it near his collar with the dead soldier's head lolling and slowly leaned it over to peek out of the hole in the wall. The helmeted dome of the Necrian had barely dipped out into view before the lancer screeched, vaporizing the body's faceplate and making Kazuki drop it with a start. Top floor, third window from the left! They're shooting from behind a barricade, Noa called across the makeshift squad's comms.

Providing suppressive fire, Seero answered back, and a moment later his autocannons whined and howled as they burst shells at the target's location from the corner of the barracks. When he stuck his own fiber-optic around Kazuki saw wood splinter and disintegrate under the heavy fire, bursting apart as flashes of heat twinkled on his sensors.

Alright, go, we're taking the full distance in one go, move! Ducking out from the breach, he held his rifle close and charged out into the rain and across the muddy ground. Seero's fire abated to be replaced by the characteristic bassy noise of his teammates firing their grenade launchers in arcs that burst up and down the side of the administrative building, spraying shrapnel as Kazuki and his two men scrambled into the structure's yard. The closest second floor window hadn't received the same defensive preparations as the upper ones, and trusting that his soldiers would follow him Kazuki launched himself into a bounding leap and crashed through what remained of the frame to roll into the office. There was no one waiting for him as he whipped out into the corridor beyond, scanning all around him while Noa and then Silero thudded up into the room behind him.

Up. He had hardly given the command before a lancer shrieked from a few stories above.

Corporal Seero is down! Wise's neural voice rang out across the neural link. They hit him in the chest and he's not moving. We managed to drag him back into cover but it looks bad. I'll do what I can but I'm no medic, staff sergeant.

Do what you can, but you can't let up on that suppressive fire, Kazuk checked the hallway outside of the offices to find the stairwell beyond leading up.

Yes sir. Private Qin is dismounting one of Corporal Seero's cannons, sir, and Corporal Ard is taking the other. They'll provide suppressive fire. Even as Wise "spoke" Kazuki both heard and felt the cannons start up again, their fire making the entire structure vibrate subtly as they impacted. Kazuki was turning up the stairs with Noa and Silero behind him when he heard the whine of anti-gravity thrusters.

Imperial transports! Wise called it out. Six, no, eight ships! Inbound on our location.

Keep lighting up that sniper position! They'll follow the fire and provide support, Kazuki rounded the next landing up as he took the stairs two at a time. The noise of Imperial engines was even louder by then and just under them he could hear the Necrians on the top floor shouting back and forth to each other as Qin and Ard's cannons raked their position again. Then came the heavier growl of a shuttle's cannons and the signature bbrrrrrrrrtttttt that shook the building as greater fire than ever before burst through the walls and windows of the top floor. Just a story below by then, Kazuki turned across the landing to the last stairwell.

When he looked up there hardly seemed to be a top floor left. What he could see of the closest wall and roof were pitted with scorched holes that let the rain pour in and still the hovering gunship outside poured withering fire across the entire plane courtesy of its autocannons. In the blink of an eye a figure appeared, stumbling out of the destroyed room and onto the top steps. He could tell that she was a woman because she had lost her helmet, pale face exposed, and her militia suit was wet and glistening with her own blood from where her left arm hung limp, terminating in a red stump just below the elbow. Her good arm was clutching at her side as more blood seeped down over her hip, and she staggered as she took another wobbly step down the stairs. It was impossible for her to see his eyes, but his found hers, and they were wide with shock and pain.
Kazuki lifted his rifle and fired.

Despite his injuries, despite his stress, despite the way he shook with the reverberations that tore through the building, the action was as smooth and easy as in any training exercise. He only needed to level his weapon and pull the trigger, a three-shot burst stuttering out and letting him watch as each round stitched its way up her body into pelvis, abdomen, and chest, making her jerk uncontrollably before she crumpled. The woman tumbled and rolled down the stairs, end over end until she came to rest in a scarlet heap at his feet. Kazuki looked down at her. The body twitched, and he put another burst into it. Then there was only the trickling of blood as it began to leak down the stairs and over his boots.

We need to clear the top floor. He sensed both Noa and Silero's eyes on him but apart from ensuring that they were following he ignored them. Before his head emerged from the stairs he stuck his fiber-optic over the top and scanned the room beyond. It proved easy to clear visually: most of the furniture had been cleared away and stacked in barricades along the windows to provide covered sniping positions or set up at intervals that the team could have used as cover. Most of the tables and chairs were in pieces, shredded by the cannon fire and lying in pools of water, and as Kazuki entered the floor proper and approached the sniper's nest a few windows down he found that the team hadn't fared much better. The other two militia were little more than bloodstains and undifferentiated gore plastered to the floor and walls, their cover torn open and lying all around them. Otherwise the floor was deserted.

Out the destroyed windows he could see the ramps on the shuttles and dropships outside opening up. The shuttles kept in the air, slender bodies steady as Imperial Marine squads leaped out and slowed their falls to the ground below with anti-gravity harnesses, while both of the dropships had settled into different yards to disgorge their own payloads. More naval soldiers were streaming out of one while the other had tankettes that Kazuki recognizes as M50 "Spitefires" rolling down the ramp. Off to one side a squad was already meeting with Seero's fireteam, medics hurrying over to the slumped alien to relieve Wise of his bloody task. He could hear more engines thrumming together with autocannon fire from across the base as other parties made their landings at various points.

Down at ground level the tod hurried out to the rest of his squad but before he could get there a group of Imperial Marines broke off and approached. Staff Sergeant Kazuki? the female had a distinctly Zillar accent but looked like she was some breed of lupine judging by her armor. I am Second Lieutenant Basurto, B Company, Revan detachment, Imperial Marines. Your fellow engineers said you're the highest ranking soldier from their company they've been able to find. What's the situation in this AO?

Ma'am, we haven't been able to do much here, Kazuki shook his head. I was in the mess hall when the attack came, I think we may have been hit by a truck bomb. Saw a militiaman executing wounded Imperial soldiers who survived afterwards. After I killed him I evaded sniper fire to reach my company's barracks and managed to regroup with seven other engineers. We took it upon ourselves to secure the immediate area for any other friendly troops who arrived here, and I engaged my unit with the sniper team entrenched in that position, he flicked his tail back up at the administrative building. We suffered two casualties but with your reinforcements we neutralized the sniper team, ma'am.

Understood. Our medics are working on Corporal Seero now. I have orders to bring you to my lieutenant commander, but first we'll get those wounds of yours looked at. Take a quick breather, staff sergeant, but no too long. The Solar Imperium's invading this system, and their fleet's only a few hours away. Once we get you to the LC we should have a clearer picture of what's going on.

Yes ma'am, he nodded his head to her and felt his shoulders sag as an escan medic took him aside to look over his arm and hip. The weight of responsibility hadn't vanished, he wasn't sure that it ever could as he tried not to look at how the medics had left Seero's body with a tarp covering it, but he was no longer alone. He tried to take solace in that fact, but all Kazuki felt was numb. The shouts and gunfire of battle continued to roar and echo even through the storm as the she-wolf corpswoman assessed his injuries and stuck a stimpack into him, but in the relative peace his mind turned to Sanjia and Aroji.

What did you see on the way down here? he glanced at the escan treating him.

Lots of gunfire. Mostly around here and the spaceport, but it looks like it's all across the city. Some muzzle flashes, lots of lancer blasts. We saw militia, police, and civvies all caught up in the mix, and it seemed like some of them were shooting at each other. It's a full-scale rebellion down here, isn't it?

I guess so. Did you see anything around the military apartments? 66 Clarion Street, that area?

Nothing I noticed, but I wasn't really looking. Wouldn't put it past them though. I heard their delegation attacked ours over at the Government Center, and they tried to bomb the spaceport. She slipped the empty stimpack syringe into her armor. You got family over there?

Kazuki looked down at his sidearm. Yeah. My wife and son.

The LC says they've started evacuating as much of the city as they can. Maybe they'll be able to get out of here.

I hope so. But he couldn't shake the bad feeling he had. Sanjia hadn't exactly been famous in the old Dominion, but her father had been a well-known producer of warship designs, and he'd always assumed that her running away with him had ruffled some feathers: if nothing else, the Imperial Intelligence Department's interest in her when she entered Imperial space had been indication enough of that. She'd been able to trade her knowledge of Necrian warships for Imperial citizenship, usually only obtainable through service in the government or military. His mind drifted back to the attempt on her life that might have come from the Dominion. Would the SIN come for her as well?

Kazuki had never been the religious type, much less the prayerful type. He had never bought into the idea that the small range of psionics he'd been gifted with was the result of some kind of divine favor like some Xiscapians did, but he had always respected his wife's goddess in the form of the deity Necrisis herself. In that moment he closed his eyes and pictured the ancient woman's face and long, dark hair in his mind. If you're out there and you're listening, Necrisis. Sanjia and my son have committed no sin. Watch over them and don't let them come to harm. Please. They don't deserve to die.

He opened his eyes. If Necrisis had been listening, her reply was mute. Kazuki inhaled, then exhaled. Comms were down and she was undoubtedly outside the range of his psionic telepathy, but he resolved that whenever he had a spare moment he would try to touch his mind to hers. Even if all it could confirm was that she was alive, it was better than not knowing. So he deactivated his psychic null implant with a thought, and reached out to Sanjia.

Sanjia? he projected it as loudly as he could, aware that their link would probably be faint if they could get one at all. Sanjia? It's Kazuki. Can you hear me? There was nothing. He stretched out far, influence growing weaker as he strained in the direction of the apartments, but he couldn't feel her. One more time and a headache began to form, and Kazuki sagged again. It wouldn't do anyone any good to tire himself out, and he knew how risky trying to contact her was. If there were other psions around they might be able to detect it, and maybe even zero in on his or her location. Maybe it was better than he hadn't been able to feel her presence.
Reactivating his null, Kazuki sighed as his psionics deadened again.
We'll see each other again, Sanjia. You, me, and Aroji. I promise.

Fel'tethra, Jungle Road...

Yana wriggled her way over and under him in the driver's seat and not for the first time Seito thanked the stars for Necrian flexibility. That let him take his hands off the wheel and throw himself into the passenger's seat to roll down the window. Rain blew sideways into the truck but he ignored it as he put one boot on the seat and sat on the window, tail wrapped around himself as he kept his torso close to the roof. The wind buffeted him to make the tod clutch at the roof with claws scraping against the metal, but he kept himself moving even as a lancer shot winged a bright path overhead. Hoisting himself up, he got his boots onto the window before stretching one leg back into the truck bed and heaving the rest of his body over with arms out and swaying as he kept his balance. Another lancer blast shot by and he dropped low, already thoroughly soaked, and promptly tipped over as Yana swerved hard.

"Seito! We are carrying four barrels of highly volatile plasmid gel! If one of those is grazed, we're going to be in some really big trouble!"

That's what I'm hoping for. He didn't bother to answer as he rolled over and pulled the tarp away to rip through the cords holding the drums in place. With his arms wrapped around it he got one boot flat on the truck's bed before he stood and hoisted it over his head. The police cruiser braked at that, tires throwing up mud as the driver fought for control of his vehicle, and with a grunt Seito hurled the barrel over the rear door. It bounced off the dirt track, flipping once before it rolled through the mud to bump up against the front fender of the car. Seito's pistol was already in hand and as the gap widened he emptied the magazine, peppering the ground and hood with rounds until one found the plasmid.

The explosion made his ears flatten and burned itself into his retinas for an instant before his cybernetics cleared it away. The cruiser had been turned into a flaming husk that even the torrential downpour couldn't quench, and he pumped a fist into the air with a shout. "Yeah-ha, get some!" Falling into a crouch, he stuck his head through the truck's broken back window. "Alright, I think we're clear!"

"You're insane!" Nagy was on the floor between the sheets, but the bat shifted gingerly between puddles and broken glass to look up at him. "You just murdered all of those police officers!"

"It was them or us, Nagy," Seito glanced over his shoulder at the dwindling pyre. "With that shit going down in the city, they didn't put up that roadblock for the typhoon. They were trying to stop us from leaving the city. Only reason they wanted us out of the truck was so they could shoot us without risking hitting the plasmid gel. We gotta warn Nax and Koiwa!"

Fel'tethra Outskirts
Spaceport...


"I am sorry, Mistress Koiwa. But I cannot. Understand, please, that this is for more selfless reasons than you might think. If you were to cut open the airlock, this ship would become compromised. I am not equipped with heat shields for exit procedures. I need my hull intact, as do you. The others should be back soon. If you will just hold on, I can let them on board, we can fuel up and then we can be gone, as Master Nax has asked. He did not want to involve you with this."

"Too fucking late," the plasma torch hissed in Koiwa's grasp as she brought it closer to the hatch. "I care more about Nax than I do your hull." She touched the white-hot end of the tool to the metal and began to melt her way through, eyes squinted against the bright flare of the plasma. Before she'd gone much deeper than the surface the airlock opened of its own accord. Taking her finger off the trigger, she flicked the safety back on and hooked the torch onto her belt. "That's what I thought," she said, and stepped through the airlock and the next hatch into the storm outside. It promptly closed behind her, and with head bowed against the wind and rain Koiwa stalked over the tarmac to the traffic control tower.

The Solar Imperium is setting to invade the KEX’s Necrian Sector. They probably already have a fleet in system and right now the Loyalists of Necrisis are raising the Hells against the local garrison. His words ran through her head as she approached, pistol already in hand. He'd know this would happen. Was he one of them? It was hard for her to even quantify what "one of them" was, but then she remembered what else he'd said. They seek to take from you. Take everything from you. I’m worried about Nigi and her kids. Faran isn’t a nice man and before the Dominion left them high and dry, he owned a spaceport - not too much unlike this one. He’ll want his revenge on those who he sees as having taken it from him.

No. He'd gone to stop Faran and his goons. By himself. Idiot!

Outside the fury of the storm and all the rain had washed away all scent markers, but inside the warm, dry halls of the spaceport things were clearer. She could smell where people's paths had crossed, the Necrian dockhands, Nigi and her kits, and of course Nax. With her eyes flicking from side to side and ears high Koiwa followed his leathery aroma, but before she'd gone more than a few steps a sharper one hit her nose. Blood. That spurred her on through the far door of the main hall and down the corridor. Voices floated down to her and she slowed, creeping along the wall with her gun in both hands. The vixen halted just before the open cantina door when the lancer shot rang out.

Glass shattered and Koiwa whipped around the corner with her pistol high. She was just in time to see the two dockhands wrestle Nax to the ground as Faran approached with the metal bar. In the gloom and with their focus taken up by other things none of them had noticed her, and she watched as the bar slammed into her partner and lover to send him crashing back through a table. Faran gave his orders and his thugs stepped up, but as much as her heart was pounding and her blood roared in her ears Koiwa only allowed her finger to tighten on the trigger. Gotta wait for them to get into position, she drew a breath, keeping the air inside of her and steadying her hand as the man with the pipe stood over Nax with the woman on the other side. It wasn't a perfect line-up, but his back was to her and the woman was looking down, so she wouldn't get a better chance.

With her gun barrel centered on the man's back, Koiwa pulled the trigger. The shot of the civilian-model AAXES was deafening in close quarters, making her ears go flat as she turned her weapon on the woman. She controlled her shots as much as she could, finger snapping down three times before she scrambled back to duck out the door and into the hallway. With cover found she listened for movement from inside the cantina. Have to get Faran. Can't let him escape.
She peeked back around the corner.
Last edited by Xiscapia on Sun Feb 05, 2017 6:44 am, edited 2 times in total.
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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Necrisis
Diplomat
 
Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Wed Dec 07, 2016 1:27 pm

Her Merciful Lance

Fel stumbled out of the smoke and debris, Ceilia's head swinging from her short hair, eyes blank and dark blood dripping slowly onto the ground.
He jumped the short gap, Mercy already moving as his feet clamped to the ground. He tossed the head to his medic, ignoring her startled and disturbed face.
"Y-you... you killed her?" The medic didn't seem to know what to do with the head, just stared into her half-lidded, glassy eyes.
"Only if you don't get that into stasis." Fel stalked passed his Night Guards and into the cockpit. "Child Eternal-1, status?"
"We are being tailed," the Yddrian said, climbing out onto Mercy's skin. "Two high - spotters. Two low, trying to tail and get positives."
"Mercy, duck them and cloak. We're done here."
"Master Dari-" the medic cut herself off then shouldered her way into the cockpit, shoving Celia's head into the hands of the bombardier. "Master... Fel... I know that we're just following the Storm protocols... but I... What was all that?"
"Above you're pay-grade, Forceman." Fel swiped across Mercy's command suite. "Cori, can you tight beam into a Shuriken? Some of them have remote-operators. If nothing else, can you corrupt their engines?"
The medic looked around, not seeing this 'Cori' but assuming that was above her pay-grade too. "Master Fel... Are we... is this a black op?"
"Yes," Fel said without hesitation.
"So... we're getting scrubbed?"
Fel turned to look at her for the first time since the light had gone out and she had stabbed the tod to death. His blood was still covering her battle armor, but she didn't seem to notice that. "No."
"But-"
"Medic, are you really going to argue with me on this?"
"No... No, sir. Just..."
"Besides," Fel said, turning back to the data-base search he was linking to. "I have my own mission. Once that head is in stasis and we lose our tail, I'm sending you lot into the outskirts until the invasion starts. And I'm going to finish my work."
"Above my pay-grade?"
Fel chuckled and leaned back, becoming sober again as Sanji's hologram shimmered into nothing, her address and public records downloading into his neural jack. "By the end of this, it might not be, Medic."

Fel'tethra
Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Halls...


Faeden lunged for Akran, his mind slowly slipping away and the monster taking over. He felt his body melt away and arms became tendrils, visage into monstrous, fang-filled maws ripping themselves open. The makeshift lance skewered him, but his tentacles - six of them now - gripped it and before Akran could project another gravidic pulse, pulled it deeper, lashing blades and tentacles reaching for the tod.

Faeden's body had torn itself apart, reducing it every second to something less than the Necrian, something feral. Eyes glared at Akran with a cold hatred that was alien in the predatory nature of most Necrians. There was very little left of Faeden, his body molding itself as the nanites and his psionics overwhelmed the mortal form, casting it aside and tearing him into new and horrible things.
Nano cables lashed the air - nearly invisible save for a glimmer as they caught the light of the fires outside - even as horrid, mind ending tentacles reached for his enemy, charged with rampant psionics. One touch would be enough to send a trained soldier screaming into the dark from madness, let alone someone attuned to the psychic weave.
Faeden's last conscious thought was 'is that a mouth in my stomach?' and then it all became a haze, cold darkness engulfing his mind and he was very aware of Saer'kharn's pulsing mind across the vast dark, calling to him. He watched his body being pulled like a puppet, the elder horror clawing its way to Akran.

Fel’tethra
Streets


"I... I was following my wife, and my mother-in-law since she was carrying her."

Kelaetra fought back tears - anger and shame welling up in her. Why did he always have to be so naive and honest? Goddess...

"Why did you run away, Thane Tyrass?"

"I-I... I was..."
But then the Alavan who was tending to her mother spoke and her heart nearly stopped.
She'd known that the delegates would be attacked, knew there might be casualties - the price of war - but she'd never dreamed it would be 'Mother.'
Thankfully, the attention was off her for a moment, allowing her to collect her thoughts.

"Sir, the closest hospital Our Holy Lady General. It's six blocks to the northeast of our position. If we can commandeer a vehicle then we should be able to get her there. If you'll allow me to I'll lead the group."

Sork's intense copper eyes didn't leave Kelaetra for a moment, but he was clearly making snap decisions. "We're not splitting up again, Sargent. That didn't do us any good last time, it's not helping now. We keep together. Governor Shuji, sir. I apologize but I need you to carry your mother-in-law. I need my troopers at all points. That means I'm not binding you. You're wife is another story." He squatted down next to Kelaetra and lifted her face so that she was forced to meet his heated gaze. "One that I want to hear as soon as we've stabilized the Governor."

It didn't take the Sargent long to find an abandoned car - monstrous thing that was clearly more for show than practicality. But Shuji, Kelaetra and the wounded Governor Tyress fit easily into the back, accompanied by the Sargent and Captain in the front. The rest of the squad took hold of the outside with gear that Kelaetra recognized as Necrian Special Tactics and Authority division's mobility gauntlets - capable of magnetizing to most material or providing the strength to claw into even duracrete. These weren't just police officers - these were first responders.

"It's going to take us a few minutes to get to Our Holy Lady," Captain Sork said as he cut the high-beams from the civilian-edition APC and stamped on the gas, speeding them up the high street. "Time enough for you to fill in some details, Thane."

Kelaetra, hands still bound behind her, didn't dare to meet his gaze in the mirror.
"We... I. I Panicked. I didn't know... who to follow. The Marines were being fired upon. We were too far away and then your men-"
"Not my boys and girls, Your Honorableness," Sork snarled. "We just saved your asses and I've lost enough to these turn coats that I'm not taking that. Go on."
"Police forces and Night Guards attacked us," Kelaetra snarled back, bile rising in her throat. "They cut us off. I made the best choice for my family."
Sork's eyes flicked to her then back to the road. "Some how, Thane, I don't think that's the whole truth. Right now, we're under martial law and the military is tied up fighting the military. So when it comes to passing judgement on traitors, I prefer a good, old fashioned hanging. Gives them time to try and come clean, you know? So how about we don't stretch your pretty neck and you tell us what the fuck is going on?"

Fel'tethra, Jungle Road...

"It was them or us, Nagy. With that shit going down in the city, they didn't put up that roadblock for the typhoon. They were trying to stop us from leaving the city. Only reason they wanted us out of the truck was so they could shoot us without risking hitting the plasmid gel. We gotta warn Nax and Koiwa!"


"Oh fuck," Yana said, earning herself a look from Nagy and Seito - she almost never swore. They didn't have time to react though as she shifted the trash-heap truck into top gear and they barreled into the dark, jungle forest. Wing whipped by them, rain lashing at their faces as Yana drove them through the underbrush.
"Fucking shit, ducha-mar, chetting fuck!" She whipped the wheel to the side, scrapping off the paint from the passenger side door. "It's not... Nagy, I'm so sorry. Goddess, what have I done..."

They crashed through a small bush and then skidded across the landing field, narrowly missing Lucky's half-sunken form and sliding to a stop under the cover of his metal belly.
Nagy barely had time to breathe again before Yana had grabbed her and pulled her into a rib-shattering hug, her shoulders shaking. "Nagy, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry..."
"W-what do you mean," Nagy asked, trying to push Yana away, trying to look into her eyes.
"I didn't think they'd actually do it," Yana said, tears already starting to fall. "The SIN... they've come for the world... We need to find Nax."

Fel'tethra Outskirts
Spaceport...


The barking roar of the Xiscapian weapon didn't quite register with Nax, his head still ringing from the blow from a metal pipe. He could see Faran's thugs fall - the man with a gurgling sigh from his destroyed lungs and hole in his chest, the woman from her head vanishing into a red mist.

He heard another report of the AXES pistol and he vaguely remembered that Koiwa's shots always seemed to the draw to the left. Struggling to his knees and hands, Nax tried not to shake his head, which caused the pain to spike. He felt hot blood drip down his face, spattering on the Bucket's floor.
That was going to hurt in the morning.

Faran had only enough time to dive over the bar and behind Nigi's family before Koiwa's shots shattered the bottles of beer and liquor above him, three of them ripping chunks out of the wood and brick.
"Furry fucker," he snarled, blind firing his own lancet pistol over the bar at the door. "I knew Nax was too soft to kill you. He should have. Would have been a neat, clean end for you, Koiwa. But no, had to try and play both sides of the war. Well now I'm going to gun you down and take pieces of you off for him, then burn the whole lot of you in tribute to the Empress. Maybe I'll roast some marshmallows too!"
Another trio of lancet's tore into the wall hiding Koiwa, one punching through, leaving a smoldering hole of slag.
Nigi and her brood were cowering in front of the bar, just in front of Faran.
No clear shot and Nax was definitely down for this count.

"Give it up, fox," Faran yelled. "Give up and lay down your weapon, kick it over here, or I cut one of these pieces of shit down. At random. Going to be good old Nigi? Her fiery son? Her oafish brute of a half-wit? Or the little toy girl - damn but I'll miss that one..."
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Fri Dec 16, 2016 7:19 am

XIS Jungle Mistress, Cockpit...

Whoever was piloting the ambassador's ship was very good, Rowan decided as she pulled up on the control yoke to send her fighter climbing back through the rainy night. Her antiproton blasts had torn into the street and storefront behind the Lance as the ship edged away, keeping low and fleeing deeper into the city. The First Lieutenant and her wingmate followed, streaking scant meters above roofs and treetops as they pursued the transport doggedly. A chime alerted Rowan to a message that appeared on her HUD: the Necrians were trying to tight-beam some nasty malware into her Shuriken's systems. She scowled at the notification, knowing that the fighter's electronic defenses would keep the attempt out but still pursing her lips at how they were trying to violate the Jungle Mistress.

It looks like they're headed for the skyscrapers in the financial district, reported Jungle Rat from her station high above. If we put a few birds on their tail we might be able to get them before they get there.

Rowan considered it. The Lance was quick and agile enough that she hadn't been able to maintain a good fix on it with her guns. Missiles might have a better chance, but when she scanned the ground below she realized that they were overflying a residential area. Even a successful kill would cause carnage on the ground, to say nothing of what might happen if the missiles found targets other than the transport. Wait for it to get close to the financial district, then try for it. We'll risk collateral damage otherwise.

Copy that. They didn't have long to wait. She saw the skyscrapers rising up on her scopes in less than a minute, unlit black monoliths standing stolidly against the storm. The Lance was headed directly for them, engines burning brightly as the ambassador's ship ran for all she was worth. Missile one away, missile two away, the pilot of Jungle Rat rattled off, followed a moment later by the corresponding confirmation from Jungle Machine. Four air-to-air missiles burst out overhead, flinging themselves ahead of the Shuriken formation to rapidly close on the Lance, the quartet of lights outmatching even the transport's speed as they sought the sleek winged ship.

One missile rose high, arcing upwards in a blaze, and Rowan realized that the transport's ECM had confused the weapon, sending it chasing a fake target that it would never catch. Another perceived having caught up to the ship and promptly detonated, exploding uselessly in midair hundreds of meters away from the Lance. The other two weren't so easily fooled, the closest accelerating as it neared the stern of its prey before the Yiddrian on the hull fired and its laser blew the missile apart in another orange burst that briefly lit the city below. But that had given the last missile the chance to catch up, and Rowan watched expectantly as it inexorably closed the gap. The Lance banked hard around one of the skyscrapers and the missile followed, both disappearing behind the building before an explosion sent debris spiraling into the air.

Flight lead, can you confirm that as a kill? Even over the neural link Rowan could tell the eagerness of the Jungle Rat's pilot.

Negative, I did not have a visual on the target. Will sweep the area to confirm. Rowan fought the temptation to slow down in order to get the best look possible at the site: if the ship was waiting for her then that could be a fatal mistake. A quick pass would be enough to tell her what the attack's results were. Jungle Hunter, cover me, she ordered her wingmate, and the tod confirmed before the Jungle Mistress went howling past the skyscraper. Her cameras quickly found the smoldering hole in the side of the building where the missile had struck, but there was no evidence of wreckage or a crash site. Circling, she scanned again and swore silently.

Looks like a miss, Jungles. We have lost contact with the target. Must be a cloaking device. Stay alert. Yet even as she gave the command the woman knew that the Lance had managed to escape them. With stealth systems active combined with the storm it would be all but impossible to find the transport unless it wanted to be found. She only let it go for a couple minutes more before she reformed her flight. By then a new transmission was being piped into her mind. Rowan listened intently before contacting her fighters again.

Jungles, we have new objectives. According to Command the police on the ground have joined the rebellion and are aiding the militia. We are clear to engage all known law enforcement positions with a priority on their stations and infrastructure. Jungle Rat, Jungle Machine, you are authorized to conduct bombing runs on targets of your choosing. Jungle Hunter, you are to cover me while I level the Government Center. We will rejoin the rest of the formation once that objective is complete.

Copy that Jungle Mistress, the abhuman waggled the wings of the Jungle Rat at her. Wilco. Good hunting.

As the other two Shuriken peeled away Rowan took her own ship high, circling back over the city as the wind rattled the fighter-bomber's frame. There were only splotches of light here and there on the ground, though if it was outages due to the storm, battle damage, or the more alert residents observing blackout conditions she didn't know. It was hardly ideal bombing conditions, but the Government Center wasn't going anywhere and she knew its exact coordinates. That made it child's play to feed the numbers into the computer, chart a strike angle, and lock onto the sprawling, elegant collection of buildings. It was a shame, but the militia had obviously been interested in occupying the center and she had orders not to allow that to happen. The Imperial Marines had cleared the complex during their operation, so she had no qualms in pressing her thumb down on the launch buttons and watching as a pair of missiles flashed out, shortly followed by another two from the Jungle Hunter. There would be little left of the Government Center but a ruined crater.

We'll observe the strike results and rejoin the others, she transmitted.

Copy that. Ma'am, what are we going to do when that fleet gets here?

The abruptness of the question gave Rowan pause, as did the fact that she had no real answer for him. I don't know, she finally said. I expect Jungle Squadron will go down fighting. But as for us, the pilots? I really don't know. It all depends on whether the flotilla makes it out or not.

Do you think it will?

I don't know. The silver lining is that if it doesn't, it will probably stay in orbit to protect the evacuation, which means any escape pods will definitely make it to the surface. We'll probably live. Beyond that, I can't say.

They were both silent as they watched the missiles impact, a column of smoke, dust, and fire rising into the air that could be seen for kilometers all around.

Government Center
Number 6, the Administrative Building
Lobby...


Akran realized all too late that he had underestimated Faeden. The tod had felt the lance impact, the shuddering thud of metal spearing into flesh, but the monstrous Necrian had barely moved and before he could draw away Faeden's tendrils were grasping at the spear. He let go but it seemed like the tentacles were multiplying exponentially, bursting forth from the horror that the Necrian ambassador was devolving into and all snaking for him. They wrapped around his arms and legs and even his tail, clamping down and cutting into the armor in a bid to dismember him into chunks for the fetid, gaping maw. Akran strained without much result, his own nanites frantically trying to repair the damage to his suit while shields buckled and his psionics flared to keep the insanity at bay, fighting just to survive for a few seconds longer.

The tendrils were relentless, dragging him closer and closer to the curved teeth as his heart pounded, but he was too focused on struggling to be afraid. Yet as he was forced down to Faeden's center mass he realized that he was not going to escape. The man's tentacles were too many and strong, holding him even under the pressure of his gravitic harness, and he knew that even if he could keep from being devoured it was only a matter of time before they finally broke through and sent him into gibbering madness before mercifully tearing him apart. This is the end, he thought as he stared down Faeden's gullet.
Then he remembered.

While the tentacles didn't afford him much give, they couldn't stop him from twisting in their grasp as he raised an arm. It seemed a futile gesture, as if he was trying to brace himself against Faeden's mouth to keep from being dropped in, but then he lowered his hand to point directly down the thing's throat. The nanites swirled as his HUD showed the simple calculus of his last gambit: Grenade Launcher: [1] (I).
Akran mentally pulled the trigger.

The grenade thumped directly into Faeden's mouth, slamming against the back of his throat before it dropped away. The incendiary explosion sent flames bursting from between the thing's teeth, tendrils vaporizing to send the kitsune crashing to the floor before the burning creature. Another grenade might have served him well, but he had no more and there was no time. Scrambling to his feet, Akran turned and bolted, staggering as his damaged armor began to come apart. His hands ripped away at the twisted, mangled sections, gravitic harness offline by the time he got through the front doorway. Jumping over Herak's bloody corpse, he ran down the steps past the bodies of the militia lying there, sprinting for all he was worth for the far alleyway.

He'd just made it through the mouth before his sensitive ears picked up on the almost imperceptible shriek of a falling bomb. Akran dove behind a dumpster but the blast still knocked him flat, slamming his half-naked body into the pavement as a rush of smoke and dust filled the alley. His cybernetics automatically compensated for his hearing and vision, letting him listen to the groan of buildings collapsing and the hungry rustle of fires as he consulted his diagnostics. His armor was mostly ruined, he was mostly out of ammunition, and he had more than a few wounds including a piece of shrapnel that had apparently embedded itself in his tail, but he would survive.
Exhaling, he braced his weary arms against the ground and stood up.

Visibility was almost nothing. The choking haze of ash and smoke swirled over everything, cut through only by the torrential downpour of the typhoon and, paradoxically, bits of embers raining from the sky. He watched it all for a few moments, scanners cutting through the particles as he sought out any movement around him. There was nothing. Anything living in the blast radius was either now dead or hunkered-down.
Akran turned away. His mission was complete, and Kaga would be waiting for him.

Police Vehicle...

Kouzai hunched low in the back seat of the squad car. She'd been thoroughly soaked in the near-freezing temperatures but her Vulpes Seishin heritage ensured that she didn't so much as shiver, though the clothes sticking to her fur were uncomfortable. Rather more so was the hood they'd thrown over her head and the way the cops had tightly cuffed her hands in front of her, wrists already tingling with the telltale prickle of circulation loss. She didn't bother to say anything about it; this was not the first time "F1_1ckingGenius33245" had been arrested.
But she didn't feel like much of a genius now.

What the fuck is going on? She'd heard the lancer fire, screams, and explosions as the cops had hustled her into the waiting car, but they'd driven away as quickly as they could to leave her with little more than inklings. Of course she knew about the meeting taking place right across the street, she hadn't missed how soldiers had locked down the road due to NFP threats, and all she could imagine was that the terrorists had actually made good on their promises and attacked. They must think I'm involved, she thought uneasily. Shit. The cops who had arrested her hadn't told her what she was being charged with. Under her hood the vixen's large ears perked as she heard the car's radio chirp from up front. As the officer in the passenger seat tuned in she realized that they didn't know she could hear past the divider between her and the front seat.

"Car 41, be advised that your convoy will need to divert south along Aguilar Street to detour around OHLG, we have reports of combat in that area, how copy, over."

"Five by five dispatch, acknowledged," the passenger answered. The radio clicked and she heard the man shift in his seat. "Fighting at the hospital? Do we have anyone over there?"

"Yeah, a few cars got pulled to go help out some militia and loyalists," the driver told him. "Apparently a bunch of troops ended up holed up in there somehow."

"Fuck, that's bad. Hope they can smoke them out, we'll need that hospital."

The men weren't saying anything that might be useful to her, so Kouzai turned her ear to the radio instead. It was unsurprisingly busy.

"Dispatch, Foxhound Lead. STAD team staging at rendezvous point now, we roll in five. ETA to target is twenty five mikes. Any update on the perps, over."

"Foxhound Lead, suspects are as follows. Kitsune male, Kasai, white hair, wearing blue trousers and a black leather jacket with Xiscapian Imperial Marine insignia. Necrian female, red hair, wearing gray coveralls. Abhuman female, bat, brown hair, wearing gray coveralls. To be considered armed and highly dangerous. Advise your ROE include STK, over."

"Copy that dispatch. We weren't really intending on taking prisoners anyway. Thanks for the update, over and out."

Kouzai felt a chill go through her that had nothing to do with the rain or the cold. She had just heard as plain as day that a dispatch officer suggest killing three people, and the team leader casually agree to it without hesitation. What the fuck? Who are they even raiding in the middle of this war? A kitsune-necrian-abhuman trio doesn't sound like a NFP cell.

Before long she felt the car turn a final time and settle to a stop. Cold, wet air wafted into the vehicle and then she was being dragged out, a firm hand on each shoulder guiding her through the downpour. Without being able to see Kouzai tripped on the stairs, only just able to keep her balance by sticking her tail out and swaying for a moment, and one of the officers snickered. "Watch your step, fox-face." Inside it was warm and dry and her shoes squeaked against the floor as she was pulled through the building and finally spun around for a key to work into her cuffs. Her hands were freed and they yanked her hood away, making her squint even in the dim light. They'd taken her directly to a cell. Probably not too worried about normal protocols given the situation. She looked up at the two officers standing at the door.

"You know the drill," the closer Necrian folded his arms. "Strip."

She sighed. There was nothing fun about being arrested, but this was one of her least favorite parts. It's not like things would be any different in a regular Xiscapian jail, she tried to tell herself as she pulled her waterlogged tank top over her head. But that was a lie: these men watched her kick her shoes off and pull her trousers down with an intensity that went beyond mere attentiveness. I hate giving these assholes a show, Kouzai scowled at them as she undid her chest wrap and dropped her fundoshi, leaving her nude save for a not-inconsiderable number of piercings across her body from the tips of her black-striped ears down to the end of her lashing tail.

"There," she threw her arms up. "Now you wanna tell me what I'm here for?"

"Sure," the man handed off her pile of clothes to his fellow, bidding him away, and shut the cell door. From the other side of the bars he smirked at her. "Technically, you're in here because you got caught trying to hack the government center's network. But we both know that you didn't do that," his words made her shut her mouth as she went to protest. "It doesn't matter. You're really here because you've been a pain in this department's ass for way too long. Now we get to do something about it."

Kouzai stared at him. "What do you mean?"

His teeth flashed white in the gloom. "There's big changes coming, vixy. Soon we'll have a new government. A Necrian government. One that doesn't have any room for the likes of you. You won't be missed."

She felt her heart start to pound anew as she realized the implications. "You're going to execute me?"

"What's that Setulan saying? 'Bullets are cheaper than trials.' I think it's appropriate."

Kouzai couldn't speak. Her mouth opened but no words came out. But I never wanted to hurt anyone. I don't deserve this. I didn't even do anything! But as she watched him she knew nothing she could say could convince the officer before her. His gaze had gone from predatory heat to frigid hardness. With another she might have been able to play on that lust, keeping herself alive for a little longer, but there was nothing she could do as the Necrian stepped back and pulled out his lancer pistol.

"Now just keep still," he said as he flicked off the safety. "If you don't move I can draw a bead on your head and you'll be dead before you even know it. If you try to avoid it I might just wing you, and then I'll have to keep shooting you." He leveled the weapon, finger sliding down onto the trigger to brace against it. "Any last-"

A thunderous noise consumed Kouzai's hearing before she felt her back slam into the wall and then she hit the floor. She was aware when she slipped back into consciousness because everything hurt, and she was almost grateful when the darkness came to take her again -no! Her eyes flew open. You're not dead. You have to move. Don't lie there and let him kill you.

Turning her head, she inhaled and immediately coughed, a somewhat surreal feeling since she couldn't hear it. The air was full of dust and smoke, stinging at her lungs and obscuring her vision, but she still had the best view from her position on the floor. There was a shape braced against the cell door, and after a moment she realized that it was her would-be executioner. Hope flooded her body and then she was moving, the green-haired vixen scrambling for the door. When she reached through the bars and touched him her hand came back wet and red with blood, but she ignored that as her fingers found their way along his belt to the ring of keys.

It took a few tries, but after some jangling and silent curses she found the right key to push open the cell door. Kouzai kept her low stance beneath the ceiling of smoke, ears perking high as her hearing slowly returned to her. From the crackling and the smell in the air something was burning, and when she looked down the hall she found several places where the roof had fallen in and rain poured through the gaps from above. Breathing shallowly, she checked herself. She could feel blood trickling from her ears and her back still hurt, but when she put her hand to it she felt no wounds or odd lumps. Deciding that she must be okay, she glanced both ways up and down the hall as she tried to remember where the closest exit was.

"Sal!" the ragged voice made her ears flick as she looked back. The other officer was stumbling through the smoke, coughing and keeping one hand on the wall to guide himself. "Sal! Are you alright?" Kouzai shrank back, pressing herself against the bars, but as he staggered on she realized that he was coming right for her. She had just seconds to act.

Kouzai lunged. She'd never been great at wrestling, but she'd learned enough in school to know how to pin his legs with hers and squeeze down on his arms after she slammed him to the floor. The vixen straddled him in a perversely sexual position, muscles straining as he tried to break out before he twisted his head around and his sharp teeth bit into her wrist. She yelled in pain and yanked her arm back, flinging droplets of blood across the floor, and that was all the opening he needed. The Necrian grabbed his pistol and yanked it up, a blast sizzling past her face as he fired it in a panic. Snarling, she lashed her tail around to whip against his hand and he yelped and dropped it. Another sweep with that agile limb sent the gun spinning away across the floor, and she snapped her bleeding arm forward.

Her claws dug underhanded into his throat. Hot blood gushed over her fingers as she pierced his larynx and he gurgled, a spray of blood ejecting from his mouth. He jolted so hard that he nearly threw her off, bucking her body as his face convulsed and he tried futilely to breathe. The man's pale face darkened quickly, and with her hands still squeezing his neck she watched as his eyes bulged, silently begging her for mercy that she had neither the ability nor the inclination to give. Finally, after several minutes, he settled and his head rolled back, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling above.

Panting, Kouzai stood. She'd already been here for too long, she decided as blood dribbled down her fingers and dripped from the tips of her claws. Before she stepped away she had the presence of mind to take the man's pistol, checking the energy level -full but for the single shot- before strapping his holster to her thigh. Like virtually all Xiscapian kitsune she knew the basics of handling a firearm, so its weight was reassuring. With some means of defense secured she began to walk.

All of the other cells were empty, she noticed as she passed them by. Whether that was a good or bad thing, she couldn't say. The visitor's area was similarly deserted, most of the ceiling having crushed the tables and chairs to leave only rain-soaked rubble behind, and it was only when she peeked out into the lobby that she found anyone. The officer who had been at the front desk was slumped over it and missing her head, and more bodies lay scattered around the room, a few moaning or clutching at their injuries. None of them seemed to notice her when she skirted the edge of the room and stepped out the shattered hole where the front door had once been.

What had once been a row of police vehicles was now little more than a pile of twisted, smoldering ruins. There was no one else in sight in the heavy rain, and Kouzai realized that there was nothing keeping her from escaping. Have to get back to the apartment, she immediately thought. Grab what I can, then bug out. Anywhere but here.
Pistol in hand, she skulked off into the rain.

Streets...

The stench of Kelaetra's disgust and rage stuck in Shuji's nose as he cradled Alyana in his arms. The scent tells couldn't clue him in on exactly why his wife was feeling that way, but he hadn't argued with Sork about keeping her restrained. As the rain pattered at the roof of the converted armored vehicle he watched Kelaetra, trying to meet her eyes and always unable to as she refused to look at him or anyone else. Next to Sork Kurshina mainly kept her eyes on the road ahead, but Shuji caught her looking back at Kelaetra as well, vulpine orbs narrowed. Did she suspect the same thing that he did?

He listened with raised ears as Sork questioned her and Kelaetra answered. Shuji knew better than to believe her. Though he hadn't known Kelaetra for most of her life, he had never seen her panic before, not even in the middle of fighting like at the government center. His mind went back to the conference chambers when she'd pulled the pistol he didn't even know she'd had, and pointed it at the Lieutenant Governor's aide. Why would she have a weapon, and why would she do that, unless she had known what was coming?

"Some how, Thane, I don't think that's the whole truth. Right now, we're under martial law and the military is tied up fighting the military. So when it comes to passing judgement on traitors, I prefer a good, old fashioned hanging. Gives them time to try and come clean, you know? So how about we don't stretch your pretty neck and you tell us what the fuck is going on?"

Shuji's hackles raised instantly. "You will do no such thing," his orange eyes met Sork's in the rearview mirror. "Martial law doesn't mean you get to do whatever you damn well please. Everyone in the Empire is entitled to a trial...even suspected traitors," saying the word made his stomach lurch, and he glanced at Kelaetra for an instant before looking away. "But getting help for Alyana is more important. That's what we should be focused on."

Even as he spoke the car turned the final corner and slowed. The reason why was immediately obvious: the latter half of the street before the hospital was covered in makeshift fighting positions and burned-out vehicles. Militia soldiers, police, and men and women in long coats crouched and knelt behind whatever cover they could find, clutching lancer weapons in the rain and sending blasts streaming up at the towering Our Holy Lady General Hospital. Even as they watched a Scarab turned down the street from a wide alleyway, cannon spitting crimson bursts at the building's windows and blowing away pieces of concrete before a missile streaked down from a higher window and the vehicle exploded, settling onto the street as a burning husk. No one seemed to have noticed the civilian APC.

Joint Base Shield, HQ of the 1st Imperial Armored Brigade/6th Night Guards Militia...

The leader of the Imperial Marines proved to be a female escan called Lieutenant Colonel Lyall. The she-wolf had set her command post up in a mostly-empty motor pool, with only a half dozen FAR scout cars and Growler trucks sitting around the entrance from what the surviving Army personnel had found. Imperial Marines lined the catwalks overhead at the second story windows, piling up scrap armor and burned-out equipment around the firing positions where autocannons were set up while sharpshooters lay prone on the rooftop. Occasionally a muffled shot would ring out as they found a militia target in another part of the base, but otherwise all was quiet for the moment apart from the deluge of Typhoon Rama. The rain pattered away on the roof as Kazuki stopped in front of her.

Ma'am, he gave her a tired bow as she turned to face him. Staff Sergeant Kazuki, A Company, 1st Engineering Battalion, reporting.

Staff Sergeant. From what I heard you did well out there. One of my lieutenants told me that you were leading an engineering squad that had collected at its barracks. What were they able to tell you about the situation?

We don't have any kind of communications beyond the base. Our command and control seems like it's just gone, and if I had been in charge of this attack the first thing I would have done is take down the base's link with other Imperial forces. Add some jamming on top of that and we're cut off. From what one of my men said the 6th heavily targeted our vehicles, especially armor and mobile guns, and they also hit the fires battalion generally and brigade HQ. They took away our mobility and our ability to coordinate, colonel, and now it seems like the brigade is scattered and disorganized.

Lyall nodded. That matches what we saw from the air. The HQ building and most of the motor pools and garages are razed or burning, and there was fighting throughout. It seems like we've been able to stabilize things though, at least for the moment. I don't think they were expecting my marines to drop in on them like that. In spite of everything she couldn't keep the satisfaction from her voice. In any case, staff sergeant, my battalion is rallying as much of the brigade as we can. The Necrians have a fleet in the system and they're headed right for us, so we need to get ready. Your division is supposed to be sending out a reconnaissance patrol as well to get its own eyes on the situation, so we should have a better picture of things soon. Regroup with your unit and stand by.

Yes ma'am.

Kazuki turned away and went back out into the rain. His makeshift squad was waiting near the motor pool's entrance, private Qin and Corporal Ard both resting their enormous cannons across the hood of a FAR with Wise, Noa, and Silero all wearing webbing laden with shells for the ammo-hungry weapons. None of them spoke as Kazuki joined them, only subtle flicks of tails or the barest nods exchanged. An IMP-4 rifle cracked and Kazuki glanced up, wondering if a Night Guard had just lost his or her life. For a moment his mind went back to the sniper he'd seen on the stairs, the trauma and vulnerability in her eyes as the amputee had looked at him, but when he closed his eyes he could picture Trava lying dead in front of him.

Why? He stared into the sky. As someone who had actually visited the Dominion's old capital and known so many Necrians personally, he knew how they could be. At its worst the Dominion had been arrogant, xenophobic, intolerant, stagnant, corrupted by an entrenched aristocracy and the endless political maneuverings of the families, and certainly not shy about imposing its will on lesser polities as during Operation Zodiak or with the Hetaevan clans -but as much as they and the Kitsune Empire had their mutual suspicion and distrust, relations had been slowly warming before the plunge into isolation. What had gone so wrong that the SIN was now invading his Motherland?
The tod shook his head. He had no answers, and he was tired of thinking.

Gradually other units of 1st Armored trickled in. Fellow engineers from Kazuki's own company as well as his battalion's other engineering company passed by, along with intelligence and signals types from the same battalion. He never saw Captain Acker. A random assortment of infantry from the mechanized battalions and supply and support companies troops followed, intermixed here and there with artillerymen and tankers. There were few enough of the gun and vehicle crews, even fewer officers, and he noticed almost no one from the 3rd Infantry Battalion. Eventually Lyall had gathered a small crowd around her, both of officers and enlisted. Kazuki noticed for the first time that she was now accompanied by Lieutenant Colonel Roni Hatzor of the brigade's 1st Cavalry Squadron. The Setulanite woman's armor was bloody but she herself seemed little worse for wear, eyes hard and narrow below where her short hair was plastered to her head from the rain. Beside her Lyall had icy blue eyes and a muzzle that looked like it had been born frowning. Hatzor spoke first.

"There is a fleet from the Solar Imperium of Necrisis in this system," the tanker officer announced, eyes slowly sweeping the assembly. "So far as we can tell, they infiltrated agents here via their diplomats, turned the militia and police against us, and now they're invading. The rest of 33rd Infantry remains at the city's starport, where they are organizing and supporting an evacuation effort. That means the bulk of the division will not be able to link up with us any time soon." She let the words hang in the air for a moment. "They have their own mission to see to. However, that doesn't mean we're entirely on our own out here. We have Lieutenant Commander Lyall's Imperial Marine battalion from the XIS Revan, including light armor and gunship support, and from what she tells me division is arranging to have all of its artillery and mortars and some of its own close air support back us up as well. Holdfast hasn't abandoned us yet and he's not starting now," she referred to Major General Shuuei's callsign and nickname.

"Thanks to reconnaissance we now have a handle on the situation. After Lieutenant Colonel Lyall's battalion landed the 6th Night Guards fell back to the base's perimeter. It seems like they've been decimated, but they're regrouping just inside the city. I've gotten reports that they are being helped by police and guerillas in civilian clothing, so if you see anyone out there then they're the enemy. I expect that they will launch a counterattack to try to finish us off, and when that artillery starts falling they might start getting desperate. Every one of you will have to be ready to fight for your position. I don't care if you're infantry, tanker, supply clerk, morale officer, we've taken lots of casualties of our own so we need all the help we can get right now. With that said..."

Kazuki watched and listened attentively as Hatzor, Lyall, and their subordinates outlined the plan. What vehicles they had would be committed to the front to use their firepower in order to buy time for the infantry to gather weapons and supplies and prepare fighting positions. If the IFVs, tanks, and gunships could hold off the militia and their supporters for long enough then the artillery would start taking its toll and those units would be able to either pull back or lead counterattacks depending on the situation. Otherwise it would all boil down to making strong defensive positions with large stockpiles. Kazuki knew why: they were surrounded and had nowhere to retreat to. The 1st Armored Brigade's base was now its prison, and only if they were very lucky would they be able to break out of the division surrounding them.

Our time to shine, he glanced back at his assortment of engineers. They weren't ideal for the task, nor was he their ideal leader for it, but nothing about the situation was ideal. As ever, they'd make do with reality. As soon as he was assigned the sector he was responsible for fortifying the tod's mind was already at work, comparing the courtyard entrance he was tasked with defending with the resources he would have at hand. Lives depended on how painful he could make it for the Necrians to try to attack their lines.

After Hatzor had finished she stared around at them all again. "I know you're all worried. About your futures, about your families, about the fact that this means war between the Solar Imperium and the Empire. I have no certainty about what will happen in the next few hours. But we are making every effort to evacuate as much of the city as we can. That includes your friends, your families, your loved ones, anyone who lives here and who you care about will be fleeing. That makes our stand here important beyond our own selves. If we fall here then the militia and their allies can reorganize and attack the spaceport. We can't allow that to happen. But as long as you fight hard, you give it your all, and you make these bastards bleed for every inch, no one will be able to say that you did anything less than everything you could."

She raised her fist into the air.

"Death to traitors."

Kazuki raised his fist into the air with the rest of the crowd, their chorused voices rising even over the howl of the storm and the rumble of armored vehicles.

"Death to traitors!

Death to traitors!

Death to traitors!
"

Spaceport Exterior...

Nagy stared at Yana, eyes wide and uncomprehending. The SIN, here? It seemed impossible, but she remembered all the lancer fire and explosions they'd seen in the city. The old, horrible feeling of helplessness washed over her, but she shook her head as if trying to dislodge the sensation from her head. We need to find Nax. Nagy held onto that notion. She could do that.

But not before hugging her girlfriend tightly back. "It's okay," she told her, wings extending from her back to shield them from the water dripping off the side of the Luck. "You still took the wheel when I couldn't. If it had been up to me we'd probably all be dead by now," the abhuman gave her a little smile. "So thank you. For my life." She kissed her, once, gently.

Seito saw none of the exchange. Even before Yana had completely stopped the truck the tod had jumped out of the bed, hitting the packed dirt of the field running. Bursting through the open hatch of the Luck allowed him to make a quick sweep from inside the ship: Nax and Koiwa were both absent. He'd only just started to smell their scent trails when gunshots rang out from the port building.
His own pistol in hand, the tod jumped back out into the rain and waved to the girls.

"C'mon! They must be up there!"

Spaceport Interior...

Two down, one left, Koiwa thought to herself as she listened to Faran's suppressive fire. She'd seen the first man die herself, and it had only taken a peek to confirm that the woman was dead too. Their leader was going to be more problematic. If there had only been the bar counter to contend with she could have fired into his cover and probably killed or at least wounded him, the energy-sheathed .50 rounds would either go straight through or produce enough shrapnel on the other side to get him, but she didn't have that option. The scut probably positioned them that way on purpose so he could have living shields if it came down to a firefight.

Faran's final taunt was accompanied by a burst melting through the wall in front of her, and Koiwa couldn't help but jerk back. Can't stay here, she thought even as she settled into a kneeling position to present a smaller target. Then the Necrian made his threat. Koiwa's hand tightened around the butt of her gun and she gritted her teeth. She had no illusions: if she gave herself up he'd kill her, and promptly murder Nax and Nigi's family as well. The thought of risking the hostages made her feel queasy, but she forced the feeling away. She had no real choice.

A sound behind her made the vixen whip around, pistol raised, but her hard visage crumpled into relief as she saw Seito, shortly followed by Yana and Nagy. Putting a finger to her lips, she flicked her tail at the trio, knowing they could all read tail-signing: Faran's behind bar. Going to pretend to give self up. She met Yana's eyes. You're the best shot. Take him.

Koiwa turned away. Yana hadn't had much experience with weapons when she'd first met her, just the basics that all Necrians learned in training, but since the escape from the Rookery she, Nax, Seito, and especially Nagy had all pitched in to help teach her how to handle a firearm in a combat situation. In true Necrian fashion Yana had ended up being one of their best shots, equal to Nax or her own self. But neither her nor Nax were available, and she knew Yana understood. Koiwa stood.

"Alright, Faran," she called. "I'm coming out. Just don't shoot anyone, alright? Just be cool," the vixen stepped around the doorway, hands in the air and her pistol dangling from her right. "I'm going to lay it down on the floor and kick it across to you, alright? Nice and easy," she crouched slowly and laid her AAXES down, every movement lethargic and deliberate as she soothed the man's nerves, luring him into a false sense of security. Even her kick was light, just enough to push the heavy pistol over the tile to rest next to Nigi, barely out of Faran's reach. To pick it up he'd have to step out from behind the bar.

Straightening up, Koiwa kept her hands in the air, palms out and fingers splayed. She edged slowly over to Nax, keeping Faran's attention on her and drawing it away from the door as she moved. "I just want to check him, alright? No funny business."
C'mon, Yana...
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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Alversia
Minister
 
Posts: 3240
Founded: Apr 26, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Alversia » Sat Dec 24, 2016 5:52 am

(OOC: This an RP done by Xis and myself offline, detailing what a few of our characters have been up to away from the main action. We did it in this manner so as not to slow down the main thread.)
(Part One)

===================================

Rain drove against the windshield of the four-by-four and transformed the world beyond into little more than hazy wetness in the vehicle's headlights. Wyan-Brigitte Chevalier loved it. A travel writer in her line of work usually went to rather nice places even if they did have the occasional brush with danger, but bumping down a muddy dirt track in the middle of a typhoon on a mostly uncharted moon was something else. Even if she was sure her butt was going to be sore by the end of the drive from all the bouncing around, she found it exhilarating.
Almost as exhilarating as her passenger.

She risked the glance across to the seat beside her. Wyan-Brigitte hadn't been planning on taking on a companion when she traveled to Fel'tethra, but the Veela had offered to pay her and in any case she would have loathed to refuse. The notoriously reclusive people were so rare, particularly in the Milky Way, that she practically considered it her duty to give one passage -if only so she could say that she'd met a Veela and spoken with her. But there was something else about Teynea that just captured her. She was keenly aware that the entire time they'd been there she'd spent more time looking at her lagomorph companion than photographing and writing about Fel'tethra like she'd meant to. That was what the trip out to the little outskirt town of Tamarow had been for, a chance to get in touch with the moon's nature, clear her head, and focus on her work.

Not that she was going to get much work done now. The halfbreed scowled at her own canine reflection in the windshield, but consoled herself a moment later. At least they'd be able to help out with the reconstruction efforts, and that would make for a nice piece on the colony's resilience in face of the elements. She found herself smiling again. Until then, she and Teynea could enjoy the storm. Maybe curl up under some blankets with hot cocoa and swap stories, she thought. Surely the Veela would have some good ones.

Idly, she reached out and twisted the knob for the radio, hoping for an update on the storm's progress. No matter what channel she flipped to there was nothing but static. She frowned and almost swore, but stopped herself at the last second with another furtive look at Teynea. She'd gotten the impression that the Veela didn't approve of foul language. "Well, we're not too far out from the city now," she settled back into her trembling seat. "So, how do you like Fel'tethra so far?" Wyan-Brigitte shot her companion a sheepish smile. "Freezing, dark, stormy, great vacation right?"

===============================

Teynea hated rain.

She always had. It stemmed from the heavy rainstorms that had swept the forests of Alversia, where it sounded like boars landing on the thin roof of her home, a horde beating to try and enter. Her mind had imagined all sorts of horrors trying to break in to reach at her, causing her to flee to her sister’s bed where she would snuggle up to her under the covers and try to keep her eyes closed until the morning light vanquished her fears. She was older now and the rain no longer held the same unknown terror, although the unease had never really left her. The heaviness of the rain and the howling of the wind was not helping that feeling. She had never been in a typhoon before and the novelty had worn off rather quickly. The incessant darkness through the windscreen, the world beyond the headlights invisible.

Of course she had never wanted to come here in the first place. There was a great and terrible darkness rumbling through her home galaxy, something that all her species could sense to some degree and which they had been mobilised to fight. Her sister had been one of those dispatched on a mission for the war, Elena’s last words before departing had been simple “Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon” and accompanied by a hug. The warmth of that embrace had carried her through the first few days of her absence as she waited for her own assignment. It had never come. She had been called in front of Avos and informed that the Imperii herself did not believe she was ready. In spite of her protests, she would be sent travelling rather than partaking in the war. So now here she was.

Her hood was up so she could not see her companion, nor could she see her. Water ran in thick rivulets down the heavy cloak but she could see as she fiddled with the radio. There was nothing but static no matter which frequency she tried. The woman was a strange mix, half-abhuman and half-shark but her enthusiasm for places like this was what had attracted her to Wyan. She seemed to have a plan for what she wanted to do when she had got here, which Teynea had lacked, so she had offered her some money -as she was supposed to do, so she had been told- to tag along. She sensed the girl’s reluctance to swear in front of her, perhaps thinking that Veela were too sensitive for that sort of thing. Little did she know she had travelled on a kitsune freighter to get here and the crew had cursed the whole way here. She was not overly bothered.

At the question, she turned and looked the woman in the eye, meeting her sheepish smile with a glum expression of her own, “The city was nice,” she answered in her soft voice, “and the town. It was nice to be able to help them…I wish this storm would stop though…” she trailed off. The unease had been growing on her for the past few hours and it was only getting worse the closer they got to the city. It was a vague feeling and it was frustrated her but the growing dread in her stomach was unmistakeable.

“Something’s wrong.” She half-whispered to herself, “In the city…something’s very wrong…”

===============================

Wyan-Brigitte immediately felt bad. She'd thought a bit of sardonic humor might help, but Teynea was clearly unmoved. Rather she just seemed to sink deeper into gloomy worry that almost hovered around her like a physical fog. The halfbreed shut her mouth and faced forward again. Maybe her imaginings of cozy storytelling had been unrealistic.

"Well, there is a typhoon coming," she said, if only because the sound of their voices was better than nothing. "It's not really a normal state of affairs. The worst of it will be gone by tomorrow, and it'll lose energy and dissipate after a few days. At least, that's what I heard on the weather reports earlier." After a moment she trailed off. As pertinent as it was at the moment, all she could think of to talk about was the weather?

The four-by-four began to climb a small hill, one of the last ones before the city. When she squinted through the sheets of rain Wyan-Brigitte could just make out flashing lights at the summit, crimson and yellow in the colors that all Necrian police used with their sirens. "Ah shit," she didn't catch herself that time, sighing the words out as she pulled on the stick and began to slow. "There must be a tree down in the road or something." She crept forward until she could make out the shapes of the four police officers behind the cruisers that blocked the road.

"Get out?" she groaned as one of the heavily-garbed officers waved. "Great. This is going to be fun." Pulling her own hood up, she put the truck in park and pushed the door open. Ice-cold rain immediately hammered down on her, making the halfbreed bow against it as she made her laborious way up the incline to where the officers were standing. She was aware of Teynea behind her.

"We need to see your identification!" a female sergeant called out.

"Uh, okay," Wyan-Brigitte wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, but arguing would mean she had to stand out in the rain for longer. She handed over her wallet with I.D. enclosed for the Necrian to look over, then accepted it when it was returned. "Is there anyone traveling with you?" she asked as she gestured to Taynea to show her own I.D.

"No, just the two of us. We're down from Tamarow."

===============================

Teynea could sense the feeling of guilt from the half-breed and it brought up similar feelings of regret herself. She had not meant to drag down the mood of her companion, who’s cheerful demeanour had been the only real bright spot in the pretty grim days. It wasn’t her fault that she was here when her sister was a galaxy away fighting a war. She had been sent here for a reason. She just had to make the most of it, see all she could of the galaxy before she returned to play her part. The dread was also not her fault, it was coming from up ahead, a glowing beacon in the squall.

“I will hope so,” She answered in regards to the weather, looking up at the swirling black clouds, “I would like to see some of this planet when it not hidden behind a storm.” There was a moment of silence as they climbed the hill. She turned to look out the window, exhaling softly as her view was entirely concealed behind that grey curtain. Of all the places she could have picked, she had to come here. There had been an opportunity to do some research, to find a place that would be interesting and suit her tastes but she had just picked the most remote place she could in friendly space and gone there out of some sort of misguided petulance. More fool her.

She squinted as the sirens loomed out of the darkness and they were quickly flagged down by the two patrol cars which had blocked the road. The curse had her raising her eyebrows, if only because it was unexpected. When the engine died, the Veela gave a loud sigh as she tensed up and climbed out of the four-by-four. She wrapped her cloak around her as the rain hammered against her hood and stepped up, staying behind Wyan as she spoke with the female police woman. Her eyes narrowed as she reached out to the four individuals, one after the other. What she felt had her hand lowering under her attire to her belt.

They’re going to kill us.

When asked for her ID she stepped up, other hand slipping into the belt wrapped around her slender waist as she handed the card to the sergeant. It had her name, her race and her planet of origin. Her eyes narrowed as she read her face, waiting for the inevitable.

===============================

If Teynea's name, species, or birthplace held any significance to the sergeant then she showed no sign. After a moment she handed the card back, only looking the Veela in the face for a moment before gesturing with her lancer carbine. "I'm going to need to detain both of you," she told them. "For your own safety. I can't really say more than that right now."

Wyan-Brigitte stared at her, taken aback. If she hadn't known better she thought she might have misheard the officer over the storm. "Detain us? For what? We were just driving, we haven't broken any laws!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the woman shook her head. "Please present your hands." As she said it another Necrian stepped up beside her, rifle slung across his chest as he waited for Teynea to do the same. A pair of cuffs were already in his hand.

===============================

Teynea’s eyes narrowed as the officer stepped up to her, rifle slung across his chest and cuffs already in his hand. She read him as easily as one would read a book and she knew exactly what he was planning to do. Restrain the two of them, put them in the back of a car and drive to somewhere quiet. A shot each to the back of the head and then bury them in a grave. The idea that he was so casually thinking about her death twigged something inside her, a growing feeling alongside the concern. He was even thinking about who was going to get the four-by-four when they were done with the killing. The thought of murdering her in cold blood was bad enough but the idea that they were going to kill Wyan without even a second thought, that some of them were thinking of the two of them in ways that made her stomach turn. A low growl escaped her short muzzle as she held her wrists up. The guard leaned in to cuff her, entirely oblivious to any danger around him.

She moved like lighting, kneeing him in the stomach and forcing him to bend over. She grabbed his rifle and twisted it in place over his back so that the strap rode up and wrapped around his throat. His eyes widened and he scrabbled ineffectively at his throat as she pressed herself against him, shielding her from the two other cops at the cars. She glared at the sergeant and the woman was tossed back as if caught in a wind, disappearing off the road and into the rain. The two remaining officers raised their rifles but found them torn from their grip, slings snapping around their shoulders as they hung in the air. A pulling gesture with her hand had the two slamming hard into the cars they had been using for cover, falling backwards limply. Turning her attention back to the man straining against her she let him go and with a spinning kick, connected with his head. He fell to the ground, cold before he hit the muddy road.

“Are you hurt?” Teynea was looking around for another threat, hand by her side, “Did they hurt you?” She looked over Wyan critically, “Get in the car. Hurry!” She gestured to the driver’s seat.

===============================

This time when Wyan-Brigitte took a step it was to the side, even the storm not dampening her senses enough to keep her oblivious to Teynea grabbing the officer. She could only stare at the sight of the Veela coolly strangling the man, struck dumb by the spectacle of her quiet and demure friend. After a moment she glanced to the side, wondering why the sergeant wasn’t doing anything, only to see that the woman was gone. It was only later that she figured out that she had been thrown away into the jungle. As it was she looked back in time to see the other two men hoisted into the air before they were dashed against their vehicles with the crunch of bones breaking and the tinkling of shattered glass.

“I-I,” she shuttered in response to the Veela’s questions. The sergeant had never so much as laid a finger on her. She just stared at Teynea, knowing that she had done all of this and without the faintest idea why. That level of violence had been the last thing she would have thought the lagomorph was capable of. Finally she managed to speak.

“Y-you killed them,” she swallowed hard. “Why?”

===============================

Teynea did not respond at first, long silver-bladed weapon in hand, slipping her foot under the cop who had attempted to arrest her and lifted him over so he was looking upwards. She knelt and checked at his throat with two fingers. There was still a pulse so she rolled him over onto his side to avoid him drowning in the rain and moved on to the other two cops who had been standing behind the cars. Two of the windows had been shattered and a few bones broken for the cops but they were still breathing. She kicked them onto their sides, carried their rifles over her shoulder by the sling and pistols in one hand. She dropped them to the ground with a wet splash and which a flick of her wrist the weapons disappeared, flying off into the mist. The sergeant she was not concerned about, she was no longer a threat. As she walked around, her cloak parted to expose the armour she wore underneath, glowing softly in the night.

Satisfied that the area was now clear, she looked back and saw that Wyan-Brigitte was staring at her with a look between wonder and fear, leaning towards the latter. When there was no movement, she stepped forward, slipping her weapon back onto her belt with the blade melting away to nothing.
“I saw what they were thinking,” she said after a moment, “They were not arresting us. Their orders were to take us to a quiet area nearby, a clearing in a forest, and they were going to kill us. A pistol shot to the back of the head.” She closed her eyes, trying to erase the memory of the shot, of Wyan’s still form falling forward, “And they would have buried us. They would never have told anyone. They would have lied about every having met us and we would have been lost. They weren’t just going to kill us Wyan-Brigitte, they wanted to kill us. Wanted to. It would be a pleasure for them.” She looked away.

“I don’t know what’s happened in the city but I know that they’ll need help. So we need to get there as fast as we can.” She handed her one of the guard’s pistols, “Are you with me?”

===============================

She could only stand in the rain and watch Teynea check her victims. At first she thought that she might be finishing them off, but when she craned her head she saw that the Veela was kicking each of them over onto their sides. Her eyes were inevitably drawn to the armor that was visible under the cloak, and only then it struck her how little she actually knew about the lagomorph. Their eyes met, Teynea stepped forward, and Wyan-Brigitte resisted the urge to step back. If she had wanted to hurt her she would have already done so.

The halfbreed listened to Teynea's explanation, able to hear her perfectly even in the storm. A sinking, queasy feeling came over her at the notion of being so casually executed. Her eyes flicked down to the offered pistol, then back up to Teynea's eyes. "I've heard stories about Veela," she said slowly. "That they're moral, and they fight for justice, and they have psionic abilities that are practically unmatched. I'm trusting that that's all true right now. And that I haven't misjudged you." She took the pistol by the butt. "I hope I'm right."

After a moment and her instincts finally kicked in, the two predators inside her overcoming her civilized shock. Hurrying over to the closest officer, she grabbed his dropped rifle and picked a few more magazines from his coat pockets. Among them she found a set of keys and she kept the ring around one finger as she ducked into the front seat of the sergeant’s patrol car. “C’mon, c’mon, you must still keep real maps –yes!” she yanked the plastic-protected local map from the glovebox and shoved it into her pockets too.

By then her heart was pounding as her body caught up to the gravity of the situation, and it made for a deafening trip around to the back of the car as both storm and blood roared in her ears. She had to hold her own hand to keep it from shaking as she pushed the key into the trunk’s lock and popped it open. Wyan-Brigitte grabbed the first two things she saw: one of the needleguns that all Necrian police carried in their trunks, and a first aid kit. The gun was slung as well so she could snatch up a pair of extra radios, and she carried the entire assortment back through the rain to the four-by-four. It was all dumped onto the seat behind her before she climbed back into the cabin.

"Where in the city are we going?" she asked as she released the clutch and rolled the truck forward.

===============================

At first, Teynea thought Wyan was rejecting her, seeing how her eyes flicked down to the pistol and then back up to the Veela’s own. She could sense the conflict, the sudden fear, the lurching horror at realising how close she had been to death without ever realising it. There was a morsel of denial, that she couldn’t have been about to die and not realised it. In the end, she listened to what she said through the pitter-patter of the rain, her voice clear over the incessant drips. She said nothing in reply but nodded determinedly. She knew what she was doing. She was going to go into the city and she was going to help as many people as she could. It was what she should have been doing in the Home Galaxy, with Avos, Elena and the others. She should have been helping those who could not help themselves. Now she was here. It was a strange twist of fate indeed. Well, now that she was in a warzone by herself, she would show Avos, the Imperii and Elena just what she could do.

Slipping into the car beside Wyan, impressed with the quantity of necessary items she had scavenged, Teynea took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It was a conscious effort to keep her hands from shaking. ’Remember your training,’ she told herself, ’All is as the universe wills it.’

Closing her eyes, she reached out towards the city to pinpoint a location. The mixture of feelings was nearly overwhelming but she concentrated, focusing her thoughts on one specific spot of panic and fear.
“I’ll direct you.”

===============================

After edging around the roadblock Wyan-Brigitte slowed at the top of the hill. The city of Fel’tethra was little more than a hazy gray mass before them, but even with such reduced visibility she could make out the scarlet flash of lancer fire and the orange glow of fires and explosions among the buildings. We’re about to drive right into a warzone, she thought. The idea failed to excite her like the typhoon had. Instead dread rose up inside of her as she watched the metropolis tear itself apart.

A moment later Teynea’s hand wrapped around her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. She was able to summon a smile for the Veela, giving a squeeze of her own back before letting go. Teynea wouldn’t let her come to harm if she could help it. Wyan focused on the road, watching for any obstructions as the four-by-four bounced down the incline and rolled through the last of the jungle. After an open clearing the dirt transitioned to a concrete road and they smoothly drove into the city.

All the buildings that rose up to either side were dark, businesses and homes alike shuttered and hunkered down for the storm. She maneuvered around a downed sign as her eyes scanned from one side to the other, looking for any sign of trouble. A white flash caught her attention and she saw the shape just long enough to figure out what it was: a white, green-speckled vixen, soaked and completely naked, visible for just seconds before she ducked into an alleyway just ahead. Wyan-Brigitte blinked. That was the last thing she’d been expecting to see.

The next thing she saw was worse. A truck not unlike their own skidded around the corner, fishtailing in the intersection as the group of hooded figures in the back held on for dear life, half a dozen Necrians clutching to the sides of the bed before the vehicle righted itself. It proceeded a little more slowly from there, creeping up the street until it stopped in front of the alleyway. None of the eight inside seemed to notice Wyan and Teynea’s vehicle, jumping out with lancers drawn as they converged on the alleyway with all the deadly coordination of pack hunters. Swallowing, Wyan glanced at Teynea.

===============================

As the truck made its way towards the city, the duo was silent in their seats. Partly because Wyan needed to concentrate at this speed and with visibility and partly because Teynea was fixed on their location and did not want to lose it in the swirl of feelings. An evil hung over the city and it made her shudder. It was not something she had ever felt before, death and the pleasure of it. She had been warned in her teachings that some feelings were stronger than others, either good or bad. The will to kill was one of the darkest feelings there was, the delight in taking another sentient being’s life. To actually feel it herself…and in such force…it actually made her teeth clench and her stomach lift. She clenched her fists until she saw Wyan’s own hand was unoccupied. Sensing the thoughts of her companion, she took her hand in her own and squeezed, as much for her own reassurance as anything. Wyan smiled at her and, for the first time, Teynea smiled tentatively back.

That dropped as soon as they entered the city. She could see the battle raging around her, the distant thud of explosions and the crackling of fire. Most of the buildings were boarded up and abandoned it seemed. She hoped they had gotten somewhere safe. No matter their politics, no one ever wished to be trapped in a warzone.

Though they were so close to their target it was still a surprise to see the green flash, which she was barely able to identify as a kitsune. What was more worrying was the truck that was chasing her, skidding in a wide arch as it drove into the alleyway the vixen had taken and came to a stop, unloading no fewer than six Necrians with weapons drawn. The heavy feeling surrounded them and she could sense the rising panic from within the alley. The vixen was trapped.

They had stopped, as much in surprise as anything and the half-breed looked at her. The Veela took another deep breath to steady herself and met the eyes of her companion.
“Wait here,” she said, opening the door, “Keep the engine running. I won’t be long.”

As she walked through the puddles towards the alley, she shrugged her shoulders and threw off her cloak to reveal the body-hugging armour in its full glory, silver and shimmering as if liquid, it cast a glow onto the nearby buildings as she stepped into the alleyway. Her hand went again to her belt and pulled away the hilt, filling with the same silvery fluid as her armour to form a long, solid blade with inscriptions in Veelic. With another breath to steady her nerves, she stepped into the alley.

First up was the truck which had been parked in such a way as to block most of the access. With a casual flick of her wrist, it took off into the air and back over her head into the street, crashing upside down in the middle of the tarmac. That got the attention of the eight and they turned to face her. They raised their weapon but with a single bound she leapt high into the clouds, dropping amongst the group with such force that the ground trembled beneath their feet. A clean sweep of her blade took out six of the Necrians in a single move at the end of which she threw up a hand to send the last three into the walls of the alley which a heavy crash. The entire clash had last less than thirty seconds.

With a quick check to make sure all eight were down, she stepped up to the vixen, water hissing as it ran over her armour, “Come with me, quick!” she gestured towards Wyan’s truck.

===============================

Kouzai stared at the Veela who had appeared like a bolt from the blue. One moment she had been sure that she was dead or worse, cornered at the end of the alley by the gang of thugs. The next their truck had gone flying and the Necrians had only started to turn in alarm when the lagomorph landed among them and cut half a dozen down with a single sweep of her blade. She was still holding her pistol limply when the last two crumpled to the ground, water dripping off the barrel as she watched Teynea check the dead. The smell of blood was strong in her nose as she looked beyond her savior to the waiting truck.

Not inclined to ask questions, Kouzai hurried forward. She pulled open the back passenger door and clambered over the pile of weapons and equipment there, falling sideways into the seat and yanking her tail in before shutting the door. Teynea was already in the passenger’s seat and the truck jumped forward, rolling past the carnage that had been the death squad and turning away down the street. Exhaling steadily, Kouzai leaned back and closed her eyes. The heated cabin and soft seat felt good on her bare fur, but none of it was as good as the sense of security that washed over her.

“Thank you,” she breathed out. “I’m trying to get back to my apartment. I have some stuff there that might help. Equipment that might let us listen in on things, help us figure out what the fuck is going on,” Kouzai opened her eyes. “Unless you know?” The note of hope in her voice made Wyan wince, and the halfbreed shook her head. She glanced at Teynea out of the corner of her eye. The Veela was the one in charge here.

===============================

The Veela waited impatiently for the vixen to dash past her, having been staring for a few long seconds. She walked behind, eyes scanning both ends of the street as she closed her eyes and reached out for others nearby. There were some but they were out of view and, though panicked, they were safe for now. She walked past her cloak, the thick material coming to her hand seemingly unbidden and she tossed it in the back of the 4-by-4 as Kouzai made herself as comfortable as she could given the clutter scattered across the back seat and floor. Only once she was in the seat did she shake her head from side to side, making her ears flop wildly and her hair flick. She rolled her shoulders, leaned back against the headrest and exhaled.

“I hate rain.” It was all but a whisper from her lips as she looked back to Kouzai. It was only now she saw how young she was. She inclined her head at the thanks but frowned at the rest. A quick glance found Wyan doing the same in turn, neither entirely sure what they should say.
“We don’t know exactly what has happened,” she answered slowly, “We were out the city. There are dark feelings throughout the city, feelings of dread and fear. The natives appear to have turned on the alien races, that much is clear. Whether it is at government level, I cannot say.” She dragged her tongue along her short muzzle, “Where is your apartment? Can you get us there without taking the main roads? They will be watching and this squad will soon be missed, as will the patrol we…passed…”

===============================

Wyan-Brigitte stared. She couldn't help herself: Teynea had worn her cloak the entire time she'd known her, so seeing her wearing armor was almost bizarre. It didn't help that it was nearly skintight and left little to the imagination. After a moment she shook her head, ears twitching as she turned in her seat to look back at the vixen. She watched her face, the vulpine's green eyes wide at Teynea's words.

"Uh, I think so," she said at last. "Fair warning though, it's near the government center and last I knew there was some shit going down over there, so we'll probably need to get out and walk once we get close. I'm Kouzai, by the way," she nodded as the other two made their own introductions. After that all was quiet save for occasional directions from their guide, each of them lost on her own thoughts as Wyan-Brigitte focused on driving and Kouzai leaned back and closed her eyes. In the rear view mirror she noticed the kitsune trembling, but there was nothing she could do.

An orange glow came from around one corner and she turned to find a van burning in the middle of the street. It was surrounded by bodies, twisted and blackened by lancer burns, and as much as she wanted to just speed by Wyan took her time in picking her way around the once-sapient wreckage. She was sure if she ran one over she'd vomit. At another intersection there had been a cordon of police vehicles, now a group of smoking husks surrounding a crater in the middle of the street. Wyan edged around those as well, trying to make sense of it all and failing. Throughout explosions reverberated over the city, mixing with the scream of lancer fire, the bellow of Imperial guns, and the constant hiss of the rain and rumble of thunder.

"Should probably get out here," Kouzai's voice was stronger than Wyan would have expected. The vixen faced her own white green-splotched visage in the window, eyes flicking one way and then the other along the empty street. "Can I use your robe? Thanks. It'll keep the rain off," she pulled Teynea's robe around her body.

"I'll stay here," Wyan glanced over at Teynea for her approval. "Two are stealthier than three, and I'll make sure nothing happens to the truck."

===============================

Teynea was very much aware of the staring from the driver of their vehicle but, as she had done all the other times she had caught her staring, she ignored it. She had nothing personally against the woman nor did she find the attention unwelcoming but now was simply not the time to address it. As to why she hadn’t addressed it when there had been time…what else would she have done but stare back? She had hardly been trained in the art of poetry…

That kept her thoughts busy as they travelled through the empty streets. She also noticed how the kitsune, Kouzai she had identified herself as, was trembling. That was likely to be the exertion of her running and the shock of what was happening now that the adrenaline was wearing off a little. She was tempted to reach out and try to ease some of her pain, some of her fear, some of her worries but that had never been her strongest skill. Her sister was incredible at it, able to bring the angriest of people to serene calm with nothing but a smile and a few gentle words. She had never mastered the smiling…or the gentle words.

That kept her occupied as they passed the debris of war. Though it annoyed her that Wyan slowed down to navigate her way around the remains of the casualties, she was glad she did. The Veela kept her eyes closed as they drove, giving the appearance of calm but really trying to spare herself the true horrors of what war could do. It was the same with the roadblock only here they stopped. Even over the howling winds and hissing rain it was possible to hear the crackle of gunfire and the boom of explosions. Even as Kouzai explained the plan, the woman tensed and hesitated. The fighting was thickest up ahead and she could do some good there. She was sure of it. They’d never see her coming from behind them. Her hand went to her belt and the handle there. Could she really kill them all? How many were there? She relaxed against the seat with a sigh. It would be madness to even try. Much as she wanted to, she needed to stay with Wyan and Kouzai. They needed her more than the army did. The grabbing of her cloak by the vixen was met only with a nod. She was already wet as is so she hardly needed the thick, soft, warm garment.

Turning to the driver now though, Teynea looked her up and down and pursed her lips before slowly shaking her head, “We can park the truck. I don’t want us splitting up. Not so close to the fighting,” she nodded her head down the road, “If one of those squads drive by…” she paused a moment, “No…it is better if we stick together…”

===============================

After a moment of hesitation Wyan nodded. "Okay," she said, not inclined to argue with the Veela who had torn through a dozen people like they were nothing. Turning again, she reached into the back seat and picked up the holstered pistol Teynea had found for her. After strapping it to her thigh she parked in an alley and turned the key to shut the truck down. "I'll bring up the rear."

With Teynea out in front they braved through the lashing rain to hurry down a side street. Visibility had dropped to almost nothing, plywood-boarded windows and dripping facades looming out of the darkness as the trio walked. The sound of detonations and weapons fire seemed ubiquitous, but none of it was close enough to be in their immediate area. They turned down another alley and immediately slowed as Kouzai gingerly picked her way over the debris on the ground, taking care to avoid broken glass and bits of concrete with her bare paws. It was only when they were at the end of the alley that each realized the extent of the devastation.

Half of the street beyond was simply gone, terminating into the slope of an enormous crater that stretched away into the gloom. The rim was lined with fire, debris still burning along the edges while more smoldered in the bottom of the hole where the government center had once stood. When Wyan looked up the street she found the wreck of a militia Scarab teetering on the edge of the crater. "Imperials fuck me in a three-way," Kouzai whispered, verdant eyes wide again. After a beat they slowly began moving again, skirting along the rim of the crater and up the street.

The door to Kouzai's apartment building had been blown off its hinges and was lying in a puddle of water in the entry hall. The vixen stepped over it, pistol drawn and the cloak hanging from her shoulders as she scanned one way and then the other. There was no one waiting for them. Going around the staircase, she led them down a back hallway, passing by a number of doors on the way. Hers was on the end, still ajar from when the cops had burst in to arrest her.

Kouzai's apartment was small, and seemed even smaller due to the clutter. Desks, a couch, tables, footrest, a mini-fridge, and bed were all jammed together but even with all the surfaces there was hardly any clear space. Forests of empty bottles were dotted with clearings occupied by ash trays, used-up lighters abounded, and the air smelled of old smoke, hot dust, and lilacs. The pride of place for it all was a trio of monitors on one desk, and Kouzai made a beeline for them. Moving a hookah aside, she woke the displays up to cast pale blue light across the room.
"Digital Assistant, recognize administrator voice command: unlock," she said, leaning over the central monitor. It scanned her face and retinas invisibly, checking against security protocols before the saucer-shaped pad next to the monitor came to life. Standing on it was a tiny blue vixen only about six inches high. She was nude save for a collar featuring an off switch, control panels mounted on each wrist, and a segment in her upper thigh that featured a headphone jack. Her bushy tail ended in a flash drive.

"Warning! Insufficient authorization provided. Prior intrusion attempt detected. Require verbal authentication of passcode," the little vixen's tail swished. "Please verbally authenticate your passcode."

Kouzai sighed. "Digital Assistant, recognize administrator voice command: administrative override of standard security protocols. Passcode is," she rattled off a long string of seemingly random letters and numbers, going too quickly for Wyan to follow. The holographic vixen waited patiently, arms folded over her chest. When Kouzai finished she beamed at her and her body flashed green.

"Success! Administrator voice command: override is recognized. Welcome, F1_1ckingGenius33245." Kouzai cringed a little, but Wyan was too busy staring at her little helper.

"What in the universe is that?"

"Attention! This virtual intelligence is Digital Assistant Personal and Protective Elevated Root 06-3-30, a product of the Holographic/Virtual Entertainment Corporation. This unit has been renamed 'DAP' by its administrator."

"Yeah, yeah," Kouzai waved a hand through DAP's holographic body to get her attention. "Listen, DAP, I need you to dump all of my files onto my external hard drive, then purge the system. While you're at it, see if you can't get online and find out what the fuck is happening out there. Do a full-spectrum search, but be careful, I don't want anyone tracing your signal to us."

"Error! Wireless and grounded networks are offline. This unit detects major outages throughout the metropolitan area. Files are being backed up. Estimated time to completion: five minutes, sixteen seconds."
"Oh, fuck me," Kouzai sighed. "Well, keep looking. Any signal you can detect and intercept, I want to know about it." Turning away, she shrugged out of Teynea's cloak and draped it over the back of a chair before digging into her closet. With a backpack in hand she started to throw things into it: a change of clothes, a tablet with portable battery, a carton of marijuana cigarettes, DAP's saucer (though the vixen simply settled onto the desk), a half-empty bag of crackers, a thermos, and more. After emptying the contents of a safe into it as well she went into the bathroom, sweeping rows of toiletries in with the rest.

"Attention! This unit has isolated a channel of relevance," DAP announced. "The type is a cellular signal located in two points inside the metropolitan area. Would you like the audio?"

"Play the audio," Kouzai called from the bathroom.

"...is not going as well as we expected," a cold female voice entered the room. "Your unit is to disengage from purge operations and regroup at the second rendezvous point. Your fighters will support my troops in containing the Imperials at the joint base. Indicate your compliance."

"We haven't even made it a quarter of the way down the list!" a rougher male voice protested. "I thought the way it was supposed to work is that your guys would handle the Imperials, and we would kill the scum. Now you need our help?"

"Your battalions were organized to support militia and police operations, Talon Master," the woman's tone became sharper. "Are you capable of fulfilling your obligations, or was the support of the Solar Imperium wasted on you?"

The man made the snarl-hiss noise characteristic of an angered Necrian. "I can move my fighters, but it'll take some time. They've had to deal with a lot of firefights, the damned foxes all have guns and we don't have enough vehicles to transport all the casualties. We don't have enough medics either. If you could detach some of yours we could-"

"I don't care about your problems, Talon Master. I have my own, and they are more important. We need only hold out for four more hours until the fleet arrives, and to do that I need to put more pressure on the Imperials. Move your fighters, now, or we risk everything, including the lives of every single one of your men and women. If that brigade breaks out its soldiers will not be merciful. Out."
The line disconnected. By then Kouzai had thrown another set of clothes on and had her backpack over one shoulder. "Everything's erased?" she asked DAP. "Good." Kneeling down, she opened up the back of the computer tower, pressed her lancer to it, and squeezed the trigger to scarlet flashes and the shriek of the weapon firing. The smell of burning plastic and metal suffused the room as she stood. "They won't get shit out of that," she couldn't hide her satisfaction as DAP scaled her body and her drive imitated plugging itself into the neural port at the base of the vixen's neck. "Well, I'm ready when you guys are."

Wyan-Brigitte was looking at Teynea, her thick, finned tail swishing slowly as she thought about the conversation they'd heard. "What are we going to do?" She forced herself to inhale, to breathe. It was harder than she would have expected. She had never been on a hostile world that was about to be invaded before.

===============================

Teynea had only seen the government complex of the city once, as she had passed through on her way to Tamarow and she had not really taken stock of it on the journey. Only now when it was in ruins did she appreciate the devastation, much of what had been there simply flattened or vaporised out of existence. She wondered how many of the people who had been inside had managed to escape. Her shoulders sagged as she realised she didn’t really want an answer to her own question. So they pressed on, Kouzai stepping delicately around the broken shards on the ground, difficult to do when they blended so well into the rain-splattered ground, whereas she and Wyan were happy enough just to step over the top of them. She never once stopped scanning the street, the buildings and the sky for any signs of incoming danger but they were not accosted as they entered the kitsune’s home.

The Veela wrinkled her nose at the smell, a distinctly…unique scent that the green and white female paid no attention to and so she did herself best to ignore. The appearance of DAP, on the other, did bring some interest as she took in the miniature female, nose twitching instinctively as she tried to work out if she had a scent or not. The message she managed to intercept brought a scowl to her fair, snowy features. There were more squads out there, killing the innocent and defenceless at will. She checked out the window as if expecting to see it happen, but then she didn’t need to, because she could feel them throughout the city, standing out to her as if they were lighthouses in this storm, her hand twitched down to her weapon.

It took Wyan asking her question for Teynea to snap out of her reverie. She looked between the two; Kouzai with her stolen lancer and Wyan with the police-issue pistol and rifle and she hesitated. They were capable, she had no doubt of that but she had promised to look after them. She should stay and hold to her promise…but the feelings of terror coming from deeper inside the city were clawing at her mind, poking her for a reaction. She had to do something for them! Anything! She had to make the effort!

“You two stay here,” She closed her eyes for a moment and reached out as far as she could, “There’s no danger nearby. I can sense someone in trouble though, another death squad. I have to go see if I can help.” She turned for the door, “if I’m not back in an hour…” She stopped. She had no idea what else she could say at the end of the sentence. What else was there to do? “Try to get out of the city. It should be safer in the forests.” She didn’t know if that was really true but it sounded like it made sense. “I’ll be back soon.”

===============================

“Wait!” Kouzai stepped forward, hand half-out to Teynea. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I was, uh, arrested earlier, and once the cops figure out that I’ve escaped they’ll probably come back here looking for me. We can’t stay here. Maybe you could at least escort us to the jungle?” she gave her a weak smile. “Please?”

“That seems like a good idea,” Wyan said after a moment. She glanced at Teynea, wondering if she should say what was on her mind: that if Teynea went looking for death, it would eventually find her. And I don’t want her to die, no matter how noble the sentiment. The thought surprised her, but she still didn’t articulate it, unsure of how to say it or even how Teynea would react. What could she possibly say? Turn her back on these people for Wyan’s sake? The travel writer sighed.
There were no good answers.
---

No, not like this, Goddess…
Goddess?

Blood Sworn Knight Xan Mortu raised his head. He was lying where he’d fallen in the main hallway of the ambassadorial apartments, struck down almost before he’d even known what was happening. The helpless, paralyzing feeling had overtaken him in seconds, and the last thing he’d remembered was seeing his fellow Knight Mari collapse, choking and convulsing. The woman was lying still now, and he knew without even needing to get close that she was dead.
But he wasn’t.

I was spared the poison, he realized as he slowly climbed to his feet. There was no doubt that’s what it had been, administered such that they didn’t even realize it until too late. But the Goddess had seen fit to release him from her sweet embrace, and the revelation had him falling back onto one knee in supplication to Her awesome power. Thank you, my Dark Lady. Whatever you would have of me, I will do.

Yet exactly what he was supposed to do wasn’t clear. The diplomatic party was gone, as was his Commander and fellows. Even now he knew that the revolt would be rocking the city, and he knew that it was his duty to join them. But She must have brought him back for some specific purpose. He stretched out with his psionics, and found it.

Xan smiled behind his almost featureless helmet. It was fitting that She would use that to show him the way. The other psionic presence stood out almost blindingly, so close, so strong, and so very much non-Necrian. A blight upon this city of his people, his Goddess, and in not too long now, his nation. The Necrian picked up his hard-light lance and checked to make sure his pistol was still at his side.

He could feel the weakness dragging his limbs down, the effects of the poison weighing on him, but his Goddess would not be denied. Whatever this other power was, Xan was confident. He was a Blood Sworn Knight from the personal guard of the Empress herself, the elite of the elite. He would no more be denied than his Goddess would. With lance in hand he stepped out of the apartments and surveyed the street beyond.

It seemed darker now, and after a moment he realized that the power had been cut. There was just him and the storm as it spent its fury on the corpses outside, and he let the other psionic presence guide him down the road. He cast a glance down into the crater that had been the government center and wondered if the other two Sworn were buried beneath it all. It didn’t matter. If they were dead then they were with the Goddess now.

Stopping outside of the building where he felt the alien force, Xan planted his feet and steeled himself. The other would surely sense him, and if they weren’t a coward then they would confront him. He held his lance as a staff, a weapon that would burn and crush on contact once he landed a blow. Inhaling, he uttered a silent prayer to Necrisis for victory, offering up his soul to Her if he found defeat instead.
He was ready.
R.I.P. Shal
17/01/2010

R.I.P. Peg
04/06/2018

R.I.P Tweek
16/12/2021

R.I.P Xena
11/02/2022

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Alversia
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Posts: 3240
Founded: Apr 26, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Alversia » Sat Dec 24, 2016 5:53 am

(OOC: Part Two)

Teynea stopped in mid-stride at Kouzai’s exclamation, half-turning to the vixen to see her reaching out with a pleading look in her eyes. She looked to Wyan as she too offered her opinion on the matter. She looked at the half-breed a little longer than she had at the kitsune, expression unreadable but with a fresh hesitancy that hadn’t been there before. Bright eyes flicked between the two as the debate raged anew in her mind before she finally gave a slow, single nod.
“Okay,” she exhaled, taking her hand off her belt, “Okay, we’ll go to the edge of the city but then I will need to return and-“

She stopped herself, head jerking up at something unseen and unheard but consuming the entirety of her attention. Her nose twitched at the phantom presence, frowning deeply as her hand dropped back to her weapon, clenching around the hilt. She looked between the two females, the hesitancy gone.
“I’ve got to go,” She told them, tone firm and with a look that cut off any attempts at an argument, “There’s something out there. Something…different. Something wrong.” She closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, “It’s calling to me. It wants me to face it. If I don’t…” Her eyes flung open, “…then it will join the fight…and it will kill…” she exhaled deeply as she strode towards the door, cloak flying into her hands, “I will not be long. Keep the door locked.” She closed it behind her with a snap.

As the Veela went down the stairs, she pulled her cloak over herself again. It smelt faintly of kitsune as she arranged it over her shoulders so the damp attire hung properly from her slight frame. With a look up at the clouds and a sigh she pulled the hood over her head and stepped out.

She made her way through the streets, following the beacon that was this strange presence with ease. It didn’t take long to find it, coming out of a side-street to find the dark figure at the opposite end of the dual carriage way. She walked out into the middle of the road so she was facing directly opposite him, taking her sword from her belt and, shrugging off her cloak to reveal her armour, letting it ignite. It hissed softly as droplets hit the silvery blade and she regarded her opponent at the opposite end of the street.

She glanced to the side where a burnt out car sat on its roof. As if made of paper it was tossed into the air towards her foe, the black shape that she hoped to finish quickly so she could get back to Wyan and Kouzai.

===============================

Kouzai and Wyan exchanged looks at Teynea's words but neither said anything. Neither knew what to say. After the door shut Kouzai turned to her companion. "Either way, we shouldn't stay here," she said. "I say we follow her, see what's going on. We'll be that much closer for when she's ready to go. Right?"

Wyan frowned at the vixen but couldn't deny the logic in not being around when the police showed up. "From a distance," she amended. "We're not taking any risks." With a nod secure from Kouzai they left the apartment, Wyan leading the way until they reached the still-open door of the apartment building. From the front hall the two stared out into the storm and what they could see of the two dark figures beyond.

Teynea hadn't needed to go far at all. Xan had been waiting for her just outside, lance grasped in both hands. The rainwater dripped off his statuesque form as he watched her size him up. His eyes followed the curve of her blade and the contours of her armor as she readied herself, not begrudging his opponent the opportunity. He had never faced a Veela in combat before -as far as he knew no Necrian had. If he had his way, he'd be the first to kill one of the fabled lagomorphs.

The car went hurtling at him and he stopped it with an outstretched hand, not even deigning to look at the makeshift missile. With his blank helmet gazing into her face he clenched his fist and the vehicle disintegrated, becoming only so much soot and rust that melted and blew away in the wind and rain. Then he charged in, going from still to sprinting in the blink of an eye and closing the distance almost as quickly. His lance twirled and he brought it around in an arc to the right where it would crack into her hip if she wasn't quick enough to intercept it. She did, but the attack was little more than a test of her reflexes and strength, and as they clashed he found neither was lacking.
But it would not be enough to save her.

At such close range she had less time to react, even with her speed. He focused his energy into a blast, seeking to hurl her back against the building's wall.

===============================

The car had been a test and she was not surprised that he was able to so casually dismiss it even if his ability to disintegrate it did cause her to raise an eyebrow. It was not a simple skill to pull items apart at the atomic level. Her grip tightened on her weapon as she waited for whatever the figure would do. She assumed he was human but she could not be sure, not when his helmet had blocked out most of his features.

The move he made was far quicker than she would have expected, moving from stationary to beside her in the blink of an eye, swinging the long staff of light he was carrying at her side. Her blade met his just in time to parry, the conflicting energies sending a flash through the street like lightning. Each pressed the attack, her channelling her strength into her arms as she had been taught to counter his natural advantage. She was entirely unprepared for the strike and before she knew it, she was flying backwards. The Veela hit the wall with a heavy thud, a pained cry escaping her short muzzle as she fell to the ground in a cloud of shattered bricks. The young warrior struggled to her feet as he was on her in a flash, a flurry of blows that she barely managed to deflect each time. As he pushed her back, she reached out. The power cables above them had been torn and it was these she sent at him, lashing and hissing like wrathful snakes in a wave, her countering his efforts to disintegrate them this time. As he dealt with them, she leapt high into the air, rolling in the air so she landed on her feet further down the street, eyes narrowed, ignoring the dull ache between her shoulders.

===============================

Xan's confidence only grew at the Veela slammed into the wall and yelled out at the impact. This one was not so experienced. But he was a veteran of the civil war, and it showed as he pressed his advantage, keeping her backed up against the wall and on the defensive as she desperately blocked his strikes. Just when he thought that this would be over quickly the sparking cables fell and he twisted away, trying to gain control over the live wires even as she jumped away. He batted one cable aside and hissed in pain as the other glanced off his shoulder, his armor keeping him protected from the worst of it.

But her gambit had freed her from his trap. He respected that cunning; might she be as devious as the foxes? He smiled at the thought and wondered if she could sense it. Holding his lance up as she stared at him, he gave her a brief salute. Then Xan was on her again, launching himself forward off the pavement like a missile with a burst of psionic energy to crash into her. He kept the strike brief, taking any hit he could get before rebounding back to his original position to land lightly on his feet at the edge of the crater.

He was already starting to get tired, the aftereffects of the poison doing him no favors, but he kept himself focused on combat. If he let himself slow then he would surely die. Shifting his stance, Xan settled into a defensive posture. He would conserve his energy and let her come to him. If she was as much a neophyte as he thought then she would be careless and overextend herself, not so much defeated by him as much as by her own mistakes.
Then he would finish her.

===============================

The window she was given by her ploy was enough to let her refocus herself, having momentarily lost her concentration in the aftermath of his first attack. She could feel it from him, the respect but also the sense of confidence that flowed through him. He did not fear her any longer, if he ever had beforehand and he gave her salute with his staff. Her only response was a curt nod, habit as much as anything as she settled into her defensive posture. What she was not expecting was for him to fly straight at her as if fired from a cannon and to strike with her bodily. The strike knocked the window from her lungs as she hissed in pain, her counter-blow comparatively clumsy as he dodged out of view. That was not a move she had ever countered in her training. It should have been suicide to attack so brazenly. It would have been if she had been prepared for it. Was he toying with her?

The Necrian had gone into a defensive pose and she approached slowly, her blade in both hands in a protective stance as she kept narrowed eyes focused on him. What was his plan? He had to know by now how effective his striking had been. He had to be luring her into a trap. He had to be.

Without breaking her gaze, she swept a hand across the street. A thousand bricks of the government centre careened for him like a swarm of stirred wasps. Using their attack as cover, she leapt in with quick strikes, feinting one way then changing her axis of attack, keeping herself on the move so she always faced him but forcing him to readjust. She aimed for the weak-points she saw, trying to guess where he would block and counter his counter.

===============================

Xan watched her watch him. As his confidence rose her own was falling. He could sense it as clearly as if it were spelled out on her short muzzle. So she kept her advance subdued, vigilant for any more trickery. The Sworn let her come.

The bricks he was not expecting after he had so easily dealt with the car. The first sailed past his head and he ducked reflexively, only to stagger back as he barely caught her blade on his lance. Another slammed into his side and Xan edged to the side, feet dancing nimbly along the rim of the crater as she sought to keep him backed up against the pit. He saw the determination in her eyes, the hunger to strike a blow of her own, and he knew what he had to do. As the bricks swirled around them he lifted his staff high in both hands.

It was an obvious opening -too obvious. She hesitated, suspecting a trick, but the flying debris did not. Pieces of masonry smashed against him but Xan kept himself rooted, letting the missiles break themselves on his body and welcoming the pain that let him know that he was still alive. Psychic energy gathered all at once and he gritted his teeth as he slammed his staff into the ground, unleashing a psionic shock wave that shattered the bricks and would hit the Veela like a truck if she wasn't ready for it.

===============================

She had him on the ropes. That was how it appeared as he struggled to block her attacks as pieces of masonry struck his unprotected body. The effort of both fighting him, keeping her concentration and directing the brickwork was sapping her energy quickly but she persevered. Surely she had to be close to wearing him down! Their fight was like a choreographed routine such were the speed of their attacks and their counters. She was not backing him in as much as she would have wanted though, his footwork was far too good, able to keep up with her as she moved around. More and more of her projectiles struck his body, his shoulders, his hips. All she needed was to distract him long enough to get that killer blow, that final coup de grace. Even now, she refused to entertain the idea of retreat even though her energy was dwindling and her concentration growing looser and looser. She was so close to finishing him!

He raised his hands above his head.

The Veela took a half-step back, blade raised protectively in front of her. She continued her psionic attack but the unexpected move had her on the defensive. What in the eternal light was he doing? He was just allowing himself to be pummelled but still he did not move. A clean swipe across the midriff with her weapon and this fight would be over. As easy as that? It couldn’t be! Not after everything he’d done!

The wave hit her with the force of a freight train. It knocked the air from her lungs and the strength from her limbs as she once again found herself sailing through the air. Her vision was filled with grey sky then shining ground then grey sky as she tumbled and twisted, powerless to protect herself. She landed heavily on her shoulder with a scream of pain, fingers springing open of their own accord as her blade popped free and landed nearby, nothing more than a finely carved hilt. She bounced a few more times for good measure, each hitting her shoulders and hips especially hard, head snapping this way and that. When she finally came to a stop she found herself unable to get up, one shoulder simply not responding and the other too weak to do it alone. Any attempt to channel her powers met with a terrifying emptiness and a sharp pain in her skull. Water soaked into her front where she lay in the puddle, the pool gradually turning red as the rain washed blood from her forehead like a horrifying waterfall. Shivering from cold and fear as she looked up at her foe, her numbed mind tried to think of something, anything, that could save her.

===============================

His head had been bowed so Xan never saw the Veela's flight. He knew that she had taken the full brunt of his attack though, so his eyes instantly found her crumpled in a bloody puddle when he looked up. She hadn't even kept control of her sword, he noted as he lifted his lance and began to walk towards her. In another man her trembling and wide eyes might have elicited mercy, and he did feel a stab of pity for the young lagomorph, but he would not be swayed from his duty. He spoke as he advanced, letting her hear his voice for the first time.

"Mother, I commit this soul to your embrace. Lady, I offer this sacrifice to your glory. Darkness, I send another to your void. Goddess, I lay this warrior upon your altar," his voice was steady as he recited the prayer he knew by heart. He didn't need to say it aloud, but perhaps knowing that she would not be alone in the afterlife would bring this one some comfort. "Necrisis, accept my conquest for you."
He raised his lance.

Wyan inhaled. She'd been tempted to run more than once, just grab Kouzai, make for the truck, and flee for the jungle. Teynea wouldn't blame them, she knew, for it was what she'd wanted them to do from the beginning. But she hadn't been able to make herself abandon the Veela who had saved her life. At the same time she had nothing to contribute to the fight, so she had only watched in awe as Teynea and her black-armored foe clashed repeatedly in the broken, rain-washed street. Then the Necrian threw Teynea, and he was standing over her, ready for the final blow.

She lifted her pistol and lined it up on his back. She had experience shooting, but she was no soldier. Another inhale, hold, and she squeezed the trigger. The blast burned into his back and she watched him stagger, smoke rising from the wound, but he did not fall. As he turned she fired again, only for the bolt to go speeding back past her head. Yelping, she ducked back, Kouzai scrambling behind her as they gained the warrior's full attention.

Xan hissed as he stepped forward, enraged that he had been so caught off-guard. If it had been a heavier weapon or a more accurate shooter he would have been dead before he knew what hit him. He would not make the mistake again. Lance in hand, he strode inexorably for the door to the apartment building and the pair cowering inside. First he would deal with the pests, then he would give the Veela the mercy she deserved.

===============================

She watched him approach, the cold fear clenching her heart until she was sure she couldn’t breath. The urge to say something was overwhelming, to beg, to try anything to give her a few more seconds of precious life but no words would come from her leaden mind. Amongst the terror was a sense of injustice so raw that she wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair! She had made so many mistakes in their duel, so many stupid childish errors! Not once in her training had she done anything like that before but now, in her first proper fight with a psionic being it was going to get her killed. Even thinking of the word made her choke. The image of her sister and her home floated into her mind and she found she couldn’t keep tears from rolling down her cheeks. She was never going to see Elena again. How would she react when she found out? Would the Imperii regret not sending her to Setulan? He was towering over her now, saying something that just faded into white noise as far as she was concerned. The raindrops were striking her face, washing away her tears as she tried to steel herself. If she was going to die then she would do it with dignity but she could not keep herself from shaking. He raised his staff and she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see it coming.

He turned away.

Her eyes flew open as the sound of a shot filled the street. Her first thought was it had to be soldiers. Who else would be in the open on a night like this? Then she caught sight of a thick, finned tail whipping around the corner as her attacker turned to look. No! Not them! The black figure took a step away from her and, her veins flooding with a fear of what he would do once he caught up to Wyan, she struck. Her blade flew into her hand, reigniting as she pushed herself off with an impossible reserve of strength and she struck. It should have been a killing blow, maybe on another day it would have been, but her strength abandoned her at the critical moment so the power in the blade vanished just as she made contact. It passed through his armour with ease, passing through flesh and bone as she cut deep into his side and out the front, cauterising the wound as it passed through.

With nothing left for another attack she stood and faced him, knees weak and head spinning, blood still pouring down her forehead where she had been cut and from her mouth where she was sure there was internal bleeding. Her blade was by her side. She could not even lift it. With her final ounce of power she pushed a hand weakly forward and watched as he hurtled through the air and out of sight beyond the ruined government centre.

In the deafening silence that followed, Teynea looked towards the spot where Wyan had fired. She looked the epitome of hell. The world lurched sickeningly sideways and her knees finally gave out. She collapsed hard onto the ground, blade falling away and deactivating as she lay on the tarmac, struggling to breath.

===============================

Xan sensed what was happening a moment before it did. The flash of warning was just enough for him to twist again, reacting instinctively to throw off the blow's placement. Her blade slipped into him with the smell of burning skin and hair, drawing no noise from him even as he staggered and the pain shot through him before his psionics quelled the feeling. The Sworn went to turn, lance ready, but as soon as he tried to pivot his insides heaved and he fell onto one knee. As he gasped for breath he realized that she had completely destroyed one of his lungs, with only his cybernetics still keeping him conscious and alive.

His guts writhed again and when he vomited he tasted blood mixed with acid in his mouth. Xan forced himself to swallow it, a shudder going through him as he turned his head. He had been expecting his last sight to be another flash of her blade as she severed his head from his body, but she was just standing there, swaying, soaked, and bloody. The Knight's lip curled. If she wouldn't end this then he would-

He was never able to gather the energy. The last of her strength was enough to throw him, and Xan found himself falling over the lip of the crater and into the smoky, rain-filled muck below. He splashed into the muddy pool and rolled over, trying to keep his bleeding side and abdomen out of the filth. For a time he lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness as the battle went on around him. At one point he realized that for all his training, experience, equipment, and preparation for this mission, he hadn't even been able to kill a single enemy of the Imperium, and the notion drew a soft, bitter laugh from him that his abused body repaid him for with pain.

At long last he took stock of his surroundings and began to crawl. It was all he had the capability for with his blood draining and even his augments and cybernetics struggling to keep him breathing. Fortunately his destination was close, little more than a fallen grid of girders that would provide some small protection from the rain and prying eyes. Dragging himself the final few meters, Xan rolled back onto his back, exhaled, and closed his eyes. This would be as far as he went. If the Goddess took him now then he would be ashamed, but it was Her choice to make. She had spared him once; only She would decide whether he was worthy of another chance.

----

Wyan swore in her head. She was doing her best to point her pistol squarely at the front door but she was shaking so badly that the muzzle was making little circles in the air, wavering before the dim outline that was the outside. Her ears perked to their highest extent as she listened for the Necrian's footsteps, only for the meaty sound of metal entering flesh to reach her. As the smell of singed hair reached her she stepped forward, weapon still raised, and when she peered out into the street the man was gone. Only Teynea remained. The Veela promptly crumpled to the ground again.

"Teynea!" Wyan took a step forward before looking back over her shoulder. "Kouzai! Go back to the truck, there's a first aid kit in the backseat! We'll be in your apartment! Go!" After a moment the vixen spun around and ran, and Wyan turned back to her wounded friend. "I've got you," she fell to her knees beside the Veela, eyes running over her as she visually scanned for injuries. She didn't know a lot about first aid, but she knew enough to recognize that Teynea was in a bad way.

"I'm going to get you inside," she told her. "Kouzai's going for the medkit. You just have to stay conscious, Teynea. Don't close your eyes. Focus on me."

"My...my sword..."

"I'll get it," Wyan promised even if she couldn't care less about the weapon next to its owner. Working her arms in under Teynea's body, she picked her up with one supporting her back and the other under her knees, the Veela's two floppy ears dangling as Wyan held her close and hunched over to protect her from the rain. She was somehow lighter than she'd expected. Whenever she looked at Teynea's bloody, broken, agonized face it made her insides twist, but she forced herself not to look away: Teynea needed to concentrate on her, which meant looking her in the eye and talking to her. "You saved our lives again," she told her as she carried her through the doorway. "Thank you. But that means you don't get to die until I get to repay you. Okay? You're not allowed to die. I forbid it," she gave her a weak smile.

At Kouzai's bed she leaned down and settled Teynea onto it. "Just keep still," she pulled the bloody, waterlogged cloak away, laying it over a chair before she reached back again. "I'm going to have to take off your armor to check for wounds," she told her, doing her best not to wince at how it sounded. "I think you might be bleeding internally. Okay?"

She began to pull at the straps and clasps of the armor, slowly and uncertainly figuring her way around to slipping it off Teynea. Yet when she finally had it all away there was nothing salacious about what she found underneath. There were darkening bruises all over her lovely white fur and when Wyan probed along her slight side she felt the telltale protrusions of broken ribs poking against the skin. One shoulder looked dislocated as well. The blood trickling down her snout and the way her fur and hair was wet and matted didn't help either. For a moment Wyan stared at her. Teynea looked so small and vulnerable, and yet she had seemed so unstoppable before. For the first time she wondered how old the lagomorph was. She looked like she could be her own age. Was she?

The writer shook her head. It didn't matter. "Here," Wyan pulled the blanket over Teynea's naked body. "Can't have you catching cold on top of everything else." At that moment Kouzai returned, panting with her tongue hanging out as she handed across the medical kit. Giving the vixen a nod as she collapsed into a chair, Wyan turned back and opened it up to pull out a handheld scanner. Pulling back the sheet again, she slowly ran it over Teynea's body, doing her side and getting her to slowly roll over so she could examine her back as well before allowing her to lie flat again.

“You’re doing great Teynea. Just stay with me here. Here,” she dug out a couple painkillers. “Don’t raise your head. Just lie back, here,” Wyan gently pressed one pill past her lips, waited for her to swallow, then gave her the second. “We’re doing good here.”

But the diagnoses made her bite her lip. Teynea was badly bruised and had suffered multiple lacerations including a particularly bad cut to her forehead, but that was the least of it. She had suffered two broken ribs, including one that seemed to have damaged one of her lungs, a hip fracture, and a dislocated shoulder, all of which were well beyond the capacity of the medkit to treat quickly. A stimpack would help heal her lung and the old Necrian liquid bio-gauze would help with the cuts and bruises, but there was little she could do about cracked and broken bones. As she started to lay out the stimpack and the gauze she realized that this was the best she’d be able to do.

“Well, I don’t think your life is in danger as long as can keep you warm and treated,” she said, though she only felt a little relief. They still had part of a warzone between them and the safety of the jungle, and their most capable person was in no condition to help any more than she already had. “You have two broken ribs, a crack in your right hip, and your right shoulder is dislocated. I don’t think you should move much for a while,” she hesitated, still watching Teynea. “How are you feeling now? Can I get you anything?”

===============================

She had no idea how long she lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness, only aware of the rain and the growing puddle of water around her. The Veela was still waiting for the black figure to finish her off, not truly convinced she’d seen him off. She couldn’t have done. Not in her condition. Her head was swimming, thoughts coming and going without her ever really knowing them, refusing to take hold, her mind isolated, her senses dulled. As time stretched on for seconds or hours, she could never truly tell, a presence came close and stood over here and she just waited to be finished. Instead, she was lifted and suddenly the world exploded into a blinding pain, a torment that was only manifested by a tensing of muscles and a ragged gasp from her lips. Her head lolled as she was carried, the only words she managed, “My…my blade…” her voice was weak, strained, not even a whisper. She couldn’t leave it! It was hers! It was the only thing that mattered! She tried to reach for it but she couldn’t. She could just make out the sight of Wyan, a shadow in the fog apart from her eyes. They were the brightest she had ever seen and she was fixated on them.

Something soft touched her back, making her gulp as pain flooded her system, breathing ragged and uneven. Her looked up to Wyan with hazy eyes, caught in the hellish paradox of uncontrollable trembling from shock and cold but with each tremor sending stabs through her slight frame. Hands worked at her body, pulling her cloak away and then at her armour. The silver-coloured armour melted away in the Half-breeds hands like wet paper before fading from view. Her own nudity did not even register in her mind any more the blanket going over her did even though it elicited a hiss from her, escaping through clenched teeth, trails shining down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut.

That was, until she was rolled over by Wyan running the scanner. The act of moving her brought a loud whimper from the female, eyes squeezed shut as she felt bones grinding, muscles straining, fiery hot pain rushing through her shaking body.
“Ow,” she moaned weakly, “Ow, ow, ow,” she trailed away broken sobs as fresh tears formed unbidden in the corners of her eyes.

She took the pills gratefully though it was a task unlike any other to swallow, praying to anything and everything that they would start working soon. The diagnosis of her injuries did not help but the fact she was able to hear them at all was a positive sign. Teynea looked into the writer’s eyes and answered in a wheezy voice,
“Please don’t go.”

===============================

"I'm not going anywhere," Wyan said instantly. She reached out and squeezed Teynea's hand, remembering the gesture she had made in the truck and silently grateful that the Veela's hands hadn't really been damaged. "I'm going to be right here for you as much as I can be, alright? We'll make sure you get better. I promise."

A little choked-up, she busied herself with the stimpack. Seeing Teynea cry because of what she was doing made her flinch, but she had to tell herself that it was for her own good. A little pain now would prevent a lot more later. "A small pinch," she said in warning as she turned Teynea’s hand over to present her wrist. After finding the vein she inserted it, depressing the syringe to pump in the healing mixture of reconstructive nanites and friendly bacteria to promote faster repair. “There,” she pulled it back and picked up the bio-gauze. “That should help a bit.”

Peeling back the blanket once again, she started to pull out strips of bio-gauze. The stuff had a wet, adhesive side that she gently pushed against the deep bruises and cuts that covered Teynea’s body, sealing the wounds and focusing its combined antiseptic and painkilling properties. She hated the feeling of the lagomorph trembling at her touch, hurting and exposed, but she forced herself to slow down so her motions were still gentle. “You’re very brave,” she told her as she pushed Teynea’s soaked fringe of hair back to apply gauze to the cut on her forehead. “Thank you for being so brave,” Wyan gave her a small smile.

===============================

Teynea looked into Wyan’s eyes as she promised she wouldn’t leave and took her hand in her own. She kept looking, if only because her face was about now the comforting thing in the whole universe and she squeezed back weakly, no better than the grip of a child. The eye contact was kept right up until she saw the needle and that took the rest of her attention as it was prepped. Another little whimper escaped her lips as she closed her eyes tight at the little twinge that was the point piercing fur and flesh. She only opened them again when Wyan gave her the all-clear and came at her with the gauze and the dressing.

It was pretty terrible for both of them. The painkillers were working so every touch, every flick of a muscle no longer brought about the sort of pain that felt like she was slipping into the next realm but it was still a nasty job. Every bruise tended, every cut covered made her wince until she was looking at the ceiling and just begging for it to end. Just for it to stop. Why had she fought him? Why had she been so stupid? She would have been okay if she hadn’t. She’d be here, or on the edge of the woods with Wyan and Kouzai and she wouldn’t have been in such pain.

When her fringe was pulled away, the Veela looked back into the half-breed’s eyes, blinking rapidly at the sting of gauze on the deep gash in her forehead, a chesty wheeze escaping her. That were the real pain was now, like a knife had been thrust under her ribs and refused to move, piercing every time she drew breath. More than the sensation was the growing fear in her mind. What was the pain? Could Wyan fix it? What if it never went away? What if it got worse?

“You…” she gasped, voice alien to her own ears, deep and rasping, “T-Thank…” she could get no further, gulping in a deep breath like she had just finished a hundred mile run. Regret came hot on the heels of the same stabbing torment in her ribs, “S-sore…” she managed between shallow breaths, “K-Kouz…?” She couldn’t see the vixen and a few anxiety washed over her.

===============================

"Shh, shh," Wyan stroked a hand through Teynea's hair. It only struck her belatedly how odd the gesture was, but it seemed like the right one. "Don't try to talk. The painkillers should take effect soon. Just lie still and try to relax.”

“I’m here,” Kouzai leaned around Wyan, having caught her breath in the interim. “Don’t worry about me. Still,” she said after a moment of hesitation. “We really shouldn’t stay here. That guy might come back, or the cops, and at this point I don’t like our odds.”

“Yeah,” the halfbreed glanced behind her, as if expecting a death squad to appear in the doorway. “Alright. Grab her robe, and do me a favor and go get her sword. It should still be in the street outside. Meet us at the truck.” Kouzai sat there for a moment, as if about to question her, but after a moment the young vixen nodded and left, disappearing around the corner.

“Alright,” she looked down at Teynea. “I’m going to wrap these sheets around you and carry you to the truck. Kouzai can drive and I’ll sit in the back with you, alright? I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.” She gave her another smile as she drew the sheets up and began to wrap Teynea in them. When the Veela was fully cocooned Wyan picked her up again, trying not to think of how much the sheets looked like a burial shroud.

Again she bowed her head again the rain, keeping Teynea close to her to try to shield her from it. The damp, cold blackness quickly swallowed them up but Wyan knew the way to go. Feeling Teynea’s warm, fragile body huddling against hers kept her putting one foot in front of the other until they were at the truck. Kouzai was already there and Wyan nodded her to the driver’s seat as she pulled the door open and pushed the assortment of equipment off the back seats. She then loaded Teynea in as carefully as she could, lying her across the seats before sitting beside her head.

“There,” she reached under the sheets and squeezed Teynea’s good hand again. “If all goes well then the next time you move we’ll be out of the city.” I hope, she thought with a glance to the windshield. Kouzai started the truck with the provided keys, and their eyes met in the rear view mirror. “We’ll want to take the quickest route out of the city,” she told her.

“Okay, I…think…I can do that.”

“Only there will be a roadblock,” Wyan bit her lip. “Crud. We’ll have to get past it somehow.” And Teynea can’t help us.

===============================

The painkillers had helped but there was still no real way to describe how Teynea felt as she was lifted again in her protective cocoon and brought through the hall. It wasn’t Wyan’s fault, not really, she was doing the best she could with their circumstances but that didn’t stop the Veela from sobbing softly into her chest as she leaned against her, every judder and shake bringing fresh whimpers, fresh cries as injuries that a painkiller couldn’t really mask tortured her every waking second. She barely even noticed the rain so lost in her own world was she, head lolling and limbs limp even in her shroud. The return to the wind and the rain was entirely unwelcome even as the half-breed did her best to shield her. She hated rain. She hated it with every fibre of her being. That hatred gave her something to focus on, something normal, something Teynea.

She needed it because as soon as the truck set off, everything moved into dimension of agony. The four-by-four was rocking and bouncing through the craters and over the debris of battle but every judder that went through the cab, every rattle, every lurch brought a stifled scream from Teynea as she was thrown this direction and that, never far enough to hit anything but far enough to trigger every pain receptor in her body at once. The Veela was biting her lip so hard to herself from screaming aloud that she could taste blood. It rose in intensity and length that the corners of her vision started to darken and the young warrior welcomed it, begged for it, the bliss of unconsciousness so close but always fading just enough to keep her trapped in eternal purgatory. Tears were flowing freely again, unable and unwilling to keep them back, unable to do anything really except keep her head pressed against Wyan’s body, the one piece of light in a very dark place.
“M-make…stop…” she whimpered through her closed mouth, speaking to herself more than anyone, “P-please…make…stop…please…” she tailed away into a broken sob. Her hand found Wyan’s beyond the cloth and she squeezed it tightly, holding on for dear life as her strength was stolen from her in a world of pain.

===============================

“I’m sorry,” Wyan gripped Teynea’s good hand, able to feel her trembling as the Veela wept in pain. “I’m so sorry,” she stroked a hand through her hair, careful to avoid the cut, just trying to impart whatever comfort she could even as she felt hot tears burn at the corners of her own eyes. It was all she could do. They couldn’t afford to slow down. Soon enough her tears were dripping down her snout.

An explosion far too close for comfort had Kouzai twisting the wheel hard, the truck taking off down a different street as fire rose into the air from a nearby building. They were headed for the outskirts of the city but the fighting seemed even worse as lancers flashed through the darkness and the odd air strike shook the vehicle’s windows in their frames. At one point a lancer blast cut right across the windshield and Kouzai slammed on the gas, sending the four-by-four hurtling away to avoid the firefight as it erupted in the middle of the street; it was impossible to tell one group of heavily-garbed figures from the other. All throughout Wyan held onto Teynea as best she could, wishing and hoping that she would soon pass out from the painkillers. That hadn’t happened by the time Kouzai halted in a deserted parking lot, killing the lights but leaving the engine running.

“There’s a roadblock up ahead,” she twisted in her seat and looked back at Wyan. “Any ideas?”

The travel writer could only shake her head. She’d been so busy with Teynea that she’d hardly even thought about the next obstacle. But when she looked down she found the lagomorph’s eyes closed, fur still matted with dark streaks from her tears, but finally asleep nonetheless. Letting go of her hand, she gave her head a last stroke as she used her free arm to wipe at her face. I hope you’ve gone somewhere better than here, she thought.

“Well, I’m not sure if this’ll work, but it’s the only thing I can think of,” Kouzai pulled a tablet from her backpack in the seat beside her. A few quick taps got her signed in and DAP appeared again, the tiny azure vixen waiting patiently as her mistress looked a few things over. “You still have the codes for the phone numbers you intercepted before, right?” she asked her digital assistant.

“Affirmative! This unit possesses two sequences related to two different cellular communications devices.”
“Alright, great. Here’s what I’m thinking. Those cops at the roadblock probably still have their cell phones so they can communicate with the death squad types, right? Since they’re not on the same communications network. Which means whoever’s in command of that roadblock definitely has one. So if we can figure out who that is, we can crack their phone, spoof that militia commander’s number, and with you imitating her voice we can order them to let us through the roadblock.”

“Error! How will you figure out who commands the roadblock?”

“Uh, I’m not sure. We might have to crack all the phones first and that’ll tell us who’s who. I hope.”

“Attention! This unit is ready to commence.”

It was as easy as Kouzai had expected. The cellular signals coming from the roadblock were linked to phones that were reasonably well-secured, but their defenses hardly slowed DAP down. The row of ellipses to show that she was working had barely appeared over her head before she gave Kouzai a wide smile and flashed green. “Attention! Access granted.”

Kouzai went to work. The phones weren’t sophisticated enough to have active defenses or even much in the way of their own security programs, so there was little to fight back against her as she “marked” each system as her own and gained administrative control. None of the officers ever even suspected that the computers in their pockets were silently being turned against them. Within minutes she was listening through the speakers of each, the falling rain creating a soft background hiss of static. It seemed like this roadblock had been somewhat beefed up; there were eight phones present in the area.

“Hell of a night for this, isn’t it?” a male voice said. Kouzai triangulated it as she heard a female grunt. “Storm got everyone inside and I bet now that the fighting’s started they’re not coming out. We might not even get anyone.”

“If we don’t get anyone, then we don’t get anyone,” the woman said. “It’s fine by me.”

“But say we do get someone, right? I know we’re supposed to detain anyone who tries to get past us, but what about the vehicle?”
“Move it off the road so it stays clear. We went over this, corporal,” Kouzai’s ears pricked up as she heard the rank.

“No, I know, I mean, who gets it?”

“Who gets it?”

“Yeah. I mean, once a furball goes to prison or whatever happens to them it’s not like they’re going to be coming back for it, right? Can’t just let it go to waste. Hell, I bet there’s a lot of cheap housing about to open-“

“No one in my squad is going to ‘get’ anything, corporal,” the woman’s tone turned frosty. “I don’t care how the government changes, we’re still police. That means we don’t steal. Not even from Xiscapians. Understood?”

“Yes, sergeant,” he said, humbled, but Kouzai hardly cared. She’d found her target. Before either of them could say another word DAP had lined up the spoofed phone number with the sergeant’s own. Kouzai gave her a thumbs-up and listened as the officer’s phone rang. There was some shifting and scraping before the phone was answered.

“Major General?” the woman was unable to conceal her surprise, but quickly recovered. “Sergeant Narai speaking.”

“Sergeant Narai,” DAP’s voice matched that of the Night Guard’s division commander perfectly. “In approximately five minutes a green Hitchens brand four-by-four will approach your checkpoint. You are to allow it to pass without delay. In the meantime you will call for a doctor to follow the vehicle in order to assist the passengers. These orders are of the utmost urgency; they may prove vital to the success of our operations. See that they are carried out.”

Kouzai could practically hear the sergeant stiffening. “Yes ma’am! Right away ma’am. We won’t fail you.”

“See that you don’t. I will know if things go according to plan. If they do then do not contact me, this channel must be kept clear. If things do not go according to plan, then rest assured that I will be the one contacting you.” With the final veiled threat hanging in the air DAP terminated the line. As the sergeant began shouting orders to her fellows Wyan leaned forward.
“What was that about a doctor?”

“Yeah, I didn’t tell you to do that, did I?” Kouzai looked down at DAP.

“Affirmative! This unit knows that Teynea requires immediate medical attention. This can be achieved through the proper application of guile and the threat of violence,” the intelligence grinned. “Once this vehicle is away the doctor will be too far away to receive help from their fellows when they discover our true nature. Thus our secondary objective can be met.”

The vixen stared at her little helper. “You scare me sometimes, DAP. But good thinking. I figure the two of us with guns should be able to handle it,” she glanced at Wyan. The halfbreed seemed unsure, but all it took was a look down at Teynea and her face hardened. The writer gave a nod.

“Alright,” Kouzai flicked the truck’s lights back on. “Here goes nothing. I hope.”

Getting through the roadblock proved anticlimactic. Wyan stared at the flashing lights atop the squad cars as they approached and couldn’t help but sink lower in her seat, afraid to be seen. Without any such luxury Kouzai sped ahead, spraying mud on the officers and their vehicles as she went past through the driving rain. A moment later a small white speeder pulled in behind them, following closely as they began to bump down the dirt track. Teynea groaned and Wyan stroked a hand over her ears, causing the lagomorph to quiet again.

She looked up to find Kouzai’s knees clamped to either side of the wheel, holding the truck’s course steady as she consulted her tablet. “What are you doing!?” Wyan grabbed at the handhold by her door, sure they were going to veer off into the trees at any moment. Somehow the kitsune kept them going more-or-less straight.
“I need to crack the phone of the guy behind us,” she answered without looking up. “Correction, make that guys behind us. Two of them in there if the number of phones is right. That way they can’t call for help when they realize we’re not a bunch of pasty white fucks. Aaaaand done,” Wyan could see the reflection of her smirk in the glass of the tablet’s screen. “Just bricked both their phones.”

“Okay. So, what, we pull over and take them?”

“That’s what I figure,” Kouzai’s eyes met Wyan’s in the rear view mirror. “You ready?”

She reached down and picked up the lancer carbine. The weapon was lighter than she would have expected but still unfamiliar in her hands. Yet it was still a gun, and after having gone for months without one right when she needed one Wyan had long since familiarized herself with how they worked. Enough to look threatening, I hope. “I guess,” she picked up the needlegun too and handed it to Kouzai once she pulled over to the side of the road. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

The vixen gave her a look. “I’m a Xiscapian kitsune. Of course I know how to use a gun.”

“Okay, okay. Listen, leave the truck running, alright? Keep the heat on for Teynea. And if we need to run.”

“Sure,” Kouzai glanced in the rear view mirror and saw that the speeder had drawn to a halt just behind them. She put her hand on the door handle.

“Wait,” Wyan eyed the Necrian vehicle. It was rather nice, all sleek curves and a glossy frame, though the sides had gotten muddy. “Wait for them to get out and come to us. Then as soon as we get out, we have the guns on them so they can’t run away. When I say go.”

Two figures got out of the speeder and began to walk forward, hunched against the rain. With hoods drawn and clothed head-to-toe it was impossible to tell their sexes or even their species, though given the humanoid builds she assumed they were Necrian. She noticed the leading one was carrying a case in one gloved hand. When they were just a few meters from the truck Wyan put her hand on the door handle. “Go!” she said, and pushed it open, one arm shielding her eyes while the other hefted the lancer.
She splashed down into the mud and turned. The two figures kept coming for a moment, not seeing or maybe not realizing the significant of her alien build and stolen weapon, but it didn’t take long. The pair froze, stopping short in the middle of the road as she raised the carbine, only for Kouzai to step around from the other side with needlegun in hand. “Hands in the air!” Wyan yelled. The two hesitated for a beat before the leading one dropped the case and raised their palms, soon followed by their fellow.

“Come on,” she waved them forward with her gun barrel. “Bring that bag. C’mon,” she glanced at Kouzai, suddenly wishing she’d thought to take a couple of pairs of handcuffs off the police at the first roadblock. They’d have to make do. “Keep them covered,” she nodded to Kouzai before stepping back to the truck’s passenger side.

Really should have thought of this before. But the glove compartment yielded what she was looking for: a case of jumper cables. Under the muzzle of Kouzai’s needlegun she used the cables to tie each Necrian’s hands in front of them, binding their wrists and leading each over to the side of the truck. The first, a slender dark-haired man, was sat in the passenger seat with his case at his feet while she lashed his hands to the handhold. She did the same to his companion, a shorter woman with bright blue eyes, restraining her in the backseat by Teynea’s feet.

“What do you want with us?” to his credit the man’s voice showed no sign of fear as he glared back at Wyan. “If it’s hostages you’re looking for you might as well not bother. We’re not police or Night Guards, I own a private practice in the city. You should really let us go. A lot of people are going to suffer because I’m not around to help them-“

“Shut up!” The anger flared suddenly in Wyan’s breast, and in the blink of an eye the lancer was pointed at the Necrian. All the stress and horror and impotent rage seemed to crash back down on her in that moment, but her weapon never wavered. “What about all the people suffering right now?! You were on call for those cops. I bet the only people you’d willingly treat are Necrians,” she bared her teeth. “But I’m not giving you a choice. My friend’s hurt. You’re going to heal her.”
His eyes flicked down to the gun barrel, then back up to hers. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I see how much of you I can burn off before you stop being useful.” The savagery in her own words surprised her, but she found she no longer cared. She’d seen too much tonight to feel much mercy. But it had the appropriate effect, the man’s eyes widening as he realized the same thing she had: there were a lot of body parts he didn’t need to do medical work. She heard him gulp.

“I, I see,” he exhaled. “It seems I have little choice,” he looked back at Teynea. “I’ve never worked on one of her kind before but if the damage is not too significant then I should be able to help. So can my assistant.” The Necrian woman had been altering between staring at Teynea and Wyan, face reflecting terror and fascination in equal measure.

“She has a dislocated shoulder, a fractured hip, and two broken ribs, one of which punctured the lung and is making her bleed internally. Also a bunch of cuts and bruises. Seem doable?” Wyan’s expression left little room for doubt as to what the answer would be.

“I think so.”

“Good. We’re going to get moving here again,” she nodded to Kouzai. “But once we stop, I want both of you working on her. Understand?” They both nodded, and she finally let herself sit back as the truck rolled forward.
Hold on, Teynea, she touched the Veela’s head again. You’ll feel better soon.
R.I.P. Shal
17/01/2010

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04/06/2018

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Necrisis
Diplomat
 
Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Sat Dec 31, 2016 1:48 pm

Fel’tethra City
Her Merciful Lance

Fel watched the Shurikens whip overhead once… twice… and then peel away.
Mercy had cloaked them and dove into the street below, her reflexes unparalelled at controling the ship.
One of the Yddrians had jumped onto the building and vented its core, drawing the missile’s attention - coupled with ECM and Mercy’s cloak, the thing didn’t even know it had locked a different target.
Child Eternal-2 stood next to Fel in the pouring rain as they watched the storm gather itself up again, renewing its vigor.
“Sorry for your loss,” Fel said, turning back to the ship. “He seemed like a good soldier.”
“He is. CE-1 made a back up of his core before we departed the ARCON.” CE-2 followed Fel, his heavy feet making the ground tremble. “He does not even know he died out here. He will be rewarded for his valor.”
Fel shook his head. He didn’t get the Yddrian’s. Synthetic races - particularly digital consciousness ones - were hard to sympathize with.

He waved a hand to the Night Guards clustered about the main room of Mercy’s hold. “Alright, listen up. The Sworn’s head needs to make it back to the Necropolis. When you arrive, you tell the flight deck commander that you are delivering a package for Master Faeden. She will direct you to the ship-board Void Temple. Once there, you will speak with Sheor. He is Lord Faeden’s assistant. He will take it from there. Then get some rest. You’ll be redeployed in a few hours when the fleet makes landfall. Good luck, all of you.”
“And what about you?” one asked, watching Fel through the opaque visor.
“I have another mission,” Fel said, pulling up his hood and checking the charge on his lancer pistol and carbine. “My original one. I’ve been diverted to help with this. An Invasion is a good cover. Now, Mercy will get you out of here. You're cloaked, so the mines and battle shouldn’t be an issue. And remember,” he said, waving a hand that shimmered slightly with red lights, matching the shimmer in his eyes. “Lance Master Darian Fel died at the Government Center while trying to rescue the SIN diplomats.”

Fel watched the shimer of Mercy’s cloak vanish into the storm before he turned down Clarion St, patiently stretching out his psionics, touching the panicked and fearful minds around him, searching...

* * *
Sanjia levered her attacker into the glass window, cracking both his head and the pane.
Arkar was dead - shot through almost six times with a lancer pistol.
Yidan had gunned down four of the Necrians outside, leaving only two more to search the place after they gut shot him and left him in the hallway.
Sanjia had gotten the drop on the first to enter the room, using him to shield the lancer shots she’d earned from the man she had just now thrown into a window.
Her Basics kicked in and she tucked the lancer pistol into the waistband of her pants and scooped Aroji into her arms. He was in shock, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide and fearful. He flinched when she grabbed him and Sanjia felt tears sting her eyes.

She had to get to the spaceport. Necrian death squads in the streets and buildings, open warfare between the Night Guards and the XIS garrison.
She held no hope that the Xiscapians would let her onto a transport - Kazuki had briefed her on standard protocols their first week in Xiscapian Space and she knew that in the event of planetary invasion, social unrest and potential societal collapse, that evac was their best option.
But maybe she could get Aroji to a willing family. Someone to take him away from here.
They might lock her up, but at least he’d be safe, and maybe she could provide evidence that she was married to Kazuki?
That might just get him in trouble, but the Xiscapians would at least hear her out.
The SIN might not.

As these thoughts raced through her mind, Sanjia was running down the stairs, ignoring the other cries and screams of lancer weapons.
She reached the bottom and ran out into the rain, bare feet slaping on the pavement as she turned down the street towards the spaceport. She’d jogged the distance a few times - it wasn’t that far.

The street was empty, except for a crashed car and a few Xiscapian bodies. Sanjia didn’t even process the four hung bodies over the tree in the center of their street - three Necrians with ‘Traitor’ painted across their naked bodies.
The last was a young kitsune boy, not too much older than Aroji, swinging balefully in the howling wind.

Sanjia put her head down and ran, fear starting to eat away at her core as she passed horror after horror.
Lancers and gunfire argued in the near distance, warring against each other and the storm above.

Suddenly, Sanjia felt fear grip her and she skidded to a halt outside her favorite cafe.
At the end of the street a man was walking towards her. He was hooded in the Necrian fashion and there was an air of menace about him.
Sanjia shifted Aroji and drew her pistol. She was soaked through to the bone, bed clothes clinging to her and making it hard to move but she used her psionics to steady her hand.
“Stop! Stop, don’t come any closer,” she called out.
The figure didn’t stop, merely waved his hand and Sanjia felt the twist of psionic weave around her gun arm.
It was strong - much stronger than hers. Amplified perhaps? She struggled to keep focus, but then she found her fingers opening along the handle of the gun, saw it float to the ground as the warmth of the other mind engulfed her arm, torso and legs.
“M-mother?” Aroji asked, his little voice so full of fear that it almost caused her physical pain.
Sanjia’s power flared and she felt the other pull away.
She hugged her son close, closing her eyes and falling to her knees.
“It’s ok, darling. It’s okay my little kit. It’s ok…”

She could feel the man standing over her now, his glowing red eyes fixed on the small half-breed.
“A child? Sani… I am sorry.”
Sanjia jerked back as if she’d been struck. Sani?
She looked up at the man and felt relief replaced with overwhelming dread come over her. “Feldrak?”
Fel knelt down. “Yes.”
“Why are you here, Fel?”
“You,” was his only response. She could feel the turmoil roll off him. She couldn’t help but hope that he wasn’t here to kill her. Maybe he had been ordered to kill her but wouldn’t. Was her Father that far gone?
But he wore the robes of the Temple, a simple crest on a chain about his neck that dangled between them. He was no assassin, but he wasn’t here to help her.
He rested a hand on Aroji’s head. “I didn’t know… they didn’t mention a child, Sani. I am sorry.”
“You don’t have to do this, Fel.” Sanjia could feel hot tears run down her face, mixing with the cold rain that pounded down on them. “You don’t. You could just return, say you couldn’t find me…”
“I cannot do that, Sanjia. They know where you are. If I fail, they will send someone else. And they might not be as gentle.” He knelt before her, resting a hand on Aroji's head, stroking one ear.
She sobbed, inhaling with a shuddering breath. Aroji’s face was lax now, asleep. Fel was much more powerful than he ever had been years before, to just render someone unconscious at will, with but a touch. She’d always seen herself as strong, capable. Hellpits, she, Fel and Kazuki had all survived the worst a rogue organization could throw at them, a hostile planet.
And he had been one of her oldest friends. She had always loved him - not always romantically - but here he stood, preparing to take her life away as if it was just another term paper.

“You know,” he said, and she caught a lilt of pain and anguish in his voice. “I had pictured this differently. I stood on those steps to your building a dozen times, knowing that I could just make contact, sit down for tea with you and… done. That would be it. In your apartment. Where you loved and were loved. It would not have made it easier, but perhaps… less painful.”
“Fel… please…my son… please...”
“Sani,” he stroked her brow, pushing back the hair stuck to her forehead. It looked like he was going to say something else, but he choked on the words. He pressed his hands to her head and she felt the overwhelming warmth and pressence of another mind as it bent the psionic weave and beat her’s down. She couldn’t even resist her mind was so scattered, so tired.
She felt her vision waver and memories start to flood her.
So this is the life that flashes before my eyes? she thought to herself. It could have been worse, I suppose.
But it was wrong. Something was off.
Memories of her time in school flashed by, skewed, altered but she didn’t know how. Then images of the fleet, her father, schematics…
“F-felll…” she tried to speak but could only focus on the gathering darkness and the white kitsune that lay beside her on the ground, the man in black above her, crimson eye glowing like the embers of a dead fire.
He was crying, tears streaming down his dry face under the hood of his heavy cloak.

She blinked and was suddenly in a warm room, clustered in with dozens of other fox-people - kitsune? Seemed right…
Above her rain thundered on the transparasteel roof, a grand storm ripping apart the heavens above.
She was wrapped in a dark cloak that smelled faintly of rain and cedar and a strange scent that she couldn’t place.
She looked down at the little kitsune curled on her lap, his white fur matted from mud and rain. That was the state of a lot of them. Kitsune and wolf-people and tiger-men… hundreds of these creatures gathered in this space. They were all quiet, scared.
“Miss?”
She looked around, not sure who ‘Miss’ was. A pair of fox-men were starring at her. They were dressed in simple uniforms, but were certainly part of an organization. She smiled at them then looked down at the kit in her arms. He shivered and she felt compelled to hold him. Surely he’d been seperated from his real family. She could hold him until they came back.
“Miss? Miss, I need identification.” One of the kitsune had taken a step forward.
She just nodded, slowly realizing that she couldn’t remember what an ‘ID’ was.
She simply presented the sequence on her forearm. The alpha-numeric barcode had been decorated with vines and flowers, but she didn’t know when that had happened.
She felt that someone would be very mad about that.
That made her feel sad, confused…
She felt her face crumple as she offered her arm once again.
Emotions and confusion collapsed down on her and she broke down. She curled around the small kitsune, holding him even as she continued to offer her arm to the Xiscapian Spaceport Authorities.
She didn’t even know who ‘She’ was.

Necropolis
Invasion ET: 2.34

Faeden’s eyes flickered open to the swirling mists of a stasis chamber. Even as he gained consicousness, horrible, nightmarish thoughts, feelings and pain flooded him. He writhed, unable to speak for the tubes in his mouth and the mask attached to his face.

The tube hissed open and several pairs of hands reached for him. He could feel the psionic dampners kick on, even as his powers flared and the lights flickered.
“Master Faeden? Master, can you hear me? Focus on my voice.”
The man’s voice was Sheor Kharis, an acolyte of Faeden’s personal order of Templars, and possibly the closest thing Faeden had to a friend. The young man’s voice and sharp features swam in and out as his vision adjusted.
“Kha...risss,” he managed at long last. “Goddess…”
“Yes, Master. But hold still but a moment, please. We need to make you presentable.”
“F-for… w-ha...at?” Faeden slurred, barely able to stand as he was hefted up from the floor by three preists.
“The Empress, Master Faeden. She’s awaiting you in the antechamber now.”
* * *
Faeden had to say he’d wished Rilaena had learned patience as well as tact in her years of training and now governance. Unfortunately - or very fortunately depending on who you asked - she saved her energy for such thing for when she was before the Court.
For him she spared no such trivial notion.

“Damn, Faed,” she said, setting down the glass of ‘Ichorian 3E221’ - his personal favorite - with a disgusted look on her face. He couldn’t tell if it was at him or the wine he liked. “You look about as bad as your wine tastes.”
And there was his Empress. So tactless as to insult him within one breath.
Faeden let Sheor push the hoverchair over to the view-port, where he could see the flashes of Xiscapian laser-mines interspersed with fighters and the heavy lancer Arbalest cannons tear across the darkness of space.
“Well, Miss Rilaena, the next time you channel your conscious form into a cloned body, let me know how that goes, would you?”
“Get me a clone and I will.”
Faeden grimaced. “No, I don’t think the galaxy is ready for two Rilis.”
“Damn straight.”
She waved the aides away as she approached - only Sheor remained, standing by the door. Her grin faltered a little as she crouched down next to him, a soldier’s pose that put her knees up under her chin. “Joking aside… how are you?”
Faeden glanced down at the body he now inhabited, vision flashing to writhing tentacles for a moment. “Could be better.”
“How did it go?”
“About as well as you expected it to go. They agreed that official transfers of power would have been possible, but put it at maybe a half-year. We both know that means years - perhaps closer to a decade than we’d like to admit.
“You made the right call, Rilaena.”
Rilaena hid her face in the notch of her knees. “Faeden, you’ve psionically imposed yourself into another you, we’re still two hours out from even starting the landing forces and this minefield isn’t even as thick as they come. It’s only going to get harder and I cannot go back to the capitol and say, ‘hey, oops. Seems like we bit off more than we could chew. Sorry guys, maybe next year.’”
“Mistress, you’re choices-”
“Were limited, I know. But the Xiscapians were possibly the best ally we have out here. And now we’re at war with them. And we’re the bloody aggressor.”
“We are justified-”
Rilaena glared at him. “Hardly.” She sighed and unfolded her small body to a standing position again. “Enough. We’ve gone over this a thousand times and then some. I want a full report for Aedallen’s command council in one hour. But I wouldn’t say no to a preview?”
Faeden shot her a look but couldn’t help but laugh.
Her youth would surpass them all, he had no doubt.
“As plans go, it fell apart a little bit ahead of schedule. Kaga was there. Saved the delegates.”
“That’s going to make things harder,” Rilaena said, frowning. “I want your evaluations on them in the report.”
“Noted. Kaga engaged me in battle. We… annihilated each other. She in a bomb blast. I by her accomplice - also with aerial strike ordnance. I do not know his fate, but I had killed him once before.”
She made a face - confused and frustrated. “People like you just don’t stay dead do they. She out of the picture then?”
“No such luck. Kaga is as hard to kill as I am. I fear she had similar back up plans to myself. Though she might suspect I survived, there’s no reason for her to believe so. I would like to work through proxy while I recover. Perhaps even then… for a time, at least.”
Rilaena nodded, though she seemed sad. “I understand, Faeden. We’ll keep your Reborn status underwraps.”
“Thank you.”
“And Mercy?”
“You should be expecting her and Commander Feldrak soon. They will also file reports, but if the fighting intensifies, Mercy might play it safe and wait until we control High Orbit so she can get in with little conflict.”
Rilaena nodded. “Right then.” She patted his shoulder. “ Faeden? It’s good to have you back. I’ll admit, I was worried. Saerkhar said you… lost yourself in his weave for a time. Thought…” She coughed and blinked rapidly for a second. “Just look after yourself old man.”
Without waiting for his response, Rilaena turned and walked away. “One hour, Faeden. We’ll meet here for your memorial service. No one but the Inner Council, ok?”

Faeden watched Rilaena pass through the portal to his room and then turned back to the starfield beyond. Kaga would know he was alive. She was too cagey to not expect it. But his new body wasn’t like his old one. This was purely flesh and bone, with no augmentations. And his hostile takeover of the clone’s mind hadn’t been perfect. It was as if he’d made himself stroke out - his left arm and face were paralyzed, minimal function in his legs.
He could fix that, and he had his own experiments to run, new projects, new horrors to keep his people safe.
“Sheor?”
“Yes, Master Faeden?”
“Get me a drink, would you? Something stiff.”

Our Lady General Hospital
Streets

"You will do no such thing, Martial law doesn't mean you get to do whatever you damn well please. Everyone in the Empire is entitled to a trial...even suspected traitors,"

Sork didn’t turn around. “I’ll do what I must to protect this city and these people. If that’s an execution on grounds of suspected terrorism and traitorous action, then I have full authority to do so. This isn’t your tidy little courtroom, ‘sir.’ This is a warzone and we don’t get the luxury of a trial. So if you want to save your Governor and your wife, then tell her to unbutton her mouth and tell me what the living f-”

Sork never finished the sentence as the rounded the corner to the explosion of a rocket from the hospital’s upper floors, crashing into a barricade below.

“Hellpits,” he spat and shoved the car into reverse. “Kurshina, I need someone to tap coms. I need to know who’s-who down here.” He lowered the window even as he backed the car into an alley. “Praetra, take Akushi with you and set up a sniper post there.” He pointed to the building above them. “We’ll let you know when we determine what’s going on and then you find targets of priority. Support where you can but watch yourselves. If you need to bug out, do it but try to let me know.”
The Necrian woman and tod nodded and hopped down from the vehicle, quickly making their way up the side of the building with a pair of grapnels.
Sork closed the window and turned to Kelaetra.
“Miss, I need answers. Your mother isn’t doing good. If we don’t get into that building and get her some medical attention, we’re going to have other issues.”
“Quite the change in tone,” Kelaetra spat back at him. “One minute you’re threatening a Thane with her life the next trying to appeal to her by way of her injured mother. Stellar police work.”
Sork leveled a finger at her. “Don’t give me lip, girl. You’re lucky we got to you and not some death squad.” He tapped the side of his head where a small comms array had been implanted. “I’ve been listening on any open frequency I can get my hands on. Everything, every scrap. I’m getting a lot of nonsense - Necrian militia gunning down whole Xiscapian neighborhoods, setting fire to buildings, holding public executions and dealing with anyone who’s not with them as the enemy. My station got shot up by a man I’ve known for eight years. Served with him, bled with him. Closest thing to a friend a police commissioner can have and then I have to put him down with my bare hands because I don’t have a gun and he’s just shot up my office, killed my Chief Inspector and grazed Kuri here. So - in short - I am a bit pissed off, confused and in need of any intel I can get.”
Kelaetra didn’t look up. Couldn’t - she was shaking so badly, she just wanted to scream.
“It’s the first phase of an invasion. By the Solar Imperium of Necrotia. I… I was one of several top officials to know the exact time schedule, but none of this was planned. The civilian casualties… they were expected. Crossfire, friendly fire. Necrians have fought so many civil wars in the last half century its just second nature to us.
“But we didn’t want this.”
Sork stared at her for a moment before turning back to look out the front. “Well… then… that’s a load.”

Kelaetra looked sidelong at Shuji. “I’m… Shuji, I’m so sorry. I… The Imperium needs territory, they need to expand. They tried diplomacy - even before today - but none of it went anywhere. With the KEX tied up in their own wars across the galaxy, this little corner gets glossed over, but when as any KEX territory just been handed over. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was just the Night Guard and militia that were supposed to be fighting. I know war isn’t clean, I know it doesn’t go all to plan, but I didn’t want this!”

Spaceport
Canteena ‘Bucket’


Yana edged closer to the doorway, her heart beating out of her chest, shaking her small body.
She’d only killed a few people, and even that had felt more accidental than it should. Impersonal. Most of them had been Hetaevans, robots or other… ‘things.’
But this?
This was a Necrian.
A piece of shit Necrian, but a Necrian nonetheless. He deserved this, he deserved to die for what he’d done…

Nax’s vision swam as Koiwa kneeled down next to him, gingerly inspecting the wound on his head.
“Ow,” he said, thickly. “Remind me to… talk to Lucky about… keeping his damn hatches closed…”
Koiwa made a disgusted noise and turned around as Faran stepped out from behind the bar, leveling his lancet at her, not even bothering with the AXES.
“Oh, how sweet. Well, Nax old boy, hope you liked well seared fox. I know I want to try it.” He sighted the pistol. “Say hello to the Goddess for me you little shit.”
He pulled the trigger.

The scream of the lancer pistol echoed around the room, hot silver light burning through Faran’s chest, spinning him and drawing his own lancet’s shot into the ceiling. A tight cluster of shots emptied the clip into his chest - six, twelve, nineteen.
Yana stood in the door, her hands shaking again. She only kept her composure for as as it took for Faran to hit the floor, a gaping hole in his chest, burn marks across the rest of his body, before she herself sank to her knees.
“Goddess forgive me,” she murmured - more to herself than to anyone else.

Nax reached up to Koiwa’s face, fumbling around as his vision faded in and out. “Anyone got some medi-gel? I think my body needs some...”
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

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Xiscapia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Sun Feb 05, 2017 4:53 am

One block from Our Lady General Hospital, Streets...

“I’ll do what I must to protect this city and these people. If that’s an execution on grounds of suspected terrorism and traitorous action, then I have full authority to do so. This isn’t your tidy little courtroom, ‘sir.’ This is a warzone and we don’t get the luxury of a trial. So if you want to save your Governor and your wife, then tell her to unbutton her mouth and tell me what the living f-”

Sork hadn't turned around, but Kurshina had. The vixen watched as Shuji's eyes narrowed to yellow slits, hackles raising as his ears flattened into his bedraggled hair in classic signs of an angered kitsune. His lips peeled back to expose a mouth full of needle-like teeth and she found her hand on the butt of her sidearm, ready to pull it in case the governor made a lunge for her superior. Before he could so much as say anything they went swerving back around the corner in face of the fighting ahead, and by the time Kurshina turned back the tod was looking down at Alyana again, face as blank as if the flare of rage had never happened. She didn't let herself relax, only uttering a quick "Aye" before she pulled out her phone and began tracking signals.

When Sork turned on Kelaetra again Shuji raised his head, tail whipping as he looked between the two. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his ears flicked low again, though neither of them paid any attention to him. The police chief started to describe what he'd been hearing and again Shuji stared down at Alyana. Even taking in how she'd gone even more pale than usual, breathing lightly in his arms, was better than watching Kelaetra tremble uncontrollably as the stench of her fear and shame and anger filled the car. Tears were already stinging at his eyes as his wife began to speak.

His ears pushed down against his head like they were trying to spare him her words, but he heard her anyway. She'd helped the Solar Imperium arrange the conference under false circumstances, had known the schedule for the invasion, and led him and her mother right into the trap. She went on about casualties and territory and diplomacy and he just wanted to clamp his hands over his head and block her out. As it was he felt a hot tear drip from the corner of his eye and onto Alyana's face. Sucking in breath, he wiped it away with a quivering hand, his own arm brushing across his face as he tried to clear away the water. Shuji gasped out, trying to just draw in breath, and it turned into a sob that he clamped down on, tail lashing as he hugged Alyana tighter.

"I'm really hoping," his voice was thick as he hunched over his mother-in-law, "that they didn't tell you what was going to happen. That you didn't know that they were going to shoot Alyana. But I can't believe you," Shuji looked up at her, eyes shining. "I have no idea if you're lying to me. I don't think I even know you," his voice cracked at that. "My own wife. The woman I love. But she loves a nation she's never set foot in more than she loves her own family."

His head dropped at that, refusing to look at Kelaetra again. More tears dripped onto Alyana's clothes and this time he didn't bother trying to get rid of them. There was dead silence in the car apart from the rain and the sound of weapons fire. After a minute Kurshina glanced back at the trio and took her finger off the "record" button on her phone, evidence captured. There wouldn't be any more problems from them now, she supposed. The revelation of the invasion was disturbing, but all she could do about that was keep doing her duty to the best of her ability. A moment later she had something.

"Sir. It's pretty confusing with all the signals and chatter going around, but I think I figured out what's going on," she looked at Sork. "There's a Night Guard company surrounding Our Lady General, plus a few police and a whole bunch of irregulars. They've got an Imperial company trapped inside the hospital and are trying to clear them out, but they're not making much progress at the moment. Apparently the company's fighting extremely hard. I'm not sure why they're at the hospital, but it doesn't look good, sir. There's no way in or out without going through Night Guard lines, and we wouldn't last five seconds even in this thing."

The vixen patted the civilian-variant APC's side before going back to her phone. "I'm trying to see if I can't push a signal through to link up with someone inside. If I can just talk to one of the soldiers we can find out more, maybe come up with a plan-" She paused mid sentence, vulpines eyes watching the screen intently as her fingers flew over it. "I've got a lock on something, if I can just -got it! Hello?" she spoke into the phone. "This is Sergeant Kurshina, Korfel City Police Department. Can you hear me?"

"You're bloody lucky you're a vixen," a woman's voice rasped from the other end. Kurshina blinked.

"Uh, yes ma'am, I tend to agree with you. Who am I speaking to?"

"Nicky Thompson, Private," she gave her name, rank, and serial number in a thick Archian accent. "You're lucky twice over that I've been monitoring comms since I got hit. Where the hell are you, anyway?"

Kurshina glanced at Sork. "Outside the hospital, suffice to say, but my team has the governor and she's badly wounded. Won't make it without medical attention. We're trying to get to a doctor who can help."

Thompson gave a humorless laugh. "You picked the worst place in the city for that, sarge. There's no doctors here."

"What? Did your unit evacuate them?"

"I wish we did. They're all dead. I don't know all the details, but after the Night Guards attacked us the first sergeant got us out here and we found a bunch of irregulars at the hospital, people in civvie clothing with lancers. By the time we ran them off and got into the building..." They all heard her take a deep breath. "We found a few survivors. The guerillas came here wanting to detain all the non-Necrians. When the staff refused, they opened up on them. Shot patients in their beds, executed the staff, threw grenades into the maternity ward-" Kurshina could practically hear her force herself to stop. "There's hundreds dead, maybe a thousand, I don't know. But there's no doctors left."

Kurshina took a breath of her own, only looking at Sork once before going back to the phone. "They'll pay for everything they've done. They will. But that doesn't help the governor. Are there any medics left in the company?"

"There's one I'm aware of. I'll see if I can't get them patched through to you."

"Thank you," the kitsune breathed a sigh of relief. "You might have just helped save the governor's life."

"I hope so. We fucking need to save someone's life tonight."

Our Lady General Hospital, Seventh Floor...

Specialist Fusae took the stairs two at a time as shi headed up the dark floors lit only by the reddish glow of emergency lights. The building trembled periodically from explosions and the force of the typhoon's winds against its exterior, the howling and echoing booms combined with the muffled yells of those still fighting and the screams of the wounded and dying down below. Shi couldn't help but feel the guilt trying to claw its way from the pit of hir stomach, through hir chest and into hir throat, but shi forced it down even as shi made it to the landing and threw the door open. It wasn't as if shi was abandoning the others, Fusae told herself. Shi had a different set of orders.

The company's acting C.O. had set herself up in one of the many administrative officers on the top floor. It was roughly in the center, away from the windows and holes blown in the walls along the perimeter, though part of the ceiling had collapsed in and crushed the executive desk beneath it. Instead first lieutenant Zayev had what few paper documents she could muster spread out on a coffee table, leaning over to read a marked-up paper. Fusae noticed that the table was the only piece of furniture in the room: all the other furnishings had already been removed to barricade the doors and windows. Zayev looked up and Fusae bowed to the escan officer, receiving only a curt nod in return. The time for formalities was long past.

"Specialist Fusae reporting, ma'am."

"Specialist. How's the fight going?"

"Not well, ma'am," Fusae exhaled as a shuddering boom from below seemed to punctuate hir statement. If the time for formalities had passed, so had the time for understating the situation. "We've got better positions than they do, and we don't lack for medical supplies for the wounded," shi paused then, doing hir best to put the reason for that out of hir head. "But they've got numbers and time. Our ammo isn't going to hold out if this keeps up."

Zayev didn't look surprised, and with a sinking feeling Fusae realized that the lupine no doubt knew all of that already. "What about our casualties?"

"They're still relatively light, ma'am," shi winced a little even saying that. A company had already been under strength to start with thanks to one of its platoons being broken off to guard the government center, and the Night Guard attack had further reduced those numbers. It seemed absurd to say casualties had been light when they'd already lost dozens of soldiers, but it was true that they hadn't had too many wounded or killed since reaching the hospital. "Most of the wounded we're able to get back into the fight pretty quick, one way or another. If they're in any way mobile and conscious we've been able to put them back on the line."

"And if they're not?"

"We've been able to make them comfortable." They both knew what that meant. With no air support, no real communications to anyone outside, and the hospital completely surrounded, anyone who was too seriously wounded had no hope for evacuation. "Like I said, we don't want for supplies. Ma'am."

Zayev nodded. "I have an assignment for you, specialist. There is a group of loyal police who have set up a block away from here. They have the governor, and she is in critical condition. I've marked their location here," she handed across a map of the local area with an X marking the position of the governor and her protectors. "They suggest you head for the roof and try to make it to them across the tops of the surrounding buildings. You must not be seen or followed by any of the hostiles out there."

Fusae studied the map, mulling over the information presented to hir. A rumble shook the building and shi put a hand on the map to keep it from falling off the table. In another time and place being requested to treat the governor would have been an honor, but all shi felt now was more guilt and a new fear. Shi didn't allow any of that to show on hir face as shi looked up at hir superior. "I understand, ma'am. Will I have any support?"

"We can't afford you much from our end without making it obvious that we're covering you, but those cops came prepared. They told me they have a sniper team watching the line so if you encounter any obstacles they should be able to take care of them for you. Their frequency is here," she tapped a comm code with a claw. "Once you've stabilized the governor you are to subordinate yourself to the most senior officer present for the duration. Any questions?"

Shi hesitated, grasping the implications, and then slowly shook hir head. "No ma'am. I understand," shi said even as the guilt coiled in hir gut.

"Good. One more thing," Zayev reached into a compartment in her armor and pulled out a data drive. Meeting Fusae's eyes, she extended the device to hir. "This is your secondary objective. It includes footage from the massacre here, our logs of the dead, and an account of what happened here. People need to know what these terrorists did," her eyes were both hard and shining. "Find a way to get it into the right hands. Don't let them cover up the graves of a thousand dead."

The tixen took the drive slowly, holding it between hir fingers. Shi stared at it for a moment, more weight settling onto hir shoulders. Save the governor's life and prove a massacre happened. In the middle of a typhoon and a revolt. Right. Securing the stick inside hir own armor, Fusae gave an abbreviated bow. "I'll do my duty, ma'am," shi straightened up, and hesitated again. "Ma'am. Thank you. For trusting me with this. And...for all your courage," shi swallowed hard. "As far as I'm concerned, ma'am, you're a martyr."

"You're the one I should be thanking," Zayev brushed it off. "Because of you, our sacrifice won't be in vain. Now go, specialist. Save the governor. Get the truth out there."

Without another word Fusae bowed a final time and turned away, striding back out the door again. In a matter of minutes shi'd traded hir rifle and ammunition for more medical supplies, packing as much as shi could into hir armor before finally judging hirself ready. It was a short walk to the last staircase up that led to the roof. The access hatch had been crumpled inwards from an earlier explosion and water flowed down the stairs in repeating waterfalls, hir boots splashing through it as shi climbed. At the top Fusae stood still for a moment as shi looked across the pockmarked surface of the hospital's roof. The Night Guards had opened up their attack with a mortar strike that had left the hospital roof holed and unstable, so there was no one at the top. Almost as soon as shi stepped out the wind buffeted hir, forcing Fusae to travel low and slow as shi picked hir way across through the lashing rain. Crouching behind the burned-out husk of an air ambulance, shi extended hir fiber-optic around the side and peered over the side to what lay below.

Lancer blasts lit up the rainy night with crimson streaks and here and there among the enemy lines fires burned from destroyed vehicles. Fusae took hir time, eyeing the locations of the Necrian positions. Most of the fighting was still happening at ground level as the Night Guards and partisans tried to force their way into the hospital, with some fire going from and from the windows of the upper floors, but it didn't seem like anyone was paying attention to the rooftop. Given the battle and the storm shi silently hoped that none of them looked up when shi made hir jump. Satisfied that shi was clear, shi panned hir little camera up the office building across the street, checking for enemy soldiers until shi reached the top.

Shit. The medic's muzzle tightened as shi laid eyes on three armored figures on the roof. One had a long rifle mounted on top of an air conditioning unit, using it for both stability and cover as her fellow beside her spotted for targets. Behind the two crouched the third trooper, rifle cradled -the flanker of the sniper team, shi realized. Even as shi watched the weapon's barrel turned smoothly and fired a searing flash into the building below, and shi had to wonder if they might have just shot someone shi knew. Gritting hir teeth, the vixen kept hir camera focused on them as shi patched into the frequency shi'd been given.

"This is Specialist Fusae, calling police contact."

"We have you, Specialist," a woman's voice came back instantly. "Corporal Praetra, KCPD. What is your position?"

"I'm on the roof of the hospital, above the fourth window to the left."

"Okay, we have you. Are you clear to jump?"

"There's a sniper team set up on the building across from me, three soldiers. That's the closest rooftop to me, and there's no way I can make that jump without them seeing me. Can you get rid of them?"

"Standby and hold your position, Specialist. We'll get them out of your way."

With that the link went silent and Fusae was left watching and waiting. It didn't take long. The only way shi knew that the first shot had occurred was because the flanker slumped over, gun limp in his arms before he keeled forward with a fist-sized hole in his back. The sniper and spotter didn't seem to notice, too busy tracking another target to pay attention to what was happening right behind them. Shi couldn't even tell where the friendly sniper was. This time Fusae saw the sniper start, rifle falling as she braced herself against the side of the AC unit before she sagged to one side. Jerking back, the spotter was just leaning over his comrade in bewilderment when a third and final shot sent him sprawling.

Fusae didn't move, staring at the trio of bodies and alert for any signs of life. They lay still in the rain where they'd fallen, and shi focused on them with such intensity that shi almost jumped when Praetra came back on her comms. "Targets eliminated. You should be clear now, Specialist. We'll continue to cover you until you've reached the objective."

"Thank you," Fusae exhaled. Now came the really hard part. Shi took another look at the street below. Falling roughly 20 meters was survivable in power armor, but even if shi wasn't injured shi knew the enemy would kill hir on the spot. Trying to put that possibility out of hir head, the tixen stood and carefully backed away from the landing pad, feet skillfully finding their way around the holes and weakened places in the roof as shi put some distance between hirself and the edge. Turning as the rain poured down and the wind pushed against hir, Fusae took a deep breath and coiled hir tail.
A beat passed, and Fusae sprinted.

Shi bolted across the rooftop through the driving rain, the wind at hir back seeming to propel hir further all the more as shi charged for the edge. Less than a meter away shi bent hir knees and sprang forward, a combination of hir naturally strong leg muscles, cybernetic enhancements, and the boost provided by hir power armor sending Fusae hurtling up into the air and across the gap. Shi didn't look down or behind hir, completely focused on hir destination as shi sailed down and just like that shi was over the roof. Fusae's legs hit first and shi allowed them to buckle, tucking into a roll and coming to a stop just beside one of the dead Necrians. Straightening up, shi glanced around and perked hir ears inside hir armor, searching for any sign that hir stunt had been noticed. There were no cries of alarm, no boots stamping on the stairs below, no lancer fire in hir direction. Shi began to breathe again.

"Nice jump," Praetra complimented hir.

"Thanks," Fusae exhaled, smiling a little in spite of hirself. "I take it you can see me?"

"We can. Proceed south at twelve o'clock. We are stationed on the right corner building."

There were a few more jumps to make but the gaps were closer here and with the battle behind hir Fusae made them easily. Hir all-around view afforded by hir sensors let hir watch the hospital as shi bounded away, all lit up by lancer fire and the occasional explosion, and for once shi wished that hir armor didn't afford hir such a view. Even so in less than a minute shi'd come to rest on the designated apartment rooftop, and only there did shi finally find the snipers: a lancer barrel poked out of a slot in the side of an A/C unit. When shi peered inside the tod holding the rifle nodded at hir, and the woman next to him gave hir a little wave. "They're just down in that alley," Praetra told hir. "Please hurry."

"Right. Thanks again," Fusae leaned over and looked down at the civilian-grade APC idling between the buildings and its protective cordon of STAD troopers. One of them signaled hir and with a flick of the tail the medic let hirself down the side of the building, landing on a balcony halfway down before simply dropping the rest of the way. The backdoor of the vehicle was opened and rain and wind forced their way inside along with hir before the hatch was closed to the elements once again. On hir hands and knees, Fusae stared at the other occupants of the space. Shi recognized the governor -in the arms of her son-in-law, the Imperial Governor of Alno’kae, across from her daughter, the Thane of the same system. Who was also handcuffed.

Ignoring the questions that immediately arose in hir mind, Fusae got to work. "Specialist Fusae of A Company, reporting," shi said even as shi got to folding the seats down, giving hirself as much of a flat, clear space as shi could to do hir work. The other two moved obligingly for hir, letting hir lay out hir tools and medicine before shi took Alyana from Shuji's unresisting arms. Stripping her out of her wet, soiled clothes, shi gave the woman another stimpack with hir tail at the same time before wrapping hir up in a space blanket to preserve her body heat. It was readily obvious where and what the wound was: an energy blast directly to the chest had left an irregular black patch across the woman's breasts.

"Airway clear, breathing and circulation is good," Fusae spoke mostly to hirself as shi examined Alyana, pulling saline-soaked gauze from hir pack to layer over the wounded woman's chest to soak in cooling liquid and the antibiotics she'd need to survive. Privately, shi was relieved: respiratory problems would have been the worst of hir worries, but as long as the patient was still breathing there was hope. "I'm going to set her up for a tracheal intubation and two intravenous lines," shi said as shi ran hir medical scanner over Alyana. "She got lucky. Her lungs don't seem to be damaged, but the burn extended through her skin and I'm picking up signs of bone fractures," again Fusae thought out loud, filling lines with crystalloid solution. "Those will heal, but it will take time." A minute later a tube had been run down Alyana's throat and two IVs were in her arms.

Shi kept speaking as shi dressed Alyana's wound, as much to keep hirself focused and to fill the otherwise dead air as for providing information. "The good news is that she's stable now and not in any immediate danger, but that could change easily unless she's closely monitored and treated. The important parts are keeping her airway open, maintaining her fluids, keeping her wound clean with regular antibiotics and dressings, and large amounts of opioids to help her cope with the pain," at last Fusae hesitated. This could be awkward at best. "Also, someone needs to be there for her to help her through the pain and anxiety. If her psychological needs aren't attended to during treatment then it could affect the outcome. I will do what I can, but someone from her family should be there," shi looked from Shuji to Kelaetra, acutely aware of the tension in the air.

"Regardless, she can't stay here," shi forged ahead. "She needs bedrest in a warm, dry place where we can monitor her treatment and recovery. Which means we need to hole up somewhere. In my professional opinion," Fusae glanced at Sork. "I was instructed to place myself under your command, sir. It's your call. But her best shot for survival and the best outcome possible would be to get her somewhere static and hidden away from the storm and the soldiers."

Outskirts Spaceport, Bucket Cantina...

Faran's last words had hardly left his mouth before Koiwa was diving for the floor, throwing herself out of the way of a bolt that never came. She never saw Yana shoot the man, but she heard the rapidfire staccato of the woman's lancer howling and lighting up the room. By the time she rolled over Faran was falling, body a twisted, blackened ruin that thudded to the floor beside the bar. Yana herself crumpled as well but Nagy was there in an instant, wrapping her arms around her lover and holding her wordlessly as the Necrian came to terms with what she'd done. As Seito strode across the room to release Nigi and her kits Koiwa picked herself up off the floor and turned back to where Nax was lying.

“Anyone got some medi-gel? I think my body needs some...”

"I should give you a swift boot right up your ass!" she knelt down next to him, scowling at the old captain as she helped him sit up with his back to a table. "You old fool! Did you really think I wasn't going to come after you?" she grabbed a napkin off the table and used it to wipe away some of the blood from his face, being none too gentle about it as she looked at the gash in his head. "Oh stop whining. You'll live until we get you aboard the Luck," Koiwa settled back onto her haunches and shook her head as she thought back to what he'd said after cuffing her. For a moment she wasn't sure what to say.

The sound of sobbing distracted her, and her ears perked and her head twisted around to watch the young vixen bury her face in Nigi's chest, crying muffled as her mother wrapped her arms and tail around her to hold her close. Beside them the tall fiery-furred tod was tenderly gathering his other sibling up in his arms, muzzle morose. Tearing her eyes away, Koiwa turned back to Nax, grabbed his hand, and pulled him back onto his feet. Before he could wobble too much she caught him under the arm, supporting the woozy man despite his head of height over her. "I've got a big-ass bone to pick with you Nax, but if what you said is true we need to get the fuck off this world."

"Jikan, take Kanjo out to Nax's Luck," Nigi told her son, daughter still hugged close. "Pack a few essentials. Then we're leaving." Jikan nodded to her before turning away, leaving the bar carrying his brother. With her daughter in tow the old vixen went around behind the bar, giving Faran's body a kick on the way by, and began to empty out the floor safe.

"On the one hand, you were in on it," she came around the bar holding the younger vixen's hand, her other occupied by a bag full of valuables. Even Koiwa had to keep herself from looking away: the look she was giving Nax suggested she wouldn't have cried to see him dead on the floor with the other three. "But on the other hand, you came back for us. Can't say it equals out," her daughter sniffled, "but you still did it. Counts for something." She got on Nax's other side, helping Koiwa support his weight though she never lost contact with her daughter. "And considerin' your ship is gonna save our lives, can't hold it against you."

Korfel Spaceport, City Center...

"Is this your son?" the same tod asked. "Ma'am? We need to know what your relationship is to him. If you're not his parent or guardian we're going to have to move you into the Necrian area for evacuation. For your own safety."

"Why does she keep sticking her arm out like that?" the other looked to his fellow, tail swishing. "Is that some Necrian thing?"

"There's a bar code under those tattoos. They used alpha-numeric codes to identify their citizens. We still keep the scanners around, but I'm not sure if they'll be able to read past the ink on top. Wait here with her, I'm gonna see if I can borrow one from the Necrian area guys." With a last look at Sanjia the ICE officer turned away and strode across the terminal.

Before the tod could say anything more there came the crash of what sounded like thunder directly overhead. His eyes widened and he looked up, brown-furred face illuminated from above as the yellow blaze of missiles flew overhead and bolted away into the black sky. The howl of the rockets was set to the lower, constant thumping of 155mm guns adding their shells to the mix as they lobbed munitions high against an unseen foe. People all around huddled and murmured, many eyes raised to the show just beyond the glass that lit up the terminal like repeated lightning strikes. As shadows danced on the walls the other tod appeared around the corner again with a scanner.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" he smiled at his companion's expression and glanced up at the display that the division's artillery was putting on. "That'll keep back those militia fucks. Arm again, ma'am," he took Sanjia's arm and ran the scanner over it, then frowned. "Damnit, c'mon." Another try. "Shit."

"Are the tattoos interfering with it?"

"Might just be glitchy. Alright ma'am, you need to come with us," the kitsune tugged on Sanjia's arm, though he let her gather Aroji up in her arms before they led her away. Alien eyes watched her go as the two officers escorted her out of the crowd and they walked through the wide, carpeted halls of the terminal. There seemed to be sapients everywhere, people occupying every seat and the floor all around and even the terminal desks and chairs. Most were wet and shivering, red-eyed and haggard faces watching them go with disinterest as Sanjia was led into one of the shopping areas of the starport. Here there were Necrian faces, the people kept separate from their non-Necrian fellows with several more ICE officers and Imperial soldiers standing guard.

"Lieutenant Burr," the first tod approached a man wearing the armor of the Imperial Army, a pale human with a buzz cut. "We found this Necrian in the non-Necrian section. Unfortunately we can't read her barcode and she has no other identification."

Burr took one look at Sanjia and his eyes narrowed. "And you bring her to me? Look at her! Her feet are cut and bruised and she's soaked and almost naked and it's freezing outside! I'm surprised she can even walk."

The tod looked taken aback. "I, uh, she didn't seem that bad to me-"

"Because you're warm and dry and you have a thick layer of fur. Almost as thick as your skull," the man snorted. "I'm taking her to medical. In the meantime keep looking for anyone out of place. The last thing we need is these people fighting each other. And for the sake of the gods, if they look like this then send them to medical."

"Yes sir."

With that Burr nodded to Sanjia and took over guiding her through the starport. He didn't seem at all inclined towards conversation, face set and grim as he moved purposefully through the complex and past the masses of newly-made refugees waiting for transport. In one section they passed by a line of Necrians being led out to the metal wall on the tarmac that was one of the waiting military transports, ramps down and covered in lines of people being waved through by the soldiers. There was almost no luggage; some had backpacks, and most even less than that. Instead girls clutched purses, mothers held their children, boys held the hands of their parents and siblings, and men and women alike clenched empty fists or buried their faces in their hands.

But the worst looked much like Sanjia. These were people who had fled their homes in little more than nightclothes, wrapped in robes and blankets and curled up anywhere there was space. They were drenched, hair stringy as they shivered and hugged themselves. Hollow eyes stared out of gaunt faces, wearing the dazed and numb expressions of people who had watched their entire worlds be torn asunder in a matter of hours. Some stood aimlessly here and there, wandering without moving as their minds replayed what they'd seen and their faces glazed over.

The base's medical center proved to be a site of organized chaos. The staff had yet to be overwhelmed but there was no doubt that the infirmary was full. Infants wailed, doctors shouted, and patients screamed and cried and pleaded all around, military and civilian alike. In one bed a Necrian man screamed out for Necrisis, his Night Guard armor torn open in the front as doctors crowded around his burned and bloody stomach, while in the corner across a vixen winced as her torn forearm was bandaged and the blood soaked through the material. They slowed for a moment as a Necrian woman on a crutch shifted aside to make way for them, letting them through into an interior waiting area.

Like all the others it was packed with people, but they all moved for the power-armored Burr as he approached a table. The man signaled a waiting berrax male and took a few couple of blankets and bottles of waters, carrying them for Sanjia before leading her into one of the bathrooms. "He's going to bandage your feet, alright?" he had her sit down on a couch inside as the berrax knelt down with disinfectant and a roll of bandages. "Then you can use the blankets to dry off and cover yourself and your kit. Stay safe, ma'am," he nodded to her before pushing the door open and disappearing.

The berrax quietly swabbed Sanjia's torn feet, making them sting with the solution he applied before he wrapped them tightly in the bandages. "Not as good as shoes but it will do," he commented before standing. "Take as long as you need in here. They'll put out a call when it's time to go. Let me know if there's anything you need."

With a wan smile the reptilian creature excused himself, and Sanjia and Aroji were alone.

Joint Base Shield, HQ of the 1st Imperial Armored Brigade/6th Night Guards Militia...

Resting his rifle on the lip of the barracks roof wall, Kazuki took a moment to take stock of his squad. It had grown from the five he'd been left with to ten: an escan NCO known as Sergeant Samma to help him manage the squad, along with one Necrian Private Dregar who she swore was trustworthy, as well as a vixen medic named Specialist Miriya, a personal guard who was Private Hakim, and finally Staff Sergeant Caho filling in as the closest thing he could get to a platoon sergeant. With the new soldiers had come new responsibilities: for want of officers he'd been put in charge of a platoon and ordered to hold one of the base compounds at all costs. Now he and his ten stood in the pouring rain, the other squads spread out around them among the three dozen or so buildings to watch the roads along with their single armored vehicle, a repaired Maxellian. They could hear fire coming from elsewhere along the perimeter, but so far their area of operations had been quiet apart from the thunder of both the storm and naval air strikes elsewhere in the city.

He had seen close air support before, but it still hadn't gotten boring. The noise of a bomb strike ripping through the air was unlike any other, more guttural in all its destructive potential than any lighting strike as the missiles began to fall on the blocks outside the base. Blasts cast buildings into stark relief and lit up the sky, exposing flashes of the roiling black sky and how the rain cascaded in a slant with the wind before darkness closed over it all again save for the rising orange glow of the explosions. It was something you felt in your chest and in your core, the shocks of weapons falling that were so destructive they could be felt from kilometers away. God have mercy... he heard from Hakim as they all watched a column of flame billow into the sky from one blast site into a pillar taller than any of the surrounding buildings. Before long there were fires growing relentlessly even in face of the typhoon, their light illuminating the vast clouds of smoke and ash that rose up to fog the cold, wet air.

6 this 2 Alpha, break-break-break, came over the comms from one of the vixen sentries. We have multiple armed contacts coming down the road from the northwest. Contact imminent!

2 Alpha, 6, what is the nature of the contact?

Convoy, three times armored, say again, three armored vehicles inbound from the northwest.

His soldiers tensed and Kazuki scanned. He couldn't see them, but there was plenty of cover in his way. Chances were the sentries were seeing Night Guard Scarabs. We should move Oni up to intercept, Caho said, referring to the Maxellian, and Kazuki nodded without taking his eyes off the road. Oni, this is 7, you are to move northwest to engage inbound hostiles.

7, this is Oni, affirmative, we are moving, came the voice of the escan vehicle commander. Interrogative: armed contacts are approaching from the northwest motor pool?

Uh, Oni, standby for confirmation.

2 Alpha, 6, confirm hostile approach vector,
Kazuki's eyes narrowed. He still couldn't see anything. Even as he waited the Maxellian rumbled up the street, his sensors providing him with a view of the dull green armored vehicle as it rolled along behind his position.

Uh, 6, armed contact coming from up the road, should be coming around the bend in a few seconds here.

The bend? Kazuki thought to himself. He looked down the road that they Maxi was moving along and realized in curved off down the street in a bend leading out of the compound. The MSR to the north-northeast?

Yes! Uh, 6, that's an affirmative, along the MSR, MSR to the northeast.

There was no time to chew out the sergeant like he wanted to. There they are! Caho called out and the first six-wheeled truck came swerving around the corner and into view. Kazuki peered down his scope as it came on, centering his crosshairs on the driver's side of the windshield before he started to pull the trigger. His rifle bucked back against him and was joined a moment later by his squadmates as they opened up on the vehicle. It came to a stop in the middle of the road and figures began to jump out the back, clutching rifles and milling about for a moment as rounds began to land among them. Kazuki elevated his rifle, satisfied to see one of the Necrians drop from Hakim's fire before his grenade launcher popped off and exploded an instant later just in front of the truck. The firing was constant as a lone figure stepped away from the truck, rifle raised, and Kazuki flinched as their grenade detonated in midair just a few meters below his position. He responded almost reflexively, thumping off another grenade, only to watch his opponent be cut down by fire an instant before his grenade hit and and they were blown apart.

He was just aware of a second truck pulling up when the first exploded, the chassis seeming to jump from the force before it sagged and began to burn. The second truck had stopped well behind the first, barely visible around the bend, but the platoon was pouring down their wrath on it with grenades and gunfire. Kazuki only caught glimpses of people in long coats running this way and that through the explosions and smoke, but whenever he did he let off fresh bursts. At one point a plume of smoke seemed to evaporate and he was looking down his barrel at a figure kneeling beside a sign, rifle up as they searched for targets. A three-shot burst made them slump over before another detonation obscured his view again. Seconds later the other truck blew apart, victim of another grenade. He took the moment of respite to reload.

Stepping from one rooftop to the next, Kazuki advanced as he watched the area for signs of more movement, Hakim trotting loyally behind him. A few more weapons barked before going quiet while he swept his scanners and eyes across the glowing fires and wreckage and corpses scattered over the road. If there was anyone left alive they were keeping their head down. Gamma Mike Foxtrot, he heard Samma remark. Sporadic gunfire was still coming from the northeast so he turned his sights to there, eyeing a temple as it came into view. The structure, built mainly to accommodate the religious needs of the Night Guards, was a tall tower inside the compound. No one was atop it as far as he could tell.

6, this is 2, the vixen staff sergeant reported. Be advised there is approximately one times zero foot mobiles broke off to the holy tower to the northeast, requesting permission to engage and clear.

2, Tanto, affirmative, go ahead and move on that structure. He kept watching it for any sign of snipers, thinking that was probably where the troops in the third truck had ended up.

Copy. Wilco, 2 is moving.

Scope up again, Kazuki panned down to the base of the tower. I have contact! he called it out even as he centered his sights on the gunman crouching beside the tower wall before he opened up. The figure dropped back but fire continued sporadically as the tod shifted to one side, sweeping for any others he could find. A grenade went off and someone running flitted past his line of fire, too quickly for him to even tell if it was friendly or hostile much less engage it. Frowning again, he signaled his squad. Squad, on me. We are moving east across the street to reposition on that building's roof. As they made their affirmatives he led them down the stairs, watching the rain-speckled Maxi pass by in front before he moved his unit across and into the aid station across the street. The roof of that building provided a much better view of the tower, and even as he scanned Kazuki picked up more figures around its perimeter.

2, 6, be advised I am still picking up contacts around the tower just to the east southeast of the tower. A head popped up just over the wall and Kazuki fired, tapping the trigger repeatedly only for the figure to duck back down again. A series of explosions sounded from the other side of the compound as a fireteam came around the corner closest to his position, the Imperial soldiers moving quickly with rifles swiveling as they closed on the entrance. Before he could track them breaching in fire erupted from the north and he turned to look across the rooftop of their last position. We have contacts by the motor pool fence! he called out as infantry approached the chainlink barrier. A few shots convinced them to keep their heads down for a moment, and when one rose to try to scale the fence Kazuki let off a few bursts and watched them go tumbling back to the ground. The others had fallen prone and he kept up the fire on them, the brilliant beams of their lancers firing only earning them all the more ire of the platoon. He saw one hostile jerk where they lay and then go still, but they hardly seemed to care about casualties: the others died right where they were without even seeming to entertain the notion of retreat.

Turning away, Kazuki reloaded and looked back to the tower compound. He could hear but not see the Maxi engaging on the far side, autocannon booming as it traded shells with enemy grenades. 6, this is Oni, the Maxi's commander came in without interrupting the cannon fire. 6, Oni, be advised, our gunner is down. Say again, our gunner is down.

Copy Oni. Do you need assistance from one of the rifle squads?

Negative 6, but they need a medic. Request dispatch.

Affirmative Oni, he half-turned and nodded to Miriya. The vixen gave a quick bow and turned away, disappearing down the stairs as she made for the armored vehicle. Kazuki shifted and looked down the street to see the vehicle accelerating to his building to meet the medic.

More contacts by the motor pool! Caho was opening up on them even as Kazuki pivoted. Moving out into the open, two contacts. Three out in the open! Four out in the open! She sounded almost gleeful as Kazuki watched the figures appear from behind the pool's wall as murderous fire poured up at them. He couldn't tell if any of them had been hit but they clearly caught on to their exposure as the shapes disappeared to back behind the wall again. Others moved intermittently out into the open as Kazuki measured the distance and elevated his rifle again. About...three-ten meters. The rifle kicked back as he fired off a grenade, and he eyed the zone to smile in grim satisfaction at the gray-brown burst that went up from just behind the wall. So pretty, he thought as he fired off another for good measure.

That was a good shot, sir, private Qin complimented him as the fire slackened off.

Thank you, private. Kazuki aimed back at the road beside the motor pool and caught sight of a figure running across it, but before he could draw a bead they crumpled, hit by someone else in his platoon. Grunting in satisfaction, he stepped back and swept over to the southwest only to glimpse a head peeking up at the end of the road. Contact to the southwest! He squeezed the trigger but again couldn't tell if he'd shot them or not as the figure disappeared. But the rest of his squad and a closer squad were adding their fire in, and after a minute it petered out. There was a single lancer left by the tree at the end of the road, with the contact nowhere to be seen. Hope you wised up and went home, he thought to himself.

After that things went quiet again. They had taken a casualty in the form of the Maxi's gunner, the vixen hit with shrapnel in the arm and torso, and though Miriya had stabilized her she needed medical evacuation. Caho had put out a call for one of the Imperial Marine shuttles to come in to take the wounded, with the LZ just behind the aid station Kazuki's squad was occupying. It would be a quick in-and-out operation if all went well. With little else to do in the meantime he watched the flashes high above that signified a hovering gunship engaging some targets beyond the perimeter.

6, 1, we have three times zero and one times Scarab approaching from the south, the Greali squad leader reported.

Copy that 1.

A few beats passed. We have a lock with our Silver, she said, referring to the squad's anti-armor launcher. Getting ready to take a shot. Another couple of seconds and Kazuki watched as one of the soldiers on the rooftop down the street knelt and shouldered their launcher. When the rocket hissed out it almost immediately arced upwards, an orange-white streak visible for a moment before it bolted into the sky, vanishing into the rain. He never saw it impact, but they all heard the missile crash back down again with a shudder before a gout of fire and smoke rose from among the buildings south of the compound.

Hehhehheh, 1 chuckled. One times Scarab destroyed. Kazuki could just start to see the burning smoke starting to rise from where the vehicle had been hit before fire from his left made him turn. Another truck had appeared along the MSR, and even as he focused on it bodies dropped around the halted vehicle. He targeted one figure, fired, watched them drop, and moved smoothly to the next as the survivors jockeyed with each other for cover behind the vehicle. That ended when a grenade found its canvas-covered side and the truck exploded and promptly tipped over.

These assholes need to learn to dismount before they get in our fucking sights, he shook his head, glad that the partisan fighters were not as well-trained as their Night Guard counterparts. Almost as soon as another truck came down the road it was followed by a Scarab. Scarab, coming from the southeast! he called even as the truck caught fire from incendiary rounds. Burning figures spilled from it, the flames dancing over their bodies despite the rain, and the Scarab was just maneuvering around the carnage when the Maxi opened up. The other armored vehicle only made it a few meters before the autocannon rounds caught it, a catastrophic hit blowing pieces of armor and chassis across the field before the shells swept across and tore apart the truck, putting down and silencing everyone around it.

They had a bad day, Corporal Wise remarked, deadpan.

Scarab! Scarab approaching from the motor pool!

Kazuki turned back, laying eyes on the rapidly-approaching vehicle even as he patched Oni. Oni, Oni, you've got a Scarab northwest, three hundred meters, at the end of the motor pool. Aw fuck! He swore as the vehicle came into view, its heavy turret swiveling in his direction. Not inclined to tangle with it, the tod ducked back into the cover with his fiber-optic extended to keep an eye on it. Hakim knelt beside him patiently. The turret promptly opened up, raking buildings with heavy lancer fire as the Scarab made its sweep with impunity. In a matter of seconds it had crossed into the compound behind a group of buildings. Scarab is in our AO, count one times Scarab also moving from the motor pool!

The second Scarab had only made it about halfway down the road when another missile rocketed away from first squad's position. It was a direct hit, striking the armored vehicle top-down in the middle of the chassis almost exactly in the middle of the turret and sending the wreck skidding to a burning halt. Its fellow was either more skilled or simply luckier, sweeping abruptly across Kazuki's field of view and behind another set of buildings. A grenade detonated behind it but the vehicle rumbled forward, crushing right through a shack in its path as it turned the fury of its cannons on second squad's position. It had just nosed out from the mouth of an alleyway when Oni's cannon found it and the Scarab promptly halted, holed through and starting to smoke. A couple of figures appeared out of the cloud of dust and smoke as the crew staggered from their vehicle only to be cut down almost instantly. A grenade detonated next to the Scarab and Kazuki shook his head. All units, this is 6, ceasefire on the Scarab, it's disabled.

It was only a lull in relative terms. The barrages of artillery, the shriek of fighters and the rumble of airstrikes never ceased, nor did the rattle of Xiscapian ballistic weapons mixed with the banshee's wail of lancer fire splitting the air. Before long the burning vehicles had been reduced to smoldering piles of metal and the main light came from the flashes of explosions and the occasional lightning strike. Kazuki reloaded his rifle and took a moment to kneel. Later he knew he would feel exhausted and in pain, but for now he was still riding a high of painkillers, combat drugs, and enhanced adrenaline.

They seem like they're attacking piecemeal, Caho commented, the escan's helmet steadily scanning as she spoke. One or two units advancing from different directions at different times? I thought we trained them better than this.

They're not coordinating well with the insurgents. Seems like they were running ahead and the Night Guards were mostly trying to catch up with them. Don't think they were expecting to run into much resistance, and between their own jamming, the storm, and all the hurt Holdfast is laying down on them, I bet their communications are all fucked up. But I reckon those were just a couple of reconnaissance platoons. They'll be sending heavier stuff next.

I know they don't have heavy artillery, but what about mortars? Tanks? Gunships? asked Samma.

They don't have any air support as far as I'm aware, but that doesn't mean they couldn't modify something and try it. They don't really have tanks but they do have up-armored mobile gun versions of the Scarabs, so we'll have to watch out for those. I think they must have lost most of their mortars during the attack given that we haven't been shelled, but they might be saving them. Not sure. Either way, Kazuki straightened up and cradled his rifle, we've got nowhere to fall back to. They know we're on desperate ground. So brace yourselves.

The enemy didn't take long. 6, this is Oni, I have four times Scarab mobile gun systems on my sensors moving in from the north, say again, four times Scarab MGS inbound from the north. Pivoting, Kazuki bent his knees. Moving to the other rooftop, he signaled and pushed off, leaping three meters into the air to land on the next story and crouch behind the low wall there. Hakim joined him a moment later and as unnecessary as it was he couldn't deny silently appreciating it. He couldn't see the Scarabs behind the tree cover, but he could hear the hum of their repulsorlifts just before their guns shrieked and started to blaze off heavy lancer fire. The beams flashed over his head and one slagged a hole into a nearby building, making the roof tremble beneath him as he crouched lower. He had a general idea of where they were. Marking for CAS!

Pulling an infrared marker from his belt, the tod judged the distance -about 200 meters- and hauled his arm back before throwing. He tracked the small, dark shape even through the rain as it rose into an arc before plummeting down into the midst of the thicket. None of the militia would be able to tell that they had just been marked for an air strike, but he could see the little device lighting up on his scopes and casting its signal into the sky. Another blast from one of the Scarabs destroyed the next building down and Kazuki found himself wondering how long it would take the cannons to find his building. If they can just-

The signature low growl of an autocannon cut across his thoughts and with his fiber-optic Kazuki saw the thicket shred apart under the maelstrom before twin flashes sent it all up in an inferno. He only saw the Scarabs when they were marked by explosions, munitions cooking off and fuel lighting up to create little mushroom clouds above the burning field. Thank the Emperor for air support. He caught sight of a figure running around the mass of flames, lancer in hand, and raised his rifle. A few three-shot bursts followed and they toppled, hitting the ground facedown.

He was just looking for more infantry when Wise cried out. Scarab, to the north! Unlike the last time he found the vehicle quickly where it came over a grassy range, approaching with arrogant confidence.

Hit it with everything you've got! Kazuki tracked the vehicle as it cut across the front of the compound. It was maneuvering around the corner to come down the main street when a Silver missile smashed into it from above, sending the vehicle's turret flipping into the front of a cafe in a gout of flame. Another Scarab to the north! Kazuki turned even as he saw it. It's coming straight through the middle of town! Some part of him couldn't help but admire the sheer audacity of it, but the fact was that the vehicle had no infantry support. Even as it came down the street the squads were opening up, repeated explosions from grenades lining the road as the tank hurried forward to escape them. Its turret was just starting to swing back around when Oni's autocannon opened up from where the Maxi had been parked behind Kazuki's position. He watched the weapon chew into the side of the turret, flecking off pieces of armor and blowing out repulsorlifts to make the vehicle sag. Its commander seemed to realize the mistake, quickly pivoting the Scarab back around as they tried to pull away, but a final round sent a cascading orange glow around the armored vehicle as its fuel burned before the fire reached the volatiles and the Scarab exploded. Yes, Oni! Good hits!

It wasn't until he turned back that he realized Hakim had been hit. He hadn't even seen her go down, but there was a smoking hole in her side. The woman was curled around her wound, not even making a sound, and even as he knelt beside her Kazuki was afraid she was dead. Medic! Hakim is hit! Not waiting for Miriya, he grabbed the Arellian under the arms and began to drag her back. Even as he pulled he heard the chatter of automatic fire and the whoosh-hiss-boom of a rocket firing and impacting, followed by the detonation of another exploding vehicle. Scarab! Another Scarab to the north! Two times Scarabs to the north! He was still dragging Hakim back in view of the two armored vehicles that rushed the street, heedless of the broken husks of the others they had to drive around.

He had just gotten Hakim to the stairs when Miriya reached them. I've got her legs, sir, the medic hauled up Hakim's other end and together the two rushed her down the stairs. They had barely set her down in a room on the second floor before Kazuki heard the increasingly high-pitched whine of Scarabs getting closer and closer. One glance out the window told him everything he needed to know: the first one was sitting almost directly in front of him. This is 6! We have fucking tanks in the middle of the compound! Pour everything you have on them! A grenade went off outside as he crouched behind a window, fiber-optic poking through the shattered glass. Be advised, they are danger-close to friendly targets! The second tank wasn't more than fifty meters up the street. Growling, he whipped back. Just make sure she gets on the medievac when it gets here, he told Miriya before charging back up the stairs again. The tanks were still in the streets, far too close for friendly air support and even too close for the more destructive -and effective- options.
Bursting back out onto the roof, Kazuki looked down at the enemy armor in the middle of his base.
C'mon, think of something...
Last edited by Xiscapia on Sun Feb 05, 2017 6:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Necrisis
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Posts: 878
Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Sat Feb 11, 2017 6:23 pm

Near Our Lady General Hospital
Medrina Ave.


Shuji's words cut into her like a knife. Kelaetra, always the strong and proud, could not bring herself to meet his shining eyes. It felt as if he'd reached into her and ripped out whole chunks of her, leaving nothing but cold, hollow pain inside.
She curled herself up as tight as she could, a ball in the corner as far away from them all.

An old Necrian myth told of the Necrians being born from Necrisis and the Dragon King, Malcerane. While Necrisis gave them her kindness and passion, hidden well by the veils of tradition and duty, Malcerane gave them pride and greed and he drive to see it through.
Shuji had just slain the Dragon in her and Kelaetra did not like at just how little was left.

She didn't listen to the noises - Sork and Kurshina talking, someone on the radio, explosions and the screams of soldiers and lancer-fire alike. It was all nothing as a darkness welled up inside of her and blotted out all else.

When Specialist Fusae entered the back of the cabin, Kelaetra found that she could not even meet her gaze. Someone she would of had no trouble commanding mere minutes ago was now painful to stand against. And with that came the realization that she was utterly destroyed. She had betrayed her mother, her loving husband and now she was letting the whole SIN operation down. Her failures mounted on top of her, drowning out the rest once more.

"I was instructed to place myself under your command, sir. It's your call. But her best shot for survival and the best outcome possible would be to get her somewhere static and hidden away from the storm and the soldiers."


Sork grunted. "Call them back down. There's nothing we can do." He didn't look at Kurshina or Fusae - didn't have to. None of them liked it, but what was a small police squad going to do against that?
"Copy," Kurshina said. With a click she cycled to Praetra's com. "Alright you two. Disengage. We are pulling out."
"Ma'am?"
"You heard the lady," Sork said, tapping his own earpiece. "Pick up and drop back down. We are moving out."
"Sir, permission to be insubordinate. We have good cover and the storm's only going to make it better. We can help."
"Goddess damn it, Praetra!" Sork thumped the wheel in an uncharacteristic display of temper for a Necrian. "Get your ass and Akushi’s tail back down here!"
"With all respect sir," Akushi's voice bubbled over the comms. "Come up and make me."
"Void and -"
"Cuss me out all you want, sir. Those are my people in that hospital. I'm not leaving. Praetra doesn't want to either. We can help. We're one of the best sniper units you have out here and right now A Company needs us more than you do."
The comms was silent for a moment, Sork fuming in his seat. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily before knocking on the window. The APC shuddered as the police STADs jumped back onto the hand holds. "Goddess cloak you Praetra. You too Akushi. You're damned fine officers. We make it out of this I'm buying the rounds."
"We'll hold you to that, sir," Praetra said. "Going comms black. Goddess with you."

As the truck pulled away from the hospital, Sork glanced over his shoulder at Kelaetra. "Miss. I'm sorry if your revolution didn't go the way you planned. But you'd damned well better be telling the truth about the SIN. Because if tossing grenades into maternity wards is the caliber of soldier that's going to be dropping, I'll make sure you never see the Goddess." He turned back to the road. "I'll throw you into the Void myself."
"Do we have a plan, sir?" Kurshina said after a few silent beats.
"Yeah." Sork tapped the dashboard and a city map blipped to life. "The Aerolian Foundation History Museum. There's an exhibit there - Orbital Resistance Shelter. I'm doubting that we're the first to think of it, but hopefully it's the Xiscapians who nabbed it. We'll see. But the things supposed to be crafted to spec. If that's the case it's the safest place on the planet for when they start dropping the heavy landers."

Aerolian Foundation Museum
Parking Garage
Sublevel C


Sork pulled Kelaetra from the truck none too gently and hefted her hands into the upper-middle of her back, effectively making her incapable of resisting and forcing her to walk in front of him. Fusae and one of the STADs had fashioned a cot out of some camping equipment they'd found in the undercarriage storage, Aylana laid on it. Shuji - never having been one to carry a weapon - hoisted the cot between him and Fusae as the squad moved out.

The parking garage was quiet, empty except for their footfalls as they made their way to the lift.
“Anyone else feel like this is the set up to a bad zombie movie?” one of the Necrian officers said, sweeping her side of the garage.
“Stow the chat,” Sork said. “You can make bad jokes when we get into the ORS. Until then, we stay silent.”
“Yes, sir.”

As they reached the lift doors, however, Kurshina tapped Sork’s shoulder. “Sir?”
“Huh?”
“The power. Whole city lost it, remember?”
“Sonofabitch.” Sork jabbed the lift button in spite and turned to his squad. “Alright. There should be a generator. Hopefully whatever happened to the powergrid didn’t hit everything. Backup grid is going to be in the basement. Jenns, Poe - you two are going to be kick starting that thing.”

The Necrian and Avalan nodded and trotted to the stairwell. Sork made a few gestures and the rest of the squad dispersed to take up perimeter positions.
Sork helped Kelaetra take a seat, his demeanor softening a hair. He knelt next to her and spoke almost sub-vocally - a trait many Necrians on Xiscaian worlds had managed to cultivate to whisper without kitsune-keen ears picking it up.

“Listen,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know you want to help the motherland. You respect it; our roots, our true home. So do I.
“But the difference? I pay homage to the Dominion Under Talak, Chosen of the Goddess. Not some upstart kid playing Empress. The SIN isn’t the Dominion I knew. And I’ll not bow to it, not without assurance that it will do what’s best for the Necrian People. But you? You’re groveling, betraying your own family for it. And what has it done for you except almost kill your own mother? The SIN is not going to save the Necrian People, Tyrass. It’s going to destroy them. The KEX has never been driven off a world before. Do you think the SIN will truly be the first?”

He stood back up and went over to Kurshina, talking quietly in the dark parking garage, leaving Kelaetra to her thoughts and despair.

Outskirts
Spaceport
Bucket ‘o Bolts Cantina


Yana dumbly ejected the spent clip from the lancet, sliding a new one into place even as the ejection gases dispersed into the air. She slipped it back into the holster on her leg, and finally hugged Nagy back, letting the restrained shaking of her shoulders over take her, dry sobbing into her chest for a moment.
At long last she took a shaking a breath and steadied herself.
“I’m ok, Nagy. It’s ok. I’m ok.”
If I say it enough, maybe it will be true.

Nax bowed his head to Nigi as he let her considerable augments support his weight. “I never wanted this. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. They told us it would be a clean thing - insurrection against hostile military targets. Not kids and bar keeps. But wars are never clean. I should have known that, Nigi. I’m sorry. Least we can do is help get you and yours out of here.”

It didn’t take them long to get back to the Luck, Jikan taking Kanjo and his sister to the light infirmary/mess hall. Seito leaned against the doorway to the cockpit, while Koiwa took care of Nax’s head wound - with all the bedside manner of a thoroughly pissed off mother; tender and careful care supplied forcefully.
Nax didn’t complain though. Either he thought he deserved it or didn’t have a right to. Not now, at least. Nigi sat in the co-pilot’s chair, her eyes occasionally darting to the internal cameras, which currently were scoping the mess and her kids.
Nagy and Yana had retired to their shared room down the hall, the smell of Nagy’s overly strong tea wafting down the hall.

“Right,” Nax said at long last, feeling the eyes of three kitsune on him. “We can try to get out of here. I’d be all for that. But the fleet is out there. We try to run and they will find us. Dominion doctrine is designed to conquer - orbit down. I doubt the SINs changed that much of its operations. This isn’t a spear your navy is facing - it’s a net. The SIN just hasn’t launched the rest of it yet. There’s that minefield. But if we use our Necrian transponders, the KEX shoot at us. We use our KEX transponders the Necrians shoot at us. And I didn’t get beamed in the head with a pipe to get us all killed up there in a poof of plasma.”
“Actually, Master Nax,” Lucky chimed in. “It looks as if the Xiscapian evacuation ships haven’t left yet. We could feasibly piggyback on their convoy.”
“And get shot up still,” Nax growled, gingerly touching the medi-gel patch on his head. “Ow… is it normal for you all to be shifting about like that?”
“Master Nax, you might have a concussion,” Lucky said. “I do suggest that you seek proper medical attention. Mistress Koiwa is well versed in your wounds, but perhaps head trauma is best seen to by-”
“Canit Luck.” Nax leaned back in his chair, trying to relieve the pounding in his skull. “Koiwa? You think you could fly us out?”

Normally he wouldn’t ask. Koiwa was an accomplished pilot and captain. She’d seen her crew to safety more than once and through possibly worse than a warzone. But she had only ever co-piloted the Nax’s Luck. And after his impromptu refit at the hands of the Hetaevans, he’d promised the AI he’d never let him out of his sight or command again.
Nagy and Koiwa had both sat in the side seat, plotted course, helped him through some of the toughest straights in his long life, but this… this was different.
Not least because now she didn’t trust him.

For Koiwa, it would certainly be a shock. Nax loved her - though that was certainly in some doubt now - but he’d been stubborn about her piloting the ship.
‘His ship’.
She’d never taken the yoke - the one time Nax hadn’t even been in the seat she’d co-piloted for Lucky, but not the ship itself.
It wasn’t trust but his weird anxiety about the AI. She didn’t know the whole history - had never poked too hard at the old scar Nax had made clear to never talk about - but Lucky was too self-aware to be a standard ship AI. He had tactical and strategic compliances and some software suites that were distinctly military grade.
The one time Nax had given Lucky the ‘weapons free’ codes, she could have sworn she heard the AI laugh as he cut apart the pirates swarming them.
And Nax had his own secrets. And that had been ok.
Had.
But now, the man before her didn’t seem like the same man she’d met years ago on the Rookery.

Korfel Spaceport
City Center
Rooftop Access


Fel watched Sanjia and Aroji pulled away and into the makeshift medical area in the spaceport. Rockets and anti-air filled the sky above him and he pulled his goggles-mask combo down and slid down the side of the building, using his psionics to launch himself across the gap, riding the winds on psychic wings until he glided onto the side of a skyscraper and gripped the stone with his gauntlet talons.
He looked back once more. The spaceport was a fortified compound now and it was getting more secure by the minute. It had been no easy feat getting them in - getting out before they locked the place down would have been much harder. But at least she would be safe there.

Scaling to the top of the roof, Fel hunkered down under a overhang and pulled up his scanners.
Tapping into the jammer web, he started to look for friendly signals. He was stuck here for now - at least until the fleet dropped in. He needed something to do.
“...*static*... copy Fallow Leader? Repeat, do you copy?”
“Negative Reaper Base. Fallow Lead is down. This is Fallow Two. We are getting torn apart out here. Where’s our militia support?”
“Fallow Two, you are now Fallow Lead. Fallow Lead, your local support is not responding to hails. They are moving on Joint Base Shield well ahead of schedule.”
“No shit, Master Inquisitor! I just got shelled! Why aren’t they regrouping!”
“Fallow, I’m just the coordinator. If those NFP morons aren’t listening to my instructions, I can’t do anything-”


Fel tapped the link up and the conversation stopped. They had heard him linking in and as per Night Guard operational standards they had gone quiet. Reaper Base was likely trying to lock him out right now. Which would be hard to do, seeing as it was the Necropolis’ jammer signature Fel was using.
“Reaper Base, this is Templar Special Operator Feldrak. By Order of the Empress and the Imperial Seal I am taking command of this operation.”
Who the hell are you
Fel sneered. “Exactly. Run credentials if you want Reaper Base, but you’re not going to out-brute the Xiscapians. If the militia isn’t listening, abandon them. Take whoever follows you and regroup one click from the Joint Base. I’ll meet up with you there.”
Those are our brothers and sisters out there,” Fallow Lead said, his voice not very strong. Defiant, but not strong. He wasn’t meant for leadership.
“Not anymore. This is a SIN Forceman talking, which means the SIN has boots on the ground. And I am those boots. I outrank you now, forceman. Not least with experience. You will pull back to the designated point and you will wait for me to join up. When I do, I will take command of your Phalanx. Reaper Base, you done checking those creds yet? We have work to do.”
There was a pause. “They check out. Sorry… sir…”
“No problem, Reaper Base. I’ll be seeing you soon Fallow. Base; who else do we have out here.”
Linked in? Just Fallow Comp- ah, Phalanx Fallow and Phalanx Whiplash. We’re refitting some private civilian ships now, but they won’t last against military grade anti-air, so we’ve been restricting them to search and destroy or air-lift.”
“Good job, Base. We’re going quiet. Forcing our way into the Joint Base is going to get us killed - as the partisans have proven so far - Reaper, I need field stats now. Anyone else of rank I need to supercede?”
No, Operator Feldrak.”
Fel ignored it and continued, already on the move. “Rally snipers and able spotters. Teams of four, nothing loud or bright. Do you have any psionic capables in your squads?”
“None recorded sir.” [i]
“Pity. Artillery would have been nice. We’ll have to make do. Rockets? Missiles?”
“[i]Uploaded with field stats, sir.

Fel opened the file with a glance. Statistics flooded his senses. “Copied. Fallow Lead - get off the com. I can hear your breathing.”

One Click from Joint Base Shield
Phalanx Fallow and Whiplash Forward Base


Fallow Two - promotion was a short-lived burden for the young man - stood next to the Templar Operator, rain drumming steadily on the roof of the command vehicle. It had been an old forest clearer - big wheels, thick forward armor and pivot-arms with giant plasma saws at the end. As the Templar scanned the battlemaps they’d managed to scrounge up, engineers - both professional and conscripted - welded combat plates onto the rest of the Rumbler.
Outside another trio of trucks pulled up, disgorging a ragtag group of militia who were quickly outfitted with the most basic combat armor they could scrounge up. They were paired off into other squads - Lances, Fel kept calling them and everyone was rapidly adapting to his mode of speech - and further specialized. Heavy weapons, explosives, ‘recovered’ Xiscapian weapons were all handed out as the unstable force slowly gained a footing.
As soon as they did, however, Fel had given standing order to distribute them in a crescent-pincer formation around the Joint Base’s forest cover. Decentralizing them in case of bombing, he’d said.
And Fallow Two - who hadn’t enjoyed being talked down to by the turse Templar - suddenly found himself unable to turn away from the man.

“Right,” Fel said, glancing over the new troops outside before turning back to the table. “Any more in coming?”
“No others have followed up your signal, sir,” Fallow Six - a tall, well muscled woman with short silvery hair said, standing to attention as she spoke. “But we’re getting reports in as to more Partisan and First Party forces making their way into the Joint Base. It looks like they’ve breached the defense.”
“And got themselves stuck,” Fel snarled. “And broken up the defense wall that would have been picked by our snipers. Ok, we’re going to hold position and let the rest of them continue the attack. If we can intercept them, we will. Drag them back here kicking and screaming if need be. I’ll shoot them one by one until they cooperate.”
He glanced up at the silence and uneasy shifting. “A joke. Perhaps in poor taste.”
Fallow Six forced a smile and everyone chuckled uneasily. It was hard to get a read on the new commander.
Fel tapped the map, placing a finger on their position. “We’re going to have to be patient. Let them reset. Clear out the rest of the Partisans who are launching their own assaults. Once they think they’ve weathered the worse, we strike. I want sniper units posted and ready for synchronized and silent takedowns. When the defenders have hunkered down we send in strike teams. Heavy ordinance is to be targeted first and given priority. What do we have for mobile armor?”
“Thirteen Scarabs, varying damage.” Whiplash Leader was a short Necrian man with ghostly features and narrow eyes. “Sixteen trucks, a handful of ATVs with hot seats. Also accounting for five refitted, combat-capable civilian ships.”
Fel nodded. “Which are the smallest? Fastest?”
“Same,” came a voice from the back of the gathered commander and talon leaders. They parted to show a short woman, almost child like with smeared makeup and a fresh gouge taken out of her lip. It was going to scar badly, Fallow Two knew that much. Such a shame for such a pretty face.
Bloodwasp can get you in and out better than any of your drop ships.”
Fel smiled. “Dominion Cradles, perhaps. But if you’re the best I have, I’ll take the best. You’re going to be air lifting me and a choice few into the heart of the complex. The Temple Tower has near perfect coverage for the whole base - a sniper squad up there is terror to the rest, and if we can jump start the generator below, it will have a decent polarized-field generator. That will protect it from the personal-grade anti-material they have. Tanks will be another story, but it will give you time to jump the tower. It’s not integral for the plan, but we will hold it as long as we can.”
There were murmurs all around and Fel stood tall once more.
“Listen up. I know this is a lot to ask. The SIN is demanding your lives, your families, your future. But you have answered thus far. And the Kitsune Empire is not going to take you back. But you are not trapped. The Solar Imperium of Necrotia has a fleet in tertiary orbit right now. The SIN will bring you prosperity and safety. It will bring you home. And should you fall, know that you will rise again by Her side and your earthly vessels will fight on and on until the enemy is crushed.
“The KEX has long sat as a dominant power in our stretch of the Galaxy. They have looked down at us as children, infants crawling about with no purpose. But now we bite back and we will take a chunk of flesh with us. It’s time the kitsune and the rest learn that the Necrian people are not a race to be melted down into numbers and warm bodies.” He pounded his fist to his chest. “We are Necrians and we fight for the Empress, the Empire and the Goddess!”
Fallow Two found himself standing, saluting in the old way, his courage soaring. They could do this.
They would.
As one, the commanders and talon leaders pounded their chests with a flat hand. “As One we are Legion; as Legion we are Whole”

Fel watched the soldiers file out into the rain. It was easy enough to lace his words with psionic persuasion. He wondered idly if they could tell. They certainly had never heard the motto of the SIN’s infantry corp until just then. Necropolis’s cadre of psionic battle meditations must be incredible to reach this far into a gravity well.
Would he believe it one day, not just spout the rhetoric?
Perhaps. When this was all over. But by then he’d know the truth of it anyway.

Fel’tethra System
Inner Defense Field
“The Thick of it…”


Rilaena sat down on the command throne, tossing her battle cloak and skirts to the side, crossing her legs imperiously. Her face was set. News of Faeden’s ‘death’ was being kept hushed for now, but the old shadow-drake was letting rumors trickle out, drop by drop. Only a handful of people knew the man was still alive.
She didn’t like it. She’d come to rely on his advice and guidance. Not being able to consult with him before a battle was… strange.
I’ll make this fast for you old friend, she thought. When this is over, you can come home to the Palace.
“War Master Fash,” she snapped. The aged man stood from the middle of the sensors pit and looked up at her. “Are we ready for Phase Two?”
“With but a stroke, mi’lady.”
Rili tried not to make a bad pun and nodded. “Let loose the hounds of war, Fash. I want to see SIN signatures on the ground in one hour. Necropolis. Arc when ready.”

A signal rippled through the fleet, followed by a physical seething of ships as squads broke and reformed, bays opened and fighters reassigned.
The breakaway squad was about thirty strong - not counting the sixty or so fighters and bombers that sprang ahead of them to clear the mines and the swarming clouds of lancer-wasps that whirled around them.
Lead by Immaculate Honor - a massive Dragon-class battle cruiser - and its flanking dozen Ghast frigates. A pair of Heavy Cruisers - sister ships, Wrathful Mother and Dragon King - matched the core of the battle group, guarding the Hydra-class carrier at its center, along with various support ships and a quartet of Balista frigates.
As they split from the main fleet, the Balistas opened fire on the ships and stations in orbit over Fel’tethra, scars of brilliant crimson crashing into shields and sweeping across defensive lines.
Fighters and swarmer clouds hung back, waiting for the Necropolis’ Arc Array to fire. The silent cascade of raw plasmatic energy ripped across space once more, tearing a swath in the mines and lighting up a few swarm clouds that looked like they had been caught out of position - only for them to chain the arcing energy back towards the central path of the fleet and to further mine clusters. A sacrificial move to extend its reach further than before. Even as the mines let loose against the fleet, forcing some into retreat and other to buckle where they lay for scrap, the detached battle group’s fighter compliment dove into the gaps, taking out what mines they could as they tore towards the defending KEX line.
As the Balistas let loose another volley - joined now and then by the core fleet’s own siege units as they came into range - the fighters let the Wormwood bombers take point. Flashes of heavy energy fire tore into the closest enemy ship - each ‘energy javelin’ eerily similar to the KEX mines, though significantly less powerful.

As the fleet pressed on, the Gythian ships on the outer reaches of the mine fields pressed harder against the daunting energy traps. While they didn’t have as much coverage at Rilaena would like, the interdictors would make it hard to get much offworld before she could drop the Spires. It was a deterrent, a show of force designed to look like the maximum amount of effort.
Hopefully the KEX took the bait and ran with it.
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

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Xiscapia
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Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Tue Jun 13, 2017 6:25 am

Aerolian Foundation Museum
Parking Garage
Sublevel C...


"Power's back, sir," Poe's voice crackled over Sork's radio. Kurshina glanced at him, fingers drumming against the barrel of her carbine while her tail swished.

"Sir, I know you said you don't want us splitting up, but if there are bad guys up there then we don't want to walk our whole squad into them. Not with a wounded and a prisoner," the vixen looked over her shoulder at Kelaetra. "Even if I wish she'd give me a reason."

"What are you thinking?" Sork asked.

"Poe and I will take the stairs up to scout it out. If there's anyone waiting for us we should be able to move quietly enough to keep from alerting them, and if they're friendly then us not being Necrians should go a ways towards convincing them of that. Either way we'll be able to tell you what we find in advance. No more surprises."

The captain barely had to think about it before nodding. "Do it. Quickly."

"Sir," Kurshina turned just as Poe and Jenns came back up the stairs. "Poe, you're back up again. We're doing a little reconnaissance." The Avalan simply nodded before falling in beside her. With a last look back at the group Kurshina pushed the stairwell door open and took point.

It was almost completely dark on the stairs, their path lit only by dim emergency lighting, but with the kitsune's acute vision she led them swiftly to the first floor of the museum proper. A look through the door's window revealed an empty hallway beyond, so they slipped through to find a map of the complex. Rain beat down on the skylights overhead and completely obscured the world outside with sheets of water mixing with the inky blackness as Kurshina consulted the floorplan and found the room where the Orbital Resistance Shelter had been set up. "We'll approach from the left," she tapped the display room next to the ORS. "Should give us more warning than them."

The pair crept through the halls of the museum, passing by glass cases and roped-off squares displaying countless artifacts from Necrian history. Here there was a mock-up of a Wraith drone, there an Honor blade dating back to the Fall of the Second Era from some long-forgotten noble; ancient lancers, ritual phase staffs, ornate suits of armor, a nasty-looking contraption apparently used to deliver poison, and more. Despite herself Kurshina slowed, dates and names going by her eyes as she scanned the relics and facsimiles. Poe spoke her thoughts for her. "A history of violence."

"Yeah. I wonder what number civil war this is."

Both quieted as they drew closer. The double doors to the ORS exhibit were open and Kurshina halted just beside them to take a knee and lift her snout into the air. Her nose twitched as she inhaled, taking in the scents. Compared to the chaos of the storm and fighting outside, scent-tracking inside the dry, climate-controlled confines of the museum was kit's play: it was immediately clear to her from the stale smells that the institution had been closed for the past couple of days. That made the trails going to the ORS stand out all the more. She closed her eyes.

Fear, wet, smoke...Necrian smells. Wait. She frowned a little as the lilac scent reached her. Kitsune. Tod. And...boolean. Kurshina opened her eyes and looked up at Poe. "I think we're alright."

He nodded and she stood. "In the Orbital Resistance Shelter," she called out. "Imperial, or SIN?"

A beat passed. "Cáo?" someone called back.

"Dạ. Chúng tôi đứng mười ngàn năm."

"Chúng tôi đứng mười ngàn năm," the relieved voice replied before a tod poked his head out of the bunker-like structure. He was bedraggled and soaked, gray brown-mottled coat mussed and verdant hair in long tangles down his back, and yet still good-looking in a gracile sort of way. "Is it safe to come out?" he asked, switching to Common.

"No. Fact is, we're trying to get more people in there," she approached cautiously, craning her head to try to see around him. "How many do you have in there?"

"There's six of us," came a female voice before a sharply-dressed Necrian leaned in beside the tod. Her yellow eyes gave Kurshina and Poe a once-over. "I'm Azor Tan. Director of Finance and Operations for the Aerolian Foundation. How many are with you?"

"Fourteen."

The woman nodded. "Plenty of room. Do you know what's happening out there?"

"Poe, go ahead and radio Sork that it's safe to come up. I'll fill these guys in."

Minutes later the elevator arrived and the rest of the group entered the exhibit area. Shuji and Fusae were carrying Alyana between them once again, with Sork guiding Kelaetra just behind and the rest of the STAD officers in a brace surrounding them. "Two on watch, we'll rotate every four hours," Sork said and two of the troopers broke off to guard the doors while the others piled into the ORS. Azor was sitting to one side with two men, one a human in a suit whose tag indicated he was a curator and the other a Necrian watchman with a lancer pistol strapped to his thigh. A boolean woman was sitting off by herself, knees tucked up to her chest and the hairless green dome of her head shining with water, and finally there was the tod Kurshina had spoken to leaning up against a young Necrian man on the far side. They all stared as Alyana's stretcher was carefully borne in, followed by Kelaetra, Sork, and the rest of the officers.

"It really is her," Azor whispered the words, eyes on Alyana.

"What do we do now?" the tod looked up at Sork.

"We wait this thing out."

"I mean what happens when morning comes and we're under occupation?"

"I have an idea about that, actually," Kurshina looked at Sork. "Sir. Once things calm down we're not going to be able to move freely anymore. But since you killed the station chief I don't think anyone knows that we've gone rogue. So I think we can get around that by having the non-Necrians pose as prisoners, and the Necrians as their captors. You should have the authority to get us through any roadblocks."

"Yes, but where would we be going?" Poe asked quietly.

"We need a safehouse," Kurshina bit her bottom lip. "Can't use any of the ones the force has set up, they'll be bound to check them. Can't go to my place, it's registered under my name. They'll bust it if they haven't already. And they probably think you're dead, and we should keep it that way," she glanced at Sork.

"I think I can help," volunteered the Necrian from his place beside the tod. Everyone looked at him but he didn't hesitate. "I own a penthouse downtown. If we can make it there it would fit all twenty of us, easy."

"Won't need to be all twenty," Kurshina mused aloud. "Once we get there the Necrian officers should disperse to their own homes. Keep things from looking suspicious, and that way we'll have ears on the inside. And not all of you need to come," her gaze swept across Azor and her guard before she looked to the young man. "You three should be fine if you just stay here for a while after that before making your own ways home."

"You'll need me to give you directions and get you inside," he immediately countered.

"No, they don't," the tod looked at his fellow. "I know the way and I have the codes, Kalex. You don't have to risk it."

"Yes I do!" Kalex huffed. "Look," he met Kurshina's eyes, then Sork's, his own golden orbs flashing. "My father made me go to NFP meetings. I never agreed with them but I didn't have a choice. I know how they act, and I know damn well that they don't give a shit about laws, Necrian or otherwise," he was staring Sork down. "So you might be a captain, but if we hit an NFP checkpoint and you have something they want, they'll just take it. But if I'm there I can get you around them. They won't fuck with me."

"What makes you so sure?" Kurshina folded her arms across her chest.

Kalex paused. "Because I'm the oldest child of the Yavine family," he said finally. "We head the Plantation And Vineyards Consortium."

"You want us to hole up in a house PAVC owns?" Kurshina scowled. "What if your family or some corporate thugs come poking around?"

"I've been fucking Eikichi there for two years and none of them suspect a thing," he couldn't help but blush a little even as the tod smiled. "We'll be fine."

"Well," Kurshina heaved a sigh. "Fine. I guess it'll do temporarily at least."

"Try to get some rest, all of you," Sork motioned to Kurshina. "Except you. We need to figure out exactly how this is going to work..."

Outskirts
Spaceport
Bucket ‘o Bolts Cantina...


“Koiwa? You think you could fly us out?”

The vixen looked at him. In spite of herself she didn't know what to say. At last she said the only thing she could. "Alright," Koiwa gingerly slid into the pilot's seat. It wasn't overmuch different from the co-pilot's seat, but it still felt strange. She took the controls and exhaled as she automatically went to make the pre-flight checks before stopping herself. Sometimes you just don't have the time.

"Lucky, make sure our transponder identifies us as Xiscapian," she instructed as she pulled up on the yoke. "Won't make much of a difference to be Necrian-flagged if fighters shoot us down before we even make it into orbit." The Luck shuddered as she dragged the ship out of the sinkhole, engines grumbling in protest as the frame wrenched free of the wet earth. Koiwa steadily lifted it into the sky, grimacing as the wind buffeted the freighter and the rain lashed all the harder at the cockpit transparasteel. Another pull of the joysticks and the ship began to rise nose-first into the storm.

"Before we go," Nigi leaned up to put a hand on her shoulder. "Turn back and face the port."

Koiwa did as the older vixen asked, smoothly pivoting the transport around to aim the bow at the little collection of buildings. The main port building and cantina, control tower, maintenance shacks, and storage building were all dark, huddled and lonely against the storm. Nigi stared at her business, utterly still save for her eyes. They roved over each structure in turn and hardly blinked, as if she were committing the place to memory. "Destroy it."

"What?"

"This piece of junk has lancer cannons, doesn't it?" Nigi shot her a look. "Destroy the spaceport. Every building. Faran wanted it for himself, and for good reason. I ain't gonna let it fall into the hands of a bunch of apes. Leave nothing for them to use."

Koiwa turned back. It only took a motion to activate the Luck's weapons, lancers powering up before crosshairs appeared on the screen before her. She started with the tower, lining up the reticule and firing at the base for brilliant scarlet beams to lash out into the foundation. It crumpled within a minute, and each building that followed collapsed just as quickly under the heat of the energy beams that disintegrated walls and caved in roofs until there was hardly a wall left standing. There was little left but for a few smoking piles of rubble.

"It's a better tomb than they deserve," Nigi scoffed. "But it'll do." With that she sat back, muzzle set in a hard line, and Koiwa turned the ship about again.

"If the fleet's not too close we shouldn't have a problem getting out," she said, eyes focused on the instruments. "We'll reach the curvature of the inhibitor field way before they do. If they are close, well," the kitsune glanced at Nax, "I think you're going to have to do some fast talking so we don't get turned into space dust. That or we duck back down into the atmosphere. I wouldn't like it but-"

She cut herself off as she felt the ship tilt. "The fuck?" Koiwa yanked at the joysticks, trying to correct their trajectory, but the drift only increased. "Lucky, lock that shit down!" Koiwa snarled as she fought with the controls, trying to wrestle the ship higher even as gravity seemed to tug it down all the more. "That sinkhole must have done more damage than I thought, shit," she pulled again but nothing happened except that the ship fell away all the more. "I can't do anything! Fuck, fuck, fuck," she swore repeatedly as she belatedly pulled the crash webbing around herself before slamming a fist onto the ship's intercom. "Nax's stupid ship is fucking broken, everybody strap yourselves in because we're going down!"

As Nigi and Seito scrambled to secure themselves Koiwa tapped furiously at the panel, running diagnostics as she tried to locate the source of the problem. Half a dozen indicators came up, everything from microfractures in the engine housing to disconnected wiring. Nothing that was going to be repaired in a hurry. "Shit-" the curse had barely left her mouth before she caught sight of a tree rushing up at them and the freighter rattled as they slammed through it, all four of them thrown hard to one side as the Luck smashed into the ground and ran a long, shuddering groove into the ground. Koiwa's claws cut into the armrests of the seat from holding on as the ship's belly scraped through the underbrush until it finally came to a halt.

Koiwa started breathing again. The crash could have been far worse, but it seemed they and the ship were all still in one piece. Outside the cockpit there was nothing but dripping greenery, and a check of the ship's GPS told her they'd crash-landed in the jungle well south of Korfel. "So much for that," she kicked the underside of the control panel before she started to unstrap herself. "I guess you get to stay in this shithole after all, Nax."

Korfel Spaceport, City Center...

"Drop your bags! Do not bring your luggage with you! Do not stop unless told otherwise! Drop your bags! Do not bring your luggage with you! Do not stop unless told otherwise!"

The call was sent out repeatedly over the automated loudspeaker as it had been for hours, blaring into the howling storm that had encompassed the city. There were already duffels and suitcases scattered on the ground around where others had been forced to abandon their vehicles, if for no other reason than due to the streets becoming clogged with people moving by foot. They streamed past Imperial Marine Lieutenant Satoma's station in a huddled gray mass soaked with water, the mob more like a creature itself than the individuals who made it up. On occasion he saw a non-Necrian, a kitsune like himself or an escan or some other, but the vast majority of them were the tall, pale-faced figures in cloaks. He wondered if the Night Guards and the militia even knew that most of the refugees they were making were Necrian.

He could watch them go by from his platoon's HQ at the base of one of the city's many temples. The priests and priestesses were already harboring a number of people ranging from the homeless and orphans to those too sick or frail to move, and occasionally someone, usually a mother with a child in her arms, would push out of the crowd and ask for help to be admitted into the temple's basement where the clergy were tending to their people. The unit's medic, Specialist Taira, was down there with them. Satoma didn't like his medic tiring himself out before they got much of a chance to see combat -the first militia had either died quickly or scattered like roaches when their gunships touched down- but until that happened he didn't have the heart to call the younger tod off. Grimacing, Satoma glanced around at the rest of his little command squad in the entrance hall.

The fact was that he only had two of them: his platoon sergeant, the xenan woman staff sergeant Holt, and his communications specialist and bodyguard, the escan corporal Ulris. He had no doubts about the loyalty of his forward observer, Sergeant Ichorson, as that came fairly easily when he'd watched the Necrian used his DMR to burn holes through a couple of militiamen who got too close to their checkpoint, but they'd both agreed that it might be better if he stayed up in the temple tower. For the most part command of the ground lay on Holt's shoulders, a fact which the sergal seemed keenly aware of as she checked and rechecked her rifle. He couldn't blame her for being anxious: she had more experience than he did. Perhaps she knew better.

Things have been pretty quiet so far, Ulris remarked. Satoma couldn't see his face, but he could tell that the escan was looking at him.

So far. What I've heard is that 1st Armored is taking the brunt of it. Got pretty much the whole 6th on their tails plus a bunch of insurgents. I hate to say it, but it's good that it's quiet here. Means they're putting up such a good fight that they're drawing down those assholes around here from earlier and chucking them into the armored troop's meat grinder.

So do you think we actually all stand a chance of getting out of this?

Holt scoffed at that, finally unable to hold her peace. I doubt it.

What? Why? The lieutenant seems to think we're doing well.

That doesn't matter so much, the xenan shook her head. The fact is that the division's still cut in half. The infantry guys here and us can't break through to the armored guys and the rest of the marines at the base on account of the evacuation for us and the entire fucking 6th for them. Even if they did somehow breakout and made it to us and we loaded on all the civvies we were supposed to without too much delay and the garrison fleet can hold them off long enough, we're still loading onto the ass-end of the very last transport out of here, squeezed in like a drakon's cock up a veela's asshole, praying to any god out there that we don't all get torpedoed to hell. One little thing goes wrong and we're fucked -so we're fucked.

Satoma sighed. Sergeant, would you kindly not deliberately demoralize my troops?

I'm just telling him like it is, sir. You know that.

We'll hold here regardless of what comes. Maybe we die. Maybe we don't. But we're going to get as many of these people out of here first, and when those scuts out there finally show their faces, we'll show them what real warriors look like, Satoma glanced at Ulris. I can't promise you glory, or that you'll be in one piece, or even that you'll live. But I can promise you that we'll fight hard, and we'll fall well, with honor. Because it's a thing worth doing.

There was silence over the link for several moments. Way to make me feel like an asshole, sir.

It's true, though, Ulris looked to Satoma. We have the mission, right? So we do that. Worry about the other stuff when it comes.

Yeah, and try not to die, alright? Holt looked between the two of them. I'm not the only non-fatalistic one here.

And try not to die, Satoma agreed. The objective is to make the other guys die for their cause instead.

He looked back out over the seemingly endless stream of people. It wasn't the combat that he wanted, that they all wanted so badly, but there was something else to it. Every minute that passed and the enemy didn't show up was another minute that meant more people were getting aboard the transports that would take them to safety. That was a fine sacrifice for patience, he thought.
And eventually, one way or another, the cowardly traitors who caused it would have to come for him and his Imperial Marines.

Joint Base Shield, HQ of the 1st Imperial Armored Brigade/6th Night Guards Militia...

Just when he thought the situation couldn't get any worse Kazuki saw something that made his heart sink. An IR beacon was lying next to the building of the rocket team across from him, its strobe flashing away on a spectrum only visible to the right sensors -specifically, those of Imperial forces, including bombers. It couldn't have been more than thirty meters away, almost right next to the Scarab, far too close. Who threw that fucking marker?! We have no comms with our CAS, we cannot abort that support! It's danger close! Fucker, he switched over to the weapons squad's comms. 1, this is 6, you need to get out- shit!

He actually saw the missile drop in, falling at an angle and moving so quickly he barely caught the shape of it before it smashed into the other side of the street with an explosion that shook the building and made Kazuki stagger as a plume of dust and smoke rose into the air. Damn it! He rushed over to the ledge, peering through the cloud as gunfire and the rumble of engines kept up all around him. The Scarab seemed to have vanished, perhaps deciding that danger close applied to it as well. We have to get over to that building across the street, there were people on top of that! The smoke was starting to clear as Oni pulled up, the IFV boldly moving out into the road under Kazuki's watch. Even as that happened he could see movement from within the ruined aid station as dark-armored soldiers pulled themselves out of the small building's rubble. Looks like most of them are okay, thank the Emperor.

A moment later Oni's launcher roared as he both heard and saw the ATGM impact from the blast of smoke that went columning into the air just a few buildings away. One Scarab down! He straightened a little, letting his scanners and 360 degree vision sweep all around him. Lost track of the other one though. I don't know where it went, last heading I have for it is off to the east, I lost eyes on it. He was all but interrupted by the chatter of a heavy lancer firing and Kazuki turned around, edging to the opposite side of the roof top.

That's definitely a Scarab firing, Caho called. There was a few trees and a block of buildings between them and where the firing was coming from. Kazuki's ears perked as he stared into the rain, watching both his sensors and his environment. Its repulsors flared and he saw the shape of the vehicle peek out from an alleyway. I have eyes on, to the southeast! It's at 0160, in the field. He peered through his scope, just able to see the old Dominion flag that it was flying from its communications vane. It was starting to flutter, he noticed, and he realized it was moving. Be advised, southeast, about one hundred meters, moving right to left! Kazuki caught sight of the flag again as the IFV crushed a small tree in its path. It's about to be on the road! He's popping out on the road now.

The tod had just backed away from the rooftop when he saw Oni coming up along the street. It was a beautiful sight in itself, the Maxellian moving quickly and smoothly over the road to bounce up into position just as the Scarab turned the turned. Almost instantly the missile shot out even faster than Kazuki's eyes could track and the burst of smoke that flew up from the Scarab was tinged with orange. Shit! he exclaimed, recoiling back in spite of himself as the explosion shook the building and himself. For a moment he couldn't figure out why it had been so intense until he looked back and saw the scorched plating the lancer blast had left on the IFV. Oni got hit!

The vehicle's crew weren't stunned, almost immediately turning their Maxi around with its autocannon blazing at its opponent. Kazuki could hear his troops adding to the fire as well, thumping out grenades and firing at the exposed systems on the vehicle where it sat in the street, still in contrast to how the Maxi slipped back into cover. Sucking in breath, Kazuki darted back along the rooftop to see if he could get a better angle on the hostile vehicle, accessing his friendly vehicle's comms at the same time. Oni, 6, I saw you got hit. What's your status?

Before the vehicle commander could respond Kazuki saw the Scarab slip forward a few meters before the burning vehicle blew apart. He had an instant to appreciate the sight before something slammed into his chest and he staggered back, only barely able to save himself from falling with a whip of his tail. I'm hit! He let his rifle slip onto his shoulder, the sling catching it as he grabbed the frame of the door to lead downstairs. He could feel his lungs straining, an ache in his chest as the painkillers and medical nanites went into effect, but it wouldn't be enough. Miriya, I'm hit. I need medical attention. His armored gauntlet held onto the railing as he eased himself down the steps and into the hallway below, breathing labored.

In a moment Miriya was there. He lay down on the floor as instructed, though that didn't keep him from extending his fiber-optic up to the window to peer out. Oni was sitting on the lawn behind the building. Something exploded outside, though he couldn't see what. Looks like you took some shrapnel, sergeant, the vixen waved her scanner as she checked his cybernetic diagnostics. Might have been from that Scarab blowing up. Good news is that it didn't hit anything vital, but you're going to be feeling it. You should be fine as long as you give your implants time to do their work and let your body push out the shrapnel. In the meantime, she pried open his chest plate, I'll do what I can.

Thanks doc. Kazuki winced a little as he was exposed to the open air. He didn't mind the cold, or even not being armored necessarily, but the contrast of having his open wound airing out while the rest of his armored body lay on the floor just made him shiver. Oni, what's your status? he repeated to the Maxi as he watched it start to roll away.

Uh, 6, Oni, it's all green. We are looking for contact from the northeast.

He could hear more firing but it was distant and beginning to slacken off. You picked a good time to get hurt, sergeant, Miriya commented. Kazuki just nodded, listening to the reports from the squad leaders and others on the makeshift platoon's communications. There were still receiving occasional fire from some of the trees but it seemed like it was harassing at worst, just designed to not give them any peace rather than represent a real threat. Oni was moving up to take care of the snipers. A truck appeared and Private Dregar clinically described how it and its squad was dismantled by the autocannon of an orbiting gunship, leaving nothing left but wreckage and body parts. Kazuki was able to allow himself to lie there as Miriya checked him, and feel a moment of pride. They were surviving.

----

Hours Later

----

XIS Revan, Bridge...

The waiting was the worst part. Calo could feel the dread rising from inside him at the sight of the oncoming fleet, outnumbering his own combined garrison twenty to one, unstoppable in both numbers and firepower. Yet being able to observe the enemy for those several hours had kept the Flotilla Captain and his task force busy as their scanners recorded how the SIN drones and fighters flew among the minefields while the Necropolis cleared a path with its strange energy weapon. Sensors took in where mine grazers struck on various enemy warships, resulting in some resisting the blasts, others fracturing as parts were torn away, and a few pickets and frigates on the perimeter falling away gutted where mines had escaped detection. It wasn't nearly enough to stop them or even to slow them down much, but the data being stored and streamed back to command, mixed with packets aboard FTL-capable drones, would prove invaluable for later analysis of Necrian tactics, technology, and disposition. He could at least take comfort in that.

Sixty minutes until the launch of the Daisho, sir, the escan communications officer reported, referring to the third of the evacuation transports.

Calo swore, though he was disciplined enough to keep it off the network. The previous two troop carriers, along with a host of shuttles and other small craft from the warships and traders, had been able to evacuate some 85,000 people -but that was only a little over half of the conservative targeted goal of 150,000. It would be overloaded to over four times its normal capacity, but if the Daisho could be given the time to launch it would save the lives of another 40,000 people. Still enough to fight for.
He looked at the enemy with a new eye and pulled up the reports available to him.

Analysts aboard the Revan had gotten plenty of time to review scans of enemy ships in action, compare them to the database of known warships and technologies, and come to conclusions. Sections of the fleet were wholly unfamiliar to them, and in the cases of many of the Hetaevan ships and the co-designed Balista frigates only the general kind of technology was known, but there were still a number of the old-style Necrian ships in the fleet and even the new classes could still be categorized with recognizable features and capabilities. The KEX's intelligence agencies had gotten technicial specifications on many of the Dominion's ships even before it withdrew into isolation, and the Reactionaries warships they had inherited afterwards provided thorough knowledge of their capabilities. They knew certain things would work to their advantage: they had a huge edge in intercepting and jamming communications and scanner readings, they knew the advantages and disadvantages of the enemy ships and their technology, and they had gotten a generous amount of time time to prepare. Calo hoped that it would be enough.

Sir, the Necropolis is falling behind in formation.

He didn't need the thought-spoken words of his instruments officer to know the implications. Calo could see the SIN fleet reforming, a new fleet taking the lead to be joined by a wing of strike craft that streaked in among the swarms of drones that covered most of the warships. Nearly twice the number of Fel'tethra's garrison came on, capital ships included, and even as the long-range fire began to come in and the flotilla began random-walking to avoid the flaring lancer beams the Necraopolis lashed out with its weapon from within the sheath of its escorts. Mines and defensive platforms blew apart under the strikes, disintegrating to become expanding clouds of metal debris and superheated gas through which more lancers were pumped. Several beams from the artillery frigates impacted the Revan, making her shields glow gold from the first before one bore through and shook the light cruiser. Calo only heard distantly that the shot had fused one of the hangar bay elevators closed -with their squadrons in atmosphere and all of their transports taken in the evacuation they had no useful small craft left anyway. What was important was that the Necropolis was not taking the risk of exposing itself. Instead they were sending a fleet in to mop up his smaller, weaker force ahead of the main invasion.
We need to change tactics.

In a way Calo was relieved. The chances that his flotilla could have significantly damaged the supercapital were small, and even then only likely at the cost of the total destruction of the Xiscapian force, but it was enough to make whoever was in charge think twice about exposing even that mighty flagship to danger. The odds are still against us, but we can hold out for longer if we play this right, he told his bridge crew, eyeing the oncoming formation. It's the best we can do, but by the Emperor we'll do it. Already the bombers that had taken point were running into trouble from the weapons platforms grouped in and around the flotilla, combining their firepower with anti-proton blasts and missiles that homed in on the ordnance-laden craft and added fire to the airless darkness. The destroyers likewise maneuvered to intercept, the swift hundred meter pickets spraying their own walls of fire, and for better or for worse the surviving squadrons began to angle attack vectors on the screening force.

A mine burst to life with all the violence of an ambush, boring a breach into the hull of a Homage frigate that snapped the little ship in two. As the halves separated the ship it had been escorting, a Spirit support frigate, turned on to the newly-made wreck in what was probably a bid to rescue survivors. The other protecting frigate turned with its charge, not quickly enough -the Spirit had hardly reached the site before another silent nuclear blast pumped a grazer beam directly into the bow, chewing a long breach all the way through to the stern that gutted the vessel in the blink of an eye. The final frigate wisely kept its distance as swarmers clouded the volume to clear it of mines, but the damage was done: the short range jamming it had been providing for the fleet was gone, and with it the fleet's main source of ECM.
A plan formed in Calo's mind.

Prepare to fire decoys, he watched as the fleet's Tradition cruiser pulled ahead, keeping pace with the Immaculate Honor and a Portent destroyer close behind, both attended to by a pair of Homage frigates and a large bubble of protective drones and fighter craft. This was right out of a Necrian fleet commander's doctrine: they had no more wish than the Necraopolis to take casualties, so with the Portent and frigates covering it the Tradition would "fire on full" by dumping all available power into its turrets, shield generators, and War Minds for drone coordination, hoping to finish the fight quickly. Calo had no illusions, the full firepower of a Tradition could decimate his flotilla, but such an energy expenditure could leave the ship vulnerable. So as the cruiser lined up his own flagship for targeting the Revan's hull rippled with missile fire, each carrying a decoy jammer that would help confuse the enemy with false readings while electronic warfare suites across the flotilla flooded local space to jam Necrian communications. Almost as an afterthought Calo gave the order and the Revan shifted, elegantly drifting its arrow-like way a few hundred kilometers distant in time for the show.

The Tradition unleashing everything it had was a spectacular sight, with over one hundred fifty lancer beams and hundreds of drones filling the volume with the sort of heat and energy usually reserved for small capital ships to savage the emptiness around the decoy drones. The enemy had scored no hits whatsoever, not that they would know that as the decoys appeared to be the Xiscapian flotilla charging into combat, and with no communications it was impossible for anyone to tell the fleet otherwise. Calo stared intently as the Tradition finished spraying fire, aware that this was the most critical stage. It would now shift to backup generators, but those generators had a tendency to fail, and if they did now the cruiser would be without power for at least fifteen minutes.
Enemy power signatures have gone offline, ma'am, the Karaigan informed Captain Europa.

We have them now. Open fire on my command-

Belay that order, Calo transmitted without looking away from the screen. Here comes the Portent.

Indeed, as the escorting frigates covered their Tradition the Portent surged ahead in a bid to protect the smaller cruiser. A decoy masquerading as the missile cruiser Krosis moved on the Tradition and the Portent promptly used its own trump card on the would-be threat. The cruiser's Plasma Emission Tube spiked in energy and shot out a roiling mass of plasma contained in a magnetic packet. Tactical, lock onto that weapon's signature with our tractor beams, Calo ordered. It was unorthodox, a flotilla captain giving orders directly to his flagship's bridge crew, but the kitsune officer didn't even blink as he and his den of ensigns got to work. After a tense few seconds the tod signaled.

We have it under control, sir.

Excellent work. Target their carrier.

Aye sir.

Under control of the Revan's tactical officer the torpedo abruptly changed course, turning about and racing back into the Necrian formation. Normally it would have stood little chance of making it through the network of drones and point-defenses but all Calo had to do was sit back and watch his bridge crew coordinate. His berrax communications officer signaled the destroyer Gunsel, which broke off from its formation and swept in to snag the torpedo with its own tractor beams. Emperor protect that commander, he thought as he watched the Gunsel boldly dive into the middle of the Necrian fleet with the enormously destructive weapon in tow. Between the three of them the communications, tactical, and the cruiser's dingo abhuman electronic warfare officers talked the commander through it, guiding them around the worst threats while the destroyer's guns took care of swarmers and fighters that wandered too close.

It was incredible to watch the single blue sprite representing the Gunsel among the sea of enemy red without the destroyer taking fire, but again the jamming ensured that most craft could not accurately detect the ship and those closer drones and interceptors that did were vaporized before they could report back. It helped that the Gunsel avoided engaging wherever possible, the little ship entirely focused on guiding its deadly payload on a course for the Hydra command carrier sitting in the center of the formation. Sensor feeds piped back from the destroyer let Calo watch in real time as the plasma torpedo was guided closer and closer to the battleship-sized capital ship that dwarfed the picket that all but scurried up to it. If shi pulls this off it will be the next Matsuyama Maneuver, Calo realized, remembering the famous attack by the titular captain. Only it won't win us this battle.

Even so when the time came it went flawlessly. One of the bays of the Hydra yawned wide to let a squadron of bombers spill forth and the Gunsel slipped her torpedo directly into the hangar, annihilating the entire formation before the plasma struck deep within the ship. The destroyer peeled away as the Hydra visibly shuddered before columns of flame burst from the carrier's hangars and airlocks, every hatch blown open as the ship burned from the inside in a raging firestorm. It began to break up and when the bridge crew cheered at the sight of the enemy flagship slowly disintegrating neither Calo nor Europa made any move to quiet them.
Inform Commander Ameryuu that shi has made the Empire proud today, Calo told his comms officer. Now focus, everyone. We're not nearly done.

He was satisfied to see that the once grand formation that the fleet had taken had turned into a confused mess. Both of the heavy cruisers that had been escorting the carrier had pulled up alongside to do what they could to rescue and salvage from the derelict while the half dozen frigates that had been doing the same clumped together, tentative and mostly static. Most frigates were scattered throughout the volume between the carrier and cruisers behind and the trio of cruisers at the front. Even the Immaculate Honor had faltered, deprived now of orders in addition to communications and accurate scans while drones and fighters repeatedly swept through the mass of decoys as they attempted to figure out what was real and what was not. Only the Portent jumped ahead, advancing in front of the helpless Tradition in an effort to engage the flotilla.

Frigates to engage that cruiser, Calo ordered. Krosis on those long-range frigates, destroyers and corvettes to attack targets of opportunity. Captain, he looked to Europa, the Tradition cruiser is helpless. Lock our tractor beams onto it. We'll ram it into the battlecruiser.

Europa stared at him for a moment before grinning, making the spines framing her face flex. I think we can manage that, sir.

Numerous graviton waves seized on and dragged the immobilized Tradition and began to drag the warship. All the while fire erupted around the Revan as the flagship's task force went to work, the Krosis spewing hundreds of missiles at the distant Balista frigates, and as many as they could pick off from range the sheer weight of rockets turned all four into fireballs. Nearby the Marchamp frigates Ammut and Ranseur joined their shields together, Auton and Anubis following suit as each reinforced the other to square off against the Portent and its frigates. Lancer blasts, swarms of drones, particle beams, and heavy shellfire were soon being traded as the cruiser and escorts focused everything it had on Ammut, each side focusing on a single target. The Xiscapian frigate broke first, fire eventually making it through the shields to savage the subcapital, and with a final flare the connection was snapped, the holed-through Ammut drifting back from the force of the fire to hit Fel'tethra's atmosphere and begin its long crash into the jungle. The Portent and its trio got no such grave: the remaining three frigates poured their arsenals into the little squadron even after both Homage ships were breached and drifting and the Portent was dark and had ceased firing, pounding away until there was no longer one deck connected to another in a ball of broken steel and radiation.

With new signatures to focus on the Necrian fleet moved in, the Immaculate Honor leading the way flanked by the Wrathful Mother and the Dragon King, each with their own quartet of escorting Ghast frigates and a couple of other frigates types trailing. It was only when the Tradition cruiser rose closer that someone on the battlecruiser seemed to realize what was happening, and by the time the lumbering ship began to try to turn out of the way Calo's flotilla had formed another attack pattern. This time the two sides traded fire on more relatively equal terms, though with the Immaculate Honor trying to change direction and the Xiscapian ships still random-walking only a handful of ships were blackened by lancer fire before the Tradition cruiser smashed into the underside of the Immaculate Honor. At first the lightly-armored bow just crumpled into the hide of the capital ship, but as soon as the lancers impacted the detonations began. Calo felt his lips part as he watched the cruiser wedge itself into the belly of its larger fellow, and then the reactors went. The same power that had allowed for the firing on full erupted all at once, and something inside of the Immaculate Honor, perhaps its own set of reactors, produced a catastrophically large energy spike. The explosion was so bright that the shields on the Revan glowed angrily, and when that began to fade he saw that the cruiser and all four escorts had all but ceased to exist. Of the Immaculate Honor there was little more than scrap, bits of the prow and stern turning end over end in a field of ready-made salvage.

This time they had no chance to celebrate. Both of the heavy cruisers and almost all of the remaining frigates were rapidly clearing the remains of their fellows, superstructures lighting up with weapons fire at the same time that the Revan desperately launched another volley of decoy drones. The Wrathful Mother quickly became so busy filling the volume of decoys with lancers and missiles that her point-defenses failed to react adequately to the Krosis as the missile cruiser salvoed its entire ready payload into its target. Pieces of armor and hull ablated where the torpedoes went past the shields, burrowing deep between seams in the armor before their detonations wracked the vessel to eat away at the inside even as missiles hailed down from the outside until the Wrathful Mother simply began to fall apart. Her Ghast frigates were in little better shape as they made poor matches for the better-armed Auton and Anubis, hulls cracked by R.E.A.P.E.R. weapons and sloughing away to expose vital systems to heavy shells that simply punched through and out the other side of the ships.

On the other side the Dragon King had fallen victim to a series of mines, the machine programming intelligent enough to mass the weapons to take on a larger target and giving the heavy cruiser a gaping breach over a hundred meters across in its hull. The surviving four Ghast frigates quickly maneuvered to group around the wounded heavy cruiser as the flotilla pressed in. Despite being holed and still dazzled by sensor baffles and deafened by jamming the Dragon King was still lashing out, and as the Ranseur tore one of the Ghast ships to pieces a heavy lancer flared, burning into the destroyer Driven amidships and instantly crippling the picket. As one of the Xiscapian frigates moved to assist the stricken Driven the Dragon King earned the ire of the remaining destroyers as they poured particle beam fire through the gap past the remaining Ghast ships, instantly irradiating and ionizing the interior of the heavy cruiser to sicken the crew and short out its electronics. A few torpedoes turned the Dragon King into a burning husk, and with one of the Necrian frigates having fallen victim to the guns of the Revan the last two Ghast battered Ghast ships turned to flee. They were set upon by the trio of ICE ships, perhaps simply eager to get kills of their own, and the corvettes and destroyer closed in like wolves before their torpedoes sent the escorts tumbling and shedding entire decks as the fires tore them apart.

Calo finally felt like he could breathe again. The advance force seemed to have been defeated. Good work, he turned to look around at his bridge crew. We've bought the Daisho and the troops on the ground enough time-

Before he could finish the sentence the cry of contacts went up. Four frigates edged around the hulk of the Dragon King, having approached so stealthily that they'd only been detected among all the debris and jamming at close range, and Calo realized that they'd all been tagged previously -the two Homage escorts of the Tradition, the Spirit frigate's escort, and a final unrecognized heavy type that had been at the rear of the formation the entire time. Hetaevan, he realized now that it was closer and he could see the name that had been all but stabbed into the hull of the ship: Maw of Thr'vak. They were coming in at full speed.
Ramming speed.

Engage! Europa was already yelling over the link and every ship that could opened up. It seemed as if in seconds the frigates were joined by every spare swarmer, bloodwasp, and fighter left in the volume as they all dove to intercept missiles and run interception. One of the frigates fell away and was annihilated in a flash, and another was simply blown into several pieces when a heavy shell from the Revan hit it directly, and still the last two came on. The last Homage took a torpedo meant for the Maw of Thr'vak and Europa barely had enough time to call Brace for impact! before the Revan trembled and bucked violently. The shaking didn't stop, only lessening before it intensified as Calo hung onto his chair for dear life.

XIS Krosis, Bridge...

Captain Anthony Lanzel watched open-mouthed as the Hetaevan frigate's engines burned brightly and it sank a little deeper into his squadron's flagship. The Maw of Thr'vak was only a hundred meters shorter than the Revan and it showed as they powered forward together, the larger cruiser's superstructure strained by the armored prow boring into it. All the while heavy weapons were chewing into the hull, throwing up bursts of debris and ripping away chunks of systems as they got closer and closer to the moon. He felt helpless: there was no way his ship could target the Maw of Thr'vak without also damaging or destroying the Revan, and with no fighters or transports available his only option was tractor beams that the Hetaevan frigate had stubbornly resisted.
All that and the fleet was bearing down on them.

Sir! his escan comms officer signaled. We've managed to get a patch from the Revan!

Send it!

The red-furred xenan turned expectantly to his view screen, but it remained blank. When the message finally popped up it was simple text:

Captain Anthony Lanzel, you are hereby ordered to take command of the Imperial Fel'tethra Naval Garrison as I will shortly be unable to discharge its duties. Do not attempt to help the Revan. The rest of the fleet is minutes from being in range and I do not want the rest of my spacers to die for no reason. Those who make it to escape pods may still survive on Fel'tethra. Take what remains of the garrison and retreat with the last evacuation transport.
For Emperor, For People, For Xiscapia.
-Flotilla Captain of Space and War Calo Ayez, Kitsune Imperial Navy


A heavy weight settled in the sergal's stomach as he read the last words. What Calo had just achieved would undoubtedly make him a Hero of the Empire, and he was asking Anthony to abandon him to his fate. Yet the flotilla captain was right, and with fewer, damaged ships and lacking his guidance they would last for mere minutes against the entire armada. There was little choice. Inform the flotilla, he inhaled as he stood from his seat, tail weaving slowly. We form up with the transport and make for the curvature of the inhibitor field until we're at a safe distance from the Necrian fleet.

As the confirmation came over the link Anthony turned his attention to the flotilla. The remaining three frigates and five destroyers formed up with the destroyer, two corvettes and interdiction frigate of ICE, most of them battle-scarred but leaving behind far more wreckage of their enemies. They all had a good view of the Revan falling out of orbit over Fel'tethra, the light cruiser breaking up and burning while it shed escape pods into the atmosphere, the Maw of Thr'vak nearly as damaged as it finally broke off to limp around the curvature of the moon. Against the backdrop of the Revan burning as it fell the Daisho rose, and Anthony gave a silent bow for his lost commander and only issued a prayer that he had survived.
Then the Daisho trembled.

No. Anthony stared as a plume of smoke rose from one of the airlocks of the transport, hanging suspended in midair as if trying to decide whether it should continue onward. Then with a sort of slow grace the Daisho began to fall, an explosion bursting out of the ship's hull before it turned on end and vanished back beneath the clouds of the spiraling typhoon. Anthony heard someone say that it must have been sabotage but he couldn't even process the word, only gazing at the spot in the storm where over 40,000 people had just fallen through to their deaths. Tears clouded his vision and he turned away, raising an arm to his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. At least the flotilla captain never knew. God, it was all for nothing!

It was only when he noticed his bridge crew staring at him that he realized he'd said it over the neural link. Swallowing hard, Anthony straightened up. We need to leave this system, he said, sounding braver to himself than he felt. Now. There's nothing more we can do.

He watched as the garrison fell back, the inhibitor field moving with them and the interdiction frigate away from Fel'tethra. As they went they fired their last shots, ensuring that the deserted orbital station and the remains of the Revan,
Ammut, and Driven were all destroyed so there would be nothing left to salvage. The weapons platforms and the remote-controlled fighters in the city would be a nuisance until the fleet and drones inevitably overwhelmed them, though the mines would likely continue to take their toll and it was virtually impossible to completely purge the system of sensor drones. Whatever else happened, the Kitsune Empire would have eyes on Fel'tethra.
With a command the frigate's interdiction field dropped and the flotilla jumped away.
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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Xiscapia
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Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Tue Jun 13, 2017 6:25 am

Joint Base Shield, HQ of the 1st Imperial Armored Brigade/6th Night Guards Militia...

As much as Kazuki had wanted to get up as soon as Miriya had finished his chest the motherly vixen had insisted he stay down. She hadn't seemed so motherly when she held him against the concrete with both hands to keep him from sitting up, but in the end he was glad he'd given up. It gave her a chance to look at his hip and arm wounds from earlier as well, freshening up their sealent and injecting a fresh dose of regenerative stimulants to help his body heal. For a little while as he lay there Kazuki hoped that the quiet meant that the renegades had finally thrown their last at them and there could be peace. Yet he didn't expect it. By the time Miriya eased back and sealed up his leg plate Kazuki's platoon had just settled in from the latest sniper attack.
He had only just emerged back onto the roof when the cry went up.

Gunship! We've got a gunship approaching, coming in from the west, over the motor pool! Kazuki peered up through his scope and there it was. The ship was clearly not originally military in nature, its long, fat frame marking it as a freighter of some kind, but with the craft approaching so boldly through the storm he had little doubt that it was armed.

Gunship coming in, say again gunship coming in, engage engage engage.

Fire erupted all around Kazuki as he watched the gunship drift in an almost lazy curve. That it wasn't looking to engage them only became clear when the whoom-hiss and a flare came from its inside as it sent a rocket hurtling into a different part of the base to erupt in an explosion. It jerked forward eagerly, as if it had smelled blood in the water, only for a black-yellow burst to blow apart its tail. The gunship fell with grace, continuing its curve in a way that looked controlled as it banked low, but it was only when it tried to turn and swing about wildly that Kazuki realized the truth. It lost its rear propulsion! The hauler dipped in a long, slow spiral, fire following it all the way as the pilot desperately fought for altitude before actually managing to gain it, the vessel just as quickly pulling high again. Oh fuck him, Kazuki heard someone say.

It turned about again, still spinning, and Kazuki's eyes widened as he watched a rocket burst from its housing again, streaking into the ground not too far away. There was no possible way the crew could accurately aim: they were just looking to go out with a bang. Oni, Oni, go ahead and engage that thing if you can! Kazuki called. It's in a dead spin, try to engage it. The gunship was hovering lower then, looking more stable up until a line of autocannon fire stitched its way across the hull in orange flashes. There you go! He watched as the gunship dropped, falling so slowly that it was an easy target for the Maxi to follow it down, and yet despite the shells and gunfire exploding all around the pilot actually managed to land their increasingly pockmarked transport into the street. Now that it was at ground level and closer in the armed merchant was immediately lit up by the platoon, grenades lobbed in and gunfire rattling off the sides until Kazuki finally relented. Ceasefire! Ceasefire.

Before he could get a close enough look to tell whether the catastrophic damage had killed the pilot another call went out. Another ship, other ship, other ship! Be advised, we have another gunship coming over the motor pool! Kazuki had only just caught glimpse of it when the vessel's cannons flashed and a lancer blast obliterated one of the buildings behind him. Shit! he crouched low, keeping hold of his rifle as he watched it come in. Another blinding flare and he saw it impact Oni, the burst shaking the vehicle and making it go still. Be advised, Oni is down! Say again, Oni is down!

The gunship swooped low directly over his building and Kazuki ducked almost instinctively. Fuck! He turned his scope, watching it pass with evident impunity. He could hear Caho screaming for the platoon to engage and as the craft swung around again they opened up. It was skirting the compound as it came back around, perhaps to check and make sure that the IFV was destroyed, when something streaked down from above as if the storm itself swatted the converted merchant from midair. Kazuki watched openmouthed as it exploded and dropped line a burning stone before raising his scanners. He could just make out a Shuriken disappearing into the clouds again.

Got a direct hit with the cannons, someone said with clear satisfaction. They could all hear the rumbling boom and the crackle of glass and metal crumpling when it hit the ground somewhere outside the perimeter. Exhaling, he looked down to the right and laid his eyes on the remains of Oni, the Maxellian now little more than a metal funeral pyre for its skillful and courageous crew. Contacts by the gunship! He swung around and sure enough there was a group of figures creeping over the crest by where the gunship had landed.

Kazuki shouldered his rifle and let off a burst, gratified to see a burst of red spray from one's chest as he dropped. The other two stood there, weapons raised, and even as he watched another crumpled as they were hit in the head. The third finally seemed to wise up, falling prone into the grass, but it was too late as fire ripped up ground and flesh alike. Letting off a grenade for good measure, he glanced up in fear as he heard the sound of another set of engines but after a moment he recognized the gravitics of an Imperial transport. Got that medievac coming in! He turned back, not even looking up to track the shuttle, and scanned the perimeter. That was when the brilliant red flash flared up and Kazuki automatically fired in that direction. They're at the treeline, they're hiding in the thickets! Due north! Even as he called them out another thick lancer blast streaked up into the sky. Staring down his scope, Kazuki held his breath, searching for the Necrian with the anti-air weapon. Another dazzling beam drew him and he found the soldier all but rapid-firing the shoulder cannon, at least until Kazuki set his sights and began to pull the trigger. This one was smarter, hitting the ground as soon as his fire came in, but before the AA gunner could crawl away Kazui saw him jerk, blood gushing from his side, and he lay still.

Eliminated one AA gunner, keep that fire up! He was aware of the transport landing practically right beside him in the courtyard, the long sleek ship settling into the grass as soldiers hustled the wounded out to be packed aboard. Kazuki spared a glance for the shuttle and stared: it was undamaged with only water clinging to its sides, without a burn mark anywhere on it. Can't believe that crazy kit didn't even get hit. But now the fire was intensifying from that side and from the opposite side beyond the tower in a new attack. He was just turning back when he saw a red burst from the motor pool and a lancer beam went sizzling into his hip. Kazuki fell with a scream, clutching as his rifle as he collapsed onto the rooftop. Medic! he could hear the medievac shuttle's engines pulse as it lifted into the air, a large, dark mass rising through the rain beside him as his hip burned in agony.

Can't stay here, he realized through the tears. Sniper team at the motor pool, be advised! His scanners instantly provided him with another excellent reason as a third gunship dipped out of the storm, lurching down at the medievac shuttle with malicious intent. Kazuki watched it as he dragged himself across the roof, silently cursing it while fire blazed up at the incoming hunter. Its lancers lit up the night but at the same time the medievac's own gunner replied, autocannon ripping and roaring in response as it lifted away. He was so caught up in watching the confrontation that he almost stopped moving, but a moment later Miriya was there and tugging him down the staircase to the landing. She'd only just laid him down again when he heard a violent crash and explosion from outside.

The medievac!?

No sir, they managed to shoot down the gunship, came Caho. Wait, shit, there's another one! Ancestors, it's right on the tower!

Kazuki could hear it even over the din of automatic fire and the explosions that shook the building and reverberated through his aching chest and stinging hip to make him gasp. We're taking fire from two sides now sir. We're holding them but that transport is right over us!

6, this is 2, the staff sergeant in charge of the tower broke in. Be advised we have a hostile transport directly overhead, believe it to have landed a squad-sized force at the top of the tower. Have lost contact with the sharpshooter team stationed there. The enemy is currently trying to fight their way down to the bottom. I noticed there's some generator rooms down there, they might be going for those. Urgently request reinforcements.

That's the polarized-field generator, Kazuki grunted in pain as Miriya salved his wound. 2, do not allow them to reach that generator. Destroy it if you have to. I'm bringing my squad to you, together we should be able to fight these bastards off. He groaned again as he sat up, tail swishing feverishly as he switched to Caho. Sergeant, take command of the perimeter defense. I need to go root out an infiltration.

With Caho's assistance he got his squad on him. His remaining soldiers gathered around Kazuki as he braced himself against one wall, rifle hanging off one shoulder. If these had been normal circumstances he would have already been taken off the field, but he knew the reality of the situation. He wasn't hurt enough to justify it, and even if he was, there was no way he was going to leave his troops. He knew that they all knew that too.

On me. 2's squad is fighting for the tower, so we're going to help make sure it doesn't fall into these bastards' hands. Let's go.

They filed out into the typhoon, weapons up as the squad stuck to the building before darting across the lawn to the next piece of cover on the street. The platoon was mostly positioned on the second and third floors of various buildings, raining down fire on attackers who were trying to advance across the ground, and that seemed to give Kazuki and his soldiers some respite as they made for the tower. They could hear gunfire from within the tall, elegant structure, ballistics and lancers alike, but it was impossible to tell who was winning. Just before the courtyard gate Kazuki stopped and poked his fiber-optic around. Confirming that it was clear, he waved his squad forward even as he whipped around himself and forced his way through the door.
Rifle raised, the kitsune led them on.
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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Necrisis
Diplomat
 
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Founded: Jul 26, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Necrisis » Sat Jun 17, 2017 2:48 am

Fel’tethra System
Orbital Defense Field


Rilaena watched, as grim-faced as the rest of her bridge crew as the forward spear was torn to shreds. Information relayed back to the Necropolis - jamming set ups, weapons stats and ships cross-reference - even as the Hetaevan battlecraft plowed into the Revan and the rest of the KEX formation broke, turning tail after shattering the orbital station.
"Cowards," Fash snarled, his boney fingers tightening on the back of the command dais. "Wouldn't even stand to defend their world."
"I'm sure propaganda agents are already writing your speech," Rili said, quietly. "There's no reason for them to risk their lives, Fash. That seemed to be their flagship, their rallying point. I doubt the new commander wanted to tangle with the Necropolis."
Fash growled. "Right. Well, we don't have the time to question their honor. Move the fleet into orbital range, intercept everything leaving the surface. Necropolis will move into sub-orbital position over the city, drop ships and Spires prepare for insertion. All clouds are on minesweeping ops and I want a full blanket of ECM over this system. Get me a direct line to the forward commanders and have the Spirits prepare to sweep for survivors..."

Rili stood and let Fash continue his monologue of orders. She wasn't a commander. She was a soldier and her place was down there, with her husband and their men.
Not that a single goddess-damned fool would let her anywhere near some practical armor.
It had been so much better, on the verge of the Veil, fighting Yddrian scouts and the monsters they brought to bay...
Now, the strange men and women in their golden armor were waiting in the wings, waiting for her signal.
"Best keep them out of it, for now."
Rili started as the Gyth phantom materialized next to her, a blue hue of hologram and foaming nanite seeming to step out of the wall.
Gyth lacked a psionic signature and Rili had yet to find a good way to detect their presence.
"Aelthena," Rili said, nodding curtly to the Gythian Intelect. "Don't sneak up on me. I fucking hate it."
"Such language for a queen." Aelthena fell into step with Rili as they continued down the hallway, leaving the command bridge behind.
"Empress, and I'll speak as I damn well please." Rili saluted a troop of soldiers as they jogged passed, each bowing a head in respect. Behind them a pair of Hetaevans in heavily modified Halberd armor thundered in step to the Necrians. "What is it?"
"You asked me to moniter the battle and come to you with any findings."
"And?"
"By all accounts, you lost several capital ships to a simple jamming and interference web. And one of your vessels was destroyed by a phase torpedo that-"
Rili held up a hand and stopped. "No."
"Empress, Rilaena," Aelthena said, her voice the saccharine sweet of a mother speaking to a petulant child. "If you do not let me and my people know how your systems work, there is not much I can do..."
"The ARCON keeps too much from the Thanes," Rili said, folding her arms. "If you want system access, we need more than a promise of good behavior."
"And if you do no let us in, then we can't stop something like that happening again." Aelthena's form shimmered as Rili swiped a hand through it, getting right up into Aelthena's face.
"I will not be extorted, ghost. And, if I find evidence that it was your kind who fucked with the telematry on those ships, caused the deaths of a few hundred people, all to get access to something-"
"Something I need access to in order to - as you so delicately put it - 'fuck with'." Aelthena flickered out of existence, leaving only a whisper of blue sparkling trails.
Rili sighed, rubbing her temples. Other problems. More problems.
Who knew running a goddess-damned empire would be so hard?

Her comm. unit blinked, a small tone going off inside her head. Willing the connection open, Rili heard a voice that made her heart ring.
"Beloved, just got the go-ahead from Fash. Last time I'll be able to speak to you before we kick in the Pit's walls and paint them red with kitsune blood.
How goes the battle? I've got mixed reports.
"
"Aeda. Goddess, I don't know. Fash said it was acceptable losses, but it looked like we lost a lot more than that." She paused, looking around before realizing that she was alone in the main ventral shaft that ran the length of the ship. Quietly, she caught herself before whispering something personal over the channel. "I... I'm worried. This war's going to be bloody, it's going to cost a lot of lives and I don't know if... Aeda, I've send men to their deaths before, but not on this scale. Every part of me is telling me, screaming at me to just let the blood flow, but then I think of you and... her. And I don't know. I feel like there are no bones in my legs and I..."
"Rili, hey. Slow down." Aedallen's voice was low and soft, but full of the charm and strength that had swept away with her soul only a few years ago. "Remember. It's not blood on your hands. We all made a choice. We made an oath in your name, in the blood of our bodies, to serve and die. Don't worry about justifying it now. Worry about that later. The victor writes the histories, remember? And that's for scholars and the Thanes. You are Empress,
my love. You have to worry about leading us to victory, not why we started the bloody war in the first place.
"
"I'm not going to pretend that made me feel better, Aeda," Rili said, but she smiled.
"Then just think about our daughter and the world you're looking to craft for her. The path of good intentions is stained with blood. You're father knew that. He made some mistakes along the way, but he's brought about one of the great eras. Don't worry about what history will say. I have to go, beloved.
Final call and a commander cannot be late to his own roll call. I love you. See you on the ground.
"

And then he was gone.
Rili took a few steadying breaths.
He was right of course. The time for plans and worry was done. Now she had a war to win. And she couldn't do that from the ventral supply shaft of her flagship.
Her place...
Her place was on the bridge.

Hetaevan Battle Frigate
Maw of Thr'vak


Alarms screamed through the tight halls as Reorc shouldered the launch pack and checked the seals on his helmet. Signalling his packmates to make for airlock, he caught Kruuva's eyes. The kitsune half-breed was massive compared to his brothers, but still only came up to Reorc's sternum. Even so, the 'runt' had proven himself over a dozen times in single combat, and a dozen more since his inclusion into the Imperial Shock Corps. A Necrian hefted himself onto Reorc's pack and clacked helmets.
"We've got an automated path set," Tolth said, yelling over the klaxons even as Reorc made for the airlocks himself. "It will bring us into atmosphere and then leave the ship in a stable orbit. Things basically a junker now, if it wasn't already. We might be able to flag it for recovery."
"You're too sentimental," Reorc laughed, double checking his gear before signaling for a round of 'go's from his pack. He watched the half-breed do the same, before giving him an all ready sign from across the hall. "Let it fall upon our enemies if it so chooses."
"Remember, these enemies might be Necrian. You will double check target IFF, and you will make sure to offer mercy to the wounded and surrendering."
"I went through you're basic 'acclimation' courses, Commander Tolth. You have our assurance that we will do what we can to spare the ground as much blood as we can. But I am not putting my men in jeopardy because of some fool notion that war can be merciful. You're Empress will learn that against these warriors. The KEX will not surrender. I look forward to the blood baths ahead."
He reached behind him and peel the Necrian off like one would a pet and put him into the arms of a large female, Reorc's second.
"Strap in paleskein. We have a four minute jump time. With this wind and storm we are going to drift a fair bit. Don't loose sight of your packmates. We are Strong! We are the Maw!"

The battlecry resounded across the comms and the Necrian was hoisted into a harness on the woman's front armor plate. Pressure vented from the room and the airlocks opened.
Reorc loved high altitude drops. Hetaevans in general had nearly perfected the HADs, and with Necrian technology and sighting, it had only been made easier.
And Reorc wanted the honor of being first on the ground.

With a collective roar, the two packs jumped from the ledge of the battle frigate, just as its underbelly skimmed the atmosphere, leaving a glowing trail behind it. Twenty-four Hetaevans laughed and one Necrian screamed as they plunged to Fel'Tethra's surface, approaching the storm faster than any sane creature should while in atmospheric freefall.

Behind the battle frigate, other Hetaevan ships rallied and prepared for insertion, while the massive fleet slowly spread across the hemisphere like a horrible blanket. The Necropolis had started to launch landing craft, and some of the larger ships were trying to get readings from ground forces and NFP units to prepare bombardment. But the dreadnought didn't stop there. Even as ECM fields and jammer webs launched, it continued forward, slowly turning so that it 'belly-flopped' into the planet's atmosphere.

Reorc watched the massive ship cut into the atmosphere, powerful shields flaring even as the planet's very air fought back.
And then they hit the storm front and all he saw was lightning and black clouds.

Necropolis
Deployment Bay 6
'Spire' GDH332 'Black Tower'


Daliha scanned over the checklist one last time. Her unit was part of the irregulars, along with a Necrian mercenary/miner company and some disorganized pirates cobbled together out of pardoned prisoners from Necrian internment worlds. Of course, Hibiki's unit wasn't some scummy merc band. They were soldiers, veteran warriors with the scars to match.
It made Daliha nervous sometimes. Hibiki clearly thought she was worth it, thought she could handle it. And after the War, maybe she was.
But that didn't stop the old doubts from bubbling up sometimes.
So the woman busied herself with checklists and keeping herself from direct eye contact with the rest of the unit. The three day trip aboard the Necropolis had been amazing in itself, but it also meant that she and Hibiki didn't have to leave the 'Phalanx Master's' quarters until they felt like it.
Nothing like a little heat before battle to remind her that she was safe with Hibiki.
Daliha glanced up at the length of the Spire. Inside the command unit of one of those monsters didn't hurt either.
The Spire - nicknamed 'Black Tower' by the Irregulars that Hibiki commanded - was folded into storage right now, but in a few minutes the signal would flare and they'd load up, only to sit and wait for them to drop a few minutes later.
She knew the Necropolis must be entering atmosphere by now, but the ship was so massive there was nothing - no shudder or flickering lights from gravity shift, nor rumble from atmosphere on the hull or shields.

She stood, stretching out some kinks and knocks she’d taken from their last bout of ‘play’ and glanced over at Tav and Vesha.
The silver haired twins she had once squaded with were once again outcasts, taken in by those who weren’t afraid of risk and reward.
Of course Master Hibiki remembered them, but their current situation was… different.
They sat by themselves, largely ignored by the rest of the Necrians on the ship and avoided outright by some of the Xiscapian ‘Orphans.’
Tavetha sat behind Vesha, brushing her long silver hair, humming to herself. Vesha sat, motionless, her once gorgeous jade-emerald eyes hollow, glowing dimly with blue light. Her armor was patched together - quartermaster refused flat to issue fresh armor for a ‘walking corpse’ - and they hadn’t pressed their luck.
Daliha had never got the full story from Tavee. The twins didn’t talk much to start and now one of them could barely form coherent thoughts, sending the other into a near self-destructive spiral. But the war had taken its own toll on the twins.
If the situation was normal, Vesha would have been sectioned off with the rest of the Hollows and Tavee discharged for mental rehabilitation.
But then Vesha had demonstrated automation. Self-thought and acts of preservation, all so they could stay near each other. Even crude sign language.
Very crude sometimes.
Daliha had been the one to advocate their reinstatement and Hibiki had been willing to give them a chance.
Some of the soldiers had taken to calling them ‘Corpse Girl’ and ‘Necro,’ but - to Daliha’s surprise - the Jouan-Rou had taken a shine to her. It was a sign or some such to them, a symbol of Necrisis amid all the loss and pain.
So Vesha sat there, still and cold as a statue, while Tavee took care to brush the silver hair that had not been burned but by the nanites, oiled skin that had long-since calcified. Sometimes Daliha swore that Vesha’s eyes still flickered green with jade, just like Tavee’s heterochromatic blue and green eyes.
She didn’t always know how to feel. On one hand it was sweet. On the other, it was strange to care for one of the walking dead, though they were there to protect the living.

Daliha started slightly as a shadow fell over her. She looked up to see Tarska, the Jouan-Rou's leader. The merc band was chartered by the Throne itself, giving it a bit more credibility than most, but the customs of the 'Black Wolves' made her nervous.
It was mostly the teeth.
Jouan'Rous often underwent massive body modifications - sometimes large scale tattoos that told of battles or matters of love and honor. Others chose to cut off pieces of their flesh and offer it to Necrisis's ancient blood rites, replacing them with machines.
Tarska had made Daliha queasy the first time she'd seen him. His lower jaw had been replaced by a well oiled and polished machine part. When he spoke, it would sometimes part at the point where two mandibles should fuse, and this would reveal the deadly looking fangs of titanium and steel that had replaced each of his teeth. They were like needles, and she'd heard that he even had poison glands installed, making him even more like the snake-wolves he was named for.
Yet, the strange smile he offered made her only cringe in discomfort. She knew from personal experience how it felt to have a jaw dislocated.

"Running your numbersss again, little lady?" Tarska said, squatting next to her. "Sssomehow I doubt your preperationsss will lassst the sssetting of the sssun."
She just nodded. "It's just... something to do, Tarska. Are your men ready?"
"Yesss..."
"Good."
Tarska cocked his head to the side, forcing her to catch his gaze. Those pale green and gold flecked pools were almost hypnotic and she found herself shaking her head before stepping away. The Necrian man hissed out a laugh. "Well, be sssure to check up on the Hollowsss. I heard your lady friend isssn't too happy about usssing the dead as shock troopersss. Not that I'll be worrying about that." He paused, seeming to mull something over before throwing caution to the winds. "Did you...? I mean, itsss not my busssinesss, jussst curiousss..."
Daliha's thoughts shifted to the syringe in the little black box in her bag.
She hadn't told Hibiki about it. The kitsune was a practical sort, and while she might not like the Hollows - few people did - she wasn't one to look tactical advantages in the mouth.
But when it came to her 'little lilly,' it was very different.
They had both watched soldiers die during the Usurper's war and... turn. Peeling flesh, glowing veins and eyes, the strange sweet stench of rapid decomp and the singed scent of reconstruction and metal-fossilization.
Daliha didn't know if Hibiki would want her to do it.

The conversation was cut short as sirens hooted once, the bay's lights flashing red then back to clear.
The time had come.
Daliha knew she would see Phalanx Master Hibiki on the Black Tower, but she'd secretly held out in the hope that she'd see her before war began afresh.

Shouldering her gear and hefting the medical supply crates, she joined in the soldiers joining ranks and filing into the lift that would set them aboard their massive dropship.

Several Hours Before...
Nax's Luck
9.5km South Korfel


"I guess you get to stay in this shithole after all, Nax."

Nax didn't respond as Koiwa barely cast him a look as she checked on Nigi. They had all grabbed their crash webbing in time, and the ship had made a descent landing all things concern.
A bit too decent, if anyone would ask him, but as of now, he seemed like the last person any of them wanted to talk too.
He stood, wincing, and made his way over to the readouts.
"Luck?"
The intercom 'pzzt'd and popped. Text rolled across the screen before him, in the co-pilots seat.
Code: Select all
It seems that I have suffered significant damage to numerous systems. I would reference the sinkhole that I was forced to remove myself from by a moderately... talented pilot.

"Be nice," Nax muttered, as he tapped the screen to bring up a diagnostic. "Give me a run down and set tools aside to fix..."
Code: Select all
Gladly. Unfortunately, It seems that I suffered a fuel leak as well. Perhaps from a nearby exploding cantina. I am reading at less than 2% PlasGel.
 Not nearly enough to get us out of orbit, let along away from pursuit.

"Great. Anything else?"
Code: Select all
I need a coolant change and the lancer turret squeaks. It needs oil.

Nax grunted. "Who pissed in your fuel tank today."
Code: Select all
Possibly the same pilot who crashed me into a a tree. Just a thought.

Nax turned and made his way passed Koiwa, pointedly avoiding her gaze, and made his way into the hallway.
He'd barely made it a half-dozen steps, hand on the rain gear when he heard the venting hiss of a lancet pistol filling the chamber.
He turned about slowly, Yana's tear stained eyes unmoving from the other end of the pistol.
"Kid," Nax said, his voice dangerously low but otherwise calm. "Put it down before we make choices we're going to regret."
"Like you did?" Yana's voice caught for a moment but she steadied herself. "Come on, Nax. I thought... I... we all trusted you. You were like... I don't know but you're a damned important grumpy old man to me and why'd you have to just... just screw that up."
"Kid, put the pistol down." Nax took a step forward just as Koiwa poked her head out of the cockpit and swore. "Would you tell her to put the thing down?"
"I don't know, Nax," Koiwa said, voice low and lacking the usual purr with which she said his name. "Should I?"
"Not funny," Nax growled back, but Yana hiccuped and the pistol made a whine. "Goddess, girl! Take you're finger off of that trigger."
"They would have killed her, Nax! All of us."
"I wasn't going to let that happen. Yana, just-"
"No! Shut up. You told me about them. I knew, I knew and I didn't do anything and you didn't even once think that maybe, just maybe, they'd not just stand about, pissing and talking big. That maybe they'd do something about all the 'fur-fags' and kitsune interlopers. Just... just tell, me please, that you didn't believe that..."
"I didn't. That's not... Yana, just put the pistol down and we can talk about this..."
"You knew I loved her, Nax. You never said anything but you knew. You made sure that the Necrian ports never found out and..." tears streamed down Yana's face as Koiwa slowly reached around her and gently lowered the pistol.

Nagy, who had been hiding behind the crew quarter's hallway door ran out and grabbed the young Necrian in her arms as Yana sagged to the floor.
Koiwa glared at Nax, pistol not fully lowered, the charge still humming.
Nax didn't look at her, just keeping his gaze fixed on the floor between her feet.
After what seemed like hours, or days, he turned back to the rain gear. "I... have to fix the ship. And someone needs to run into town and get some fuel cells if you want to get off this rock anytime soon. I'll... be outside..."

The door to the Nax's Luck spilled open, catching on some down trees and jamming about half-way. Nax crawled out and pulled the hood over his head.
It seemed so long ago that he'd returned to the ship and eaten some weird fruit Koiwa had liked.
He wondered what was going to happen to them all and decided that wasn't something he wanted to deal with at the moment. He was better with ships than with people.
He cast an eye over the ship's name, stenciled onto the side of the ship in faded black letters. Nax's Luck. An old trader, years ago, had told Nax it was a good name. It didn't claim to be good luck or bad luck, just your own.
Nax just wished someone had told him just how bad his luck would have been before he got out of bed that morning.

Korfel Spaceport
City Center
Field Med-center


She held the little white kit close to her, watching as the massive transport lumbered into the sky and high above the clouds, lightning coursing across it's skin, shields casting it aside or absorbing it.
It was the last transport, they had said.
There were still people on the ground, some wailing, others stalwart. But no one begged the soldiers to stay as they were called to move out. Some were pledging gun arms to a fight they wouldn't win, others walking off, still more moving to find a place to hide or wait or die.
But she didn't understand all that. They were coming, after all. And when the black ships broke through the clouds, they would be saved.

High above, a Necrian male stood from amid the throngs of people and moved to the engineering bays of the massive transport. When he was stopped by a concerned looking kitsune soldier, the man broke his neck with an ease and carelessness that seemed unnatural.
Of course the Necrian didn't get any further.
He was gunned down where he stood, panic spreading briefly through the halls as the soldiers tried to figure out what had happened.
But no one saw the bomb until it was too late.
Anti-matter was a volatile mistress. It's burning blue-white light tore a hole into the engine rooms and ruptured the hull. It wasn't long until the fire spread and depressurization took care of the rest.
The transport, Daisho, slowly fell back to the ground, smoke and fire disgorging into the rain and storm. It smashed into a building side, deflecting into the reservoir above the city. The water exploded with steam and boiling flames. What few survivors there were quickly made their way into the water, but in the storm and the battle raging around them, none could hear the cries for help.

Joint Base Shield
1st Imp. Armed Brigade Defending: 6th Night Assaulting


Fel held onto the back of Ishuri's pilot couch as she whipped the Bloodwasp around the tower, front end of the tiny delivery ship barely within meters of the stone and steel of the Temple's Khaltic Spire.
Fel wondered if Necrisis condoned the use of her symbols of faith as military vantage points, but she should have known better to tell her faithful to build towers.
"Nice work." He turned, barely acknowledging her as he swept by the rest of the squad. "Pull out of range and find cover. I'll call for evac if we win."
"'stood," was all she said, goosing the throttle even before the last of the soldiers jumped onto the tower's 'display' - a jutting balcony that extended almost ten meters from the gentle curve of the tower proper.
Wind and rain lashed at them, but Fel didn't have time for the storm.
"Form up. Sniper teams, rain fire."

His own pair of snipers quickly found cover at the tower's apex, while bolts of searing red flashed from the trees.
While SIN sniper rifles had been adapted to firing highly energized packets, NID-era rifles just held a powerful, condense lance. While powerful enough to punch through the armored hide of most tanks, its pin-point targeting made it useless as an anti-material tool. Even worse, while the beam was so tightly focused that it was nearly impossible to see, in this rain and rising fog, the beam's residue was all too obvious.
His sniper teams were told to take shots and then duck, cover and move. It didn't seem to be a very big unit covering the Joint Base and while Fel hoped for a series of 'target down's he didn't put much stock in it.
The key was to force them to keep heads down.
Of course, when it came to push and shove, the thirteen Scarabs tightening up a bombard from multiple points around the compound, the plasma-shells would be a pleasant change of pace.

The door to the Tower's inner stair well buckled at Fel forced it open with a psychic 'bump', stepping over the bodies of the down Imperial cover team that hadn't stood a chance against the humming blade of fire in his hand.

"Stay close, but don't get in the way," he said, taking the stairs two at a time, almost sliding down the spiraling staircase.
His squad paid heed to his command and trotted after, lancers at the ready.
When he reached the door to the upper landing, Fel paused, casting out with his psionics.
Faedan had taught him that looking for Xiscapians with psionics alone was a waste of time. The lowest end, anti-psionic gear that every commoner seemed to possess left a 'hole' in the weave. Anything better - like a soldier's load out - and you're looking for statues in a thick fog. You might get a glimpse of one, but you're more likely to run into it before you see it.
However, vibrations and subtle electro-static, heat and radioactive emissions made their own 'noise' in the weave and listening to those could let him 'see' faint outlines of the room beyond.
He held up a hand, stopping his squad.
About six soldiers were running into the room beyond the door and likely there would be more behind them. But these sods were going to be a bit of an experiment.
"Fallow team, focus on the aspect in your mind. Know yourselves and your leader, your brothers and sisters. You will feel them, you will know them."
Fel felt a torrent of thoughts suddenly become clear in his mind and he saw the squad physically relax, nerves vanishing as they were entranced by the spell of the mind.
Fel pulled his combat hood down, his face vanishing behind black duracloth and gleaming crimson eyes. "Now, siblings. Let us show them the heart of darkness."

There were no words as the squad moved through the door. Their movements were perfect, each one thinking in chorus with the others.
Fel found himself swept up in the battle meld, and had to fight for control before he was drowned by it.
He was paired with Fallow 2 - a gangly man with hard eyes and soft, undamaged skin. He'd never seen open combat, but he was feeding on the experiences of the others and he followed Fel in a low crouch, perfectly stable, rifle close to chest.

The room was a two story audience chamber, used for private communions and rites. The balcony above had no cover to speak of, just pillars every few meters, ringing the room below and a pair of stairs on either side. Below the Imperials had found cover behind upended pews and one was even using the statue of the goddess for cover.
Fel skirted the perimeter even as the other six set up and began to take shots down at them.
Fel and Fallow 2 jumped the far edge of the balcony, having flanked the Imperials. Two of them had noticed, preparing to aim and fire as Fel landed, rolling forward, the energy blade scything out, leaping to a greater length as his fight response spiked.
Three lancer blasts tore into the kitsune on the left as the blade cut deep into the one of the right. The power armor's strong skin might have withstood another templar's blade for a pace or two, but Fel had caught her in the middle.
The smell of burnt skin and fur filled the room and then Fel had swirled up, blade singing as it sore up and over and down, cleaving a rifle in two. While the man - alavan perhaps? - reeled back, rifled falling away as he scrambled for a pistol, feet launching him into a roll, away from the gleaming crimson whirlwind gathering strength within the center of the room, lancers screamed from the balcony and the man tumbled to the ground, six holed burned through his center mass.
Already Fel moved on, using the deadly blade to force the Imperials from cover, pew wood tearing away like so much wet paper as lancers targeted each desperate soldier in turn.
Clearly, these soldiers had been expecting a straight up shoot out against untrained militia, not a unit bound together into one thinking mind.

Fallow 2 kicked the kitsune down, mercilessly firing all the while into the faceplate as armor turned to slag and slag to burning flesh.

Without a word, the squad turned and moved on, not even noticing that one of their number was dead. It was as if all of them had been shot in the arm. Pain radiated, ambiently from somewhere on their collective body, but nothing like having lost one of their number to a stray blast from a xiscapian rifle.

Another flight of stairs lead them into the main hall. Save for a few pillars keeping the building up, it was bare, semi-nude statues of saints and templars decorated the largest room in the temple, which - Fel realized - was very small compared to the cathedrals that he’d gone to on Var’Kara.

The seven Necrians split without a sound, three taking up positions on the upper level walkway while another three used the rip-lines in their exo-skeleton gauntlets to launch themselves across the gap and toward the opposite side.
Fel, however, merely jumped the rail and his blade danced in response to the barrage of gunfire from below. He tapped into another cord of power and his reflexes tightened. Bullets slowed as they left their chambers, as if the whole world was suddenly underwater - all except him.
Lancers flared from above, cutting into the Xiscapian ranks even as they scrabbled for cover.
But Fel’s goal here wasn’t the slaughter of the enemy. He needed to get below.
Casting about the room with a glance as he flowed over one soldier - stabbing them in the gut and rolling over their convulsing form as he sliced into the chest of another. They were spreading out now, keeping their distance, but unable to get a bead on him as scars of red light kept their attentions unfocused.
The door was ajar, and that meant they knew why they were here.
Fel ducked low and sped off, shifting the resonance in his head to speed and agility. His movements juked him behind a pillar and through the door before the Xiscapians could trace him. Bullets stitched the ground behind him and Fel felt the hot sting of a near miss across his lower thigh, but it wasn’t enough to stop. Him.

The stairs lead down to the basement where the ion shield generators were stored. In truth they were simply back up generators, but as a holy site, addition shielding was provided, mostly as a place to protect the wounded and succor any civilians.
But right now, no one on the other side had the pass codes to active it and so their only option was to blow it to the pits and back.

The makeshift bomb - a jury-rigged generator linked into a feed-back loop, safeties cut and some extra bits added in - was almost ready by the time Fel swooped into the room.
The four kitsune who had been watching the door opened up even before he entered the room. Muzzle flash and booming retorts from the heavy assault rifles echoed around the cluttered chamber. Fel took a few hits - a pair pounding off the armored robes while the last found purchase in his lower abdomen.
Nothing fatal and the psionic pulse dulled the pain, using it to fuel the surge of rippling air that crashed into the guards with hurricane force. Only one managed to stand their ground, planting feet and bracing against the gust. However, Fel had leaped onto the ceiling, using his powers to skitter across the gap, the coldly flaming blade slashing down to strike the helmeted head.
The engineer was standing, turning, pistol drawn when Fel spun around, blade sinking into the chest armor, metal peeling away. He didn’t make it painful. A twist and cut and the kitsune fell back, left side separating from the right.
The soldier that had stood against the gale force slumped to his knees, smoke pouring from the gouge in his helmet.

The remaining three were recovering quickly, as Fel had expected. With a wave of his hand, the air molecules vibrated into a concussive blast, the air itself catching fire around the two on the left. The boom of collapsing air - hundreds of pounds per square millimeter of it - did more damage than the explosion. It crushed the two soldiers together, knocking them down and back into the wall.
The last had raised their rifle, took aim and fired in the same space of time. Fel whipped around, pain blossoming in his right shoulder before it was swept away and into a psionicly powered kick that snapped the rifle in half. Following his momentum, Fel, followed with another one that drove the kitsune back and a third, planting them firmly into the wall. The last round-house kick took the sword arm around and the blade and armor flared as it tore into the upper chest, down across the hip.

“This is Operator Fel,” Fel said, tapping his hood’s comm unit and stepping over to the generators. “Objective achieved. Set fire to the rain boys and girls.”

Outside, as Kazuki and his team dashed from cover to cover - the tower snipers taking potshots at anything that moved, not to mention the harrying fire from the jungle’s upper branches and underbrush - the sound of thunder would be drowned out for a moment by the hissing whine of plasma shot sailing through the air.
Ten or more bright bulbs of light arched through the night, slow and steady, reaching a cap of their arch before screaming to the earth, turning anything they touched into molten glass, slag or burning rubble.
It wasn’t long before a rhythm started, pairs and trios of blasts torching the ground, followed quickly by others.
They seemed to have spotters, but it was hard to tell. The Scarabs of the NID, and by extension, the Nightguards, were often used as a direct line of sight weapon. Plasma lancer cannons could immolate an entire tank, stem to stern, but could be converted into a plasma shot launcher. It often wasn’t used, but with Fel’s limited access to munitions, he was more willing to rain fire and not kill anything, than risk the lightly armored tanks in close range combat.

Even as the blue flames roiled down around them, Kazuki wouldn’t miss the shimmering of the ion shield cloak the tower, distorting a sniper bolt as its crimson sear passed by with uncomfortable accuracy.

From the far side of the compound the sound of a dull implosion signaled a wall breach. Armored troop transports punched through the rubble, skidding on the mud and flat concrete, quickly making for buildings to provide cover.
Even as an Imperial’s launcher crippled one truck, sending it end over end in a gush of flames, a sniper flash from the trees struck out.
If it was a kill or warning shot, it was hard to say. But it gave the five trucks time to pull into the motor pool and further up, disgorging teams of soldiers in a fashion vastly different from the ones Kazuki’s defence force had been fighting. They took points, running fast and low as sniper teams kept rifle responses to a minimum as they scoured the compound, moving building to building and starting to clear them out.
Kazuki would recognize the tactic of course. It was a simple push, taking control of everything the enemy held and using it against them.
Except the NFP and militias had not been displaying this kind of organization earlier.
Something had definitely changed.

If he didn’t have his psionic damping mod in place, Kazuki might have felt the growing feeling of dread and hopelessness seeping into the air. The Necrian Battle Meditation from the Necropolis was reaching deep into the system now, and as it rushed over the kitsune - those with anti-psychic mods feeling nothing while the rest started to bristle - it also touched the corpses of the fruitless Necrian push from earlier.
It activated nanites, dormant in the blood of many of the zealous NFP and even some of the Nightguards. Nanites that quickly flash converted bio-mass into metals and circuits.

Dim blue glows ignited behind the eyes of the dead and over two dozen shambled to their feet.
They knew only two things.
Kill the Enemy. Protect the Living.

As Kazuki’s team ran through the ion shield’s haze - none of them moving fast enough to trigger the energy shroud - four such Hollows rose from the numbers of the slain, rushing them without any sign of hesitation, arms reaching out, teeth suddenly dozens of knives and fingers and toes like claws.
The howls that started to echo up from all over the city mingled with the storms own crying winds. The cries of the damned and the dreaded.

Sir, what are those things?

Kazuki didn't respond immediately. He remembered going to the joint history museum with Sanjia and Aroji last year. Sani had thought it would be good for him to see the other half of his heritage.
Hollows had never featured in modern military but Aroji had been fascinated by the idea of 'space zombie' as all little boys were. But he'd seen Sani's face.
Hollows weren't something the NID had thought of using, judging them as abhorrent and wasteful.
There were only old propaganda holos at the museum that displayed them as tools of heretics and zealots. The only time Hollows were seen as positive were within Temples and Crypt-ships - the ancient Necrian physical mausoleums.
Yet here they were. Had they come from the Temple? No, that was impossible...
But it didn't matter. They were closing with speed, howls like mechanical wolves droning across the storm's lashing rains.
Necrian robo-undead. Shoot on sight and don't stop until they're not moving.
Copy copy.

The troop of soldiers staggered into the Temple, Kazuki firing off a burst into the last howling monster that was dogging their steps.
It hadn't been as easy as he thought to kill an unthinking target.
But he didn't dwell on it for long.
Spinning around and ordering the doors shut with a flicker of the order across his mind, Kazuki faced the room.
The smell of burned flesh and smoking fur caught his nose first.
The flashing of lancers, spears of crimson lashing across his forces before they even had a moment to gather the surroundings.
With the Hollows bearing down on them, Kazuki hadn't taken the time to scope the room.
Find cover and return-
A lancer blast took Miriya in the chest, knocking her off her feet. Kazuki grabbed the medic by the shoulder and dragged her down next him behind a pew. Particle beams cut into the dark wood, cinders flaring to life.
Within seconds they had been pinned, lancer fire chewing through the wooden cover slowly.
And then, inexplicably, it stopped.

The smell of ozone and sulfur caught Kazuki's nose. His fiber optic snaked out and rising from the basement door like a demon came a Templar.
Wreathed in black robes, hood and gleaming red eyes, his red laser blade hummed gently by his side.
"Surrender, Imperials." He stepped out onto the main floor. "You're out gunned, numbered and matched. Soon, my soldiers will overrun your men outside and then you'll be all alone. The Necropolis comes for you, as do the dead. You're fools to resist."

One of Kazuki's soldiers shifted uneasily. Sir, I think I can get a shot on the Templar. I count six soldiers on the upper level. If I can just-
A stream of red fire tore into the cover the soldier was using and he slumped forward, a smoking hole in his chest.

"Or," the Templar continued, seemingly unsurprised by the shot. "We can just pick you off, one by one."
Kazuki couldn't be sure, but the words seemed to echo back down at him, a murmur just below the rumbling of the storm and gun fire outside.
Another lancer bolt took the corner off of Kazuki's pew cover, his fiber optic flaring white before it auto-corrected from the light overload.
"Stand down," the Templar said again. He was closer now, the red blade casting monstrous shadows across the room. "You don't have to die for nothing."
Sir, Miriya said over the link. Kazuki felt her weak hand grip his shoulder. We go down swinging. Don't worry about me... we have a war to win...
We do, Kazuki said, gripping his medic's shoulder. But it's not today.
Even as he felt the silence come through the link, Kazuki stood, hand above his head.
"Don't shoot! Don't fire, we surrender..."
The words were bitter in his mouth, a sour bile that made him almost sick into his helmet. He flicked it open and the darkness of the room almost surprised his naked eyes, even as they adjusted.
The Templar cocked his head, then chuckled. "... What a day... huh, Kazuki?"
Kazuki's eyes widened even as the Necrian troopers dropped down from above, landing with perfect coordination atop his own.

The storm wasn't letting up as the Necrians escorted the Imperial soldiers out of the temple. The gunfire had quieted to a few pockets now, and Kazuki couldn't decide if his heart was trying to burrow into his stomach or escape through his mouth.
They'd all known this was a holding action. That, with an enemy fleet in orbit and no defenses against such, it was just a waiting game. But as he looked up, rain pounding against his muzzle, corralled into the open field of the joint base's parade ground, he thought he saw the clouds about to lift. Maybe a peak of the gas giant's sun reflecting off its great clouds before all would go black.
Instead the clouds swelled, rain suddenly shifting and pulsing in great gusts, lighting stretching across the storm front. Then it exploded.
The tempest quieted, the winds died and the lightning and thunder arced up to cling to the sides of the super-dreadnought that seemed to swallow the sky.
It's great bulk destroyed the great storm as it it were a slight breeze and as it slowly lowered down, over the city, Kazuki could see smaller ships slipping out of its bays and plummeting to the ground.
Then the gravity bursts washed over them and Kazuki suddenly thought of Sanjia, Aroji, his friends and squad mates.
"Don't worry," the Templar said, pulling his mask off, pushing Kazuki one last time into the gathering of POWs. Feldrak smiled, a little sad, as he sheathed the psi-blade. "She's fine Kazuki. She didn't make it off world. But she's fine."
Last edited by Necrisis on Thu Jun 22, 2017 11:15 am, edited 1 time in total.
Sol Imperi Necrosa Factbook

"You know you're in a shitty situation when your better option is 'go to war with the KEX.'" ~ Xiscapia

"Necrian diplomatic missives are often delivered by sniper rifle."~ NS

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Xiscapia
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Posts: 12868
Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Sun Mar 04, 2018 12:48 am

Korfel Spaceport
City Center
HQ of the 33rd Imperial Infantry Division


Broken Fang, say again Broken Fang. Be advised of descending debris, friendly and hostile escape pods, and landing craft.

Major General Shuuei closed his eyes and exhaled softly as the code came through signaling the loss of the garrison fleet. There was silence in the headquarters, the officers still processing the dual sights of the Daisho sinking into the reservoir and the Hetaevan frigate smashing through the Revan in orbit. Shuuei opened his eyes and looked around at their faces, muzzles gone into hard lines with ears flat and tails twitching back and forth. The screens began to light up with fire as the division's missiles and flak cannons combined with the infantry's attached AA artillery regiment, gleefully opening up on the incoming drop ships and Spires now that they finally had targets to engage. With the night made almost pure black by the storm the explosions were easy to pick out where shuttles were torn from the sky and detonations stitched furiously up and down the hulls of the troop ships.

Even as he watched one Spire slowed, its trajectory for the eastern outskirts of the city going crooked as one missile after another hammered into its landing gear. Anti-air artillery tracked the ship as it settled to the ground, tipping gradually before the division's heavy guns began to find their marks. Shellfire burst against the hull before rockets began to whistle in, nothing spared as the landing zone around it was leveled at a rate even Shuuei had never seen before. The artillery crews were putting their all into it, firing at emergency rates in an effort to use up their entire stock of shells and missiles with the desperate ferocity of soldiers who knew that they were running out of time. Their efforts were rewarded as with a mighty groan that he could both hear and feel in his chest the Spire tipped, its midsection crumpling under the fire and the bulk of the ship collapsing onto an apartment block in a cloud of burning smoke and dust.

The SIN will not spare us, he turned where he stood to look across his officers. Our communications are still being jammed and if they bombed a transport full of refugees they will not hesitate to execute us all. We have already seen that they have no qualms about lying about their intentions, so I do not believe we will be shown mercy regardless of what they say, he sighed inwardly as he thought of the commander of the 6th Night Guards, Major General Lady Civine Agathu. He was sure that the woman would never have authorized that, but he was also sure that the situation was not and had never been entirely under her control. It was bittersweet to reflect that the Necrian he had helped train had so completely outmaneuvered him, relying on the sheer numbers of the evacuation and the death squad threat to it to tie down half the 33rd Infantry while her Night Guards pinned the 1st Armored.

The evacuation is as complete as it is going to get. We have no opportunity to advance on Joint Base Shield. Should we deploy now we will be completely destroyed by enemy air power. Even as he spoke he glanced at the screen, revealing fewer than forty Shuriken left in the sky and those that remained fighting in a frenzy against the overwhelming horde of Necrian drones and small craft descending on the city. At least the remote-controlled craft would see no sapient casualties beyond those already inflicted by the destruction of the frigate and cruiser respectively. The enemy must take this position to allow for quick mass troop deployment and the landing of heavy equipment. We will not allow them to have it without a fight.

Shuuei gazed across his staff, knowing that every one of them knew what that meant. I have initiated Operation Stalker. Brigadier Genji is in charge of getting as many of our troops into the surrounding jungles as possible so we can carry on resisting the enemy. Shi will need staff officers for such operations so as many of you should exfiltrate this area as possible. Those who remain when the enemy arrives will be forced to fight to the death. There will be no surrender.

What about you, sir? his boolean morale officer asked.

This defeat is mine to bear, the tod looked at her before letting his eyes roam across his officers again. We cannot exfiltrate all of my troops before the enemy arrives. I will not abandon them. I will remain.

Sir, his command sergeant major stepped forward then, the escan Lipan already bearing burn marks and scratches across his power armor. I'm with you. Senior NCOs are replaceable, and these soldiers need someone to help coordinate their last fight. And I can take some zombie-fuckers with me, he grinned. My descendants will sing my praises.

Fine, Shuuei nodded, secretly glad. But the rest of you must try to exfiltrate. Do it last if you have to, but at least try to make it out. Promise me that.

There were nods all around. Relieved, he gave them a low bow and turned back. As they hurried to prepare Genji stepped up beside him, the third-sexed kitsune as stolid as ever. I have already exfiltrated about a thousand troops, shi told him. We cannot use the designated fallback points, they will be patrolled by enemy forces, but our troops have already begun to cache supplies and disperse. Numerous noncombatants are also fleeing into the jungle, so with any luck we can meet with and incorporate them.

That's a bit of good news, he said, but couldn't help but sigh openly. It said a lot about their situation that he was only glad that a tenth of his forces had been able to retreat into the wilderness. Keep it up, brigadier.

Yes sir. Genji bowed and turned away, and on whim Shuuei followed hir. The command post was buried beneath the center of the starport so when shi turned off for the subterranean garages he began to trot up the stairs to the surface. It was only when he emerged from the covered stairwell that he realized that the storm had finally let up. No more water fell from the sky, as if the oncoming fleet was so numerous it had replaced the rain entirely, but he could still see his breath fogging the air in front of him from the moon's periodic near-freezing shift. It reminded him to seal his helmet as he stepped out onto the tarmac.

The wide open area was almost completely empty of any kind of starship. Everything capable of spaceflight had been taken, right down to the smallest runabouts, and even the planes and suborbital hovercraft had already been grabbed by civilians left behind or retreating soldiers. In their places were much of the division's artillery, heavy guns and rocket launchers surrounded by crew busily loading shells and missiles with their work lit by the nearly continuous thunder of the weapons throwing everything they had at the ships in atmosphere and landing zones picked out by the drones. In the center of it all sat the Unconquered Sun, the last troop carrier left that would have evacuated the remaining at-risk civilians as well as the 33rd Infantry Division, the enormous 500-meter long Crusher transport's own weaponry adding some of the heaviest and most murderous fire to the mix with over a hundred fifty turreted autocannons as well as the odd antiproton and ion blasts and a steady stream of AA missiles. If nothing else the ship's guns and thick armor would make sure that it would be the very last place in the starport to fall.

Before he could make it there a lull came in the firing and he could hear a song rising up from around the starport:

"A Serpent lights the ancient sky, the threat of distant stars..."

Do you know what that is, sir? one of the mortar crew called to Shuuei.

The beginning to the old Dominion's national anthem, he stopped where he was, listening.

Great, the vixen slotted the mortar into its tube. You think they'll keep singing, sir?

It has a number of verses, so yes.

They can tell Necrisis thank-you for me. Clear! she ducked and so did Shuuei as the mortar fired, the boom launching a mortar almost directly up. Makes a lot of good noise for our drones and artillery masts to hone in on, sir, she explained a moment before the singing stopped abruptly. Then the screaming began.
Shuuei looked at her.
Napalm, sir.

Nodding, he turned away and increased the volume of his external vox. Luckily his troops both had that much more range with their microphones and the enemy didn't have any artillery or even orbital weapons capable of both breaking through the starport's shields and leaving the facility itself intact. He could afford to do this. Shuuei closed his eyes and summoned up the words that every Xiscapian had heard at least once. At first his voice carried alone over the starport and surrounding city:

"Light in the early morning
Light, ground and shade
Shaking from the shells but unafraid
We breathe hellfire
"

By the end of the verse others had joined him in chorus:

"Death walks secretly
As a kit sleeping would
Blood drunk!
Our howls reverberate
"

The major general kept singing as he continued his walk, no longer leading the anthem but merely a part of it. They were loud enough to be heard even over the constant fire the division's artillery and the guns of the Unconquered Sun blazing away into the night sky. Even after he knocked at the hatch and was let inside by a spacer Shuuei could hear the crew's voices echoing through the halls of the troop ship as he walked down them, following the man leading him inwards to the bridge. He had thought that the ship would be all but empty given that it would never leave the ground again but to his surprise the corridors were full of soldiers, someone clearly having had the same brainwave that he had about it being the safest place in the starport. That, he reflected, was only technically true.

"Song of smoke in the sky
The song of war rises
Ever louder
"

"Aya! Come on! Come on!"

Those words were being shouted by a coal-black vixen when Shuuei stepped onto the bridge. Unlike with the rest of the ship she was one of the only people present, with only her greali communications officer, tod tactical officer, and a couple of SMG-armed crew standing by the bridge blast doors. When she realized that Shuuei was there she turned his way and bowed before walking over, still connected to her chair's terminal by the neural tendril connected to the back of her neck. "Sir," captain Miyū greeted him calmly, but he could see the pain in her eyes. Captain Jarriaran of the Daisho had been a friend of hers, perhaps more given the sheer stress he could smell from the vixen, but in the middle of a battle it was hard to be sure.

"Be as a demon
With no body
And only faith
In your struggle
"

"Captain."

"You want me to use the Unconquered Sun to destroy the starport." It wasn't a question.

Shuuei looked at her for a long moment. "Yes," he said finally. "Can you do it?"

She snorted. "I guarantee you if their shitbag empress was on the ground and I knew where she was I could kill her with this ship. General. As it stands, yes, I could turn this place into a crater. Thing is, the most reliable and destructive way to do it is to activate the Jaunt Drive while we're sitting here."

"I thought you couldn't make the dive to faster-than-light in atmosphere?"

"You're not supposed to. Or, rather, no one's ever done it and come back to tell about it. But we've seen what happens when you activate the drive on the ground. Everything within that radius is just fucking gone. With the Unconquered Sun that would be everything within four or five city blocks of where we're standing."

"So you'll do it?"

Without answering Miyū turned back to her console and leaned over. It was at that moment that he realized that the female solo part of the anthem was about to come up, the haunting single voice that rang out over Xiscapian worlds every day. The kitsune performed it beautifully, her words husky and full of emotion:

"From my eyes not
Fear the rain, my kit,
I'm proud of you
Fighting fang and claw
"

She looked at him then and he needed no further confirmation. The major general just nodded and looked out at the battle as shown on the transport's monitors. Ships were landing thick and fast, it seemed every time one was blown from the sky another two took its place, and there were more Spires than ever beginning to ring the city's perimeter. It wouldn't be much longer now. Yet he knew it was still worth waiting: the longer they held off, the more troops could exfiltrate, and the more enemy troops would press into the battlezone to take the starport.
Soon, he told himself. Soon your mission will be over. And you can finally rest.

Korfel Spaceport
City Center
Field Med-center


"All noncombatants must evacuate immediately! This area is under threat. Make your way to the closest exit now."

The message repeated as Sergeant First Class Oni of the Warriors of the Wind strode through the starport's halls, his Confederation of Allied States "Stormstrike" armor so broad and tall at nine feet in height that he could barely fit through the corridors. The scarred human didn't like it: as nimble as the Stormstrike was for its size that was no help with no room to maneuver, but someone had to help the ICE officers do their last checks to clear the starport of any remaining civilians or wounded and at least this way there was no chance of anyone getting by him. The Imperial troops were too busy with last-minute hardening of their defenses and stockpiling supplies for their final fight, gone from defending civilians escaping the planet to buying time for their fellows and everyone else at risk in the city to flee the capital while the colonial and SIN forces focused on them. As for the sole CAS platoon on Fel'tethra, the rest of it was with his superior Lieutenant Max, Lord of the Lesser Circle, Knight of the Raven etc. helping to guard the starport's main entrance where the most insurgents had gathered. As he strode through the halls flanked by a pair of agents he considered the man leading his platoon.

Rustovian Max wasn't a bad sort, to be sure. He had fought heroically in the Sar War, a better soldier as a teenager than many men twice his age, and there was no questioning his courage or his passion. But he was young still, with only a single campaign to speak of, with too much hunger for the fight and not enough of what made the Warriors of the Wind such an effective force: rapport with and understanding of the local people. If he had been Oni wouldn't be the only Warrior sweeping the starport. Xiscapian and Necrian civilians were not Sar civilians, and colonial Necrians were not Danaversians, much less the SIN forces even now setting foot on Fel'tethra's soil.

Oni and his ICE fellows emerged from the hall into the wide open space of one branch of the starport's boarding area. It was utterly deserted, all of the rows of seats empty and the shops lining either side dark and gated and the floor littered with discarded luggage and bags with contents dumped across the tile. Not even the Imperial soldiers had bothered to garrison the open area with its huge glass windows, having rigged it with charges to bring the roof and walls down on the first wave of SIN troops and turn it into a killing field for the division's cannons and mortars. He was just about to turn away when he noticed that the lights were still shining from the bathrooms. At the same time one of the tod officers pricked his ears up, nose twitching before he glanced at Oni and held up two fingers before nodding to the left doorway. Frowning, Oni mentioned for the officers to stay back as he approached.

Once the right door and the men's room was cleared he ducked into the women's room. There in an open stall was a Necrian woman wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the floor with a kitsune child in her arms. She looked up, exposing the kit's face, and Oni realized that he was was Necrian-blooded, likely a halfbreed: the pure white fur and hair and scarlet eyes combination was rare among pureblood kitsune but common among those who had both Necrian and kitsune parents. "Ma'am," he leaned in marginally to allow his scanners to sweep over her, informing him that she was free of wounds. "You need to leave now. It's not safe here."

She just stared at him. Whether it was from shock or fear or lack of comprehension he couldn't be sure, but there wasn't time to figure it out. "Come on," he gently but firmly got his arms under her back and legs and bodily picked her up, cradling her even as she hugged the kit tightly to her breast. Even given Oni's cybernetics and powered armor the pair were light enough that he lowered them down to the tod to carry, though he didn't try to separate the two. "We leave now," he told the enforcers and they followed without question. Though Oni technically outranked them he was a member of an entirely different service from a foreign nation with only a token platoon that had until recently been guests of the starport, but in this situation getting out alive was more important than chain of command.

The group they found waiting at the gate was a hodgepodge. Four covered Growler 6x6 trucks were idling in the street as the last of the noncombatants were helped aboard, their beds crammed with people, while an escort waited around them in the form of a single dismounted KIN marine infantry platoon and a quartet of XIA FAR armored cars. Judging by the armor they had a mix of Army soldiers, ICE officers, and of course the Warriors of the Wind among them, the CAS soldiers standing out in their comparatively oversized armored suits from where they maintained a perimeter around the little convoy. One of them was standing by an Imperial soldier, the pair anonymous among their troops but Oni's IFF and practiced eye respectively picked out Lieutenant Max and Imperial Marine Lieutenant Satoma, a tod he knew from the Krosis. Both nodded to Oni as he stepped up.

"Sir, Lieutenant. The spaceport has been evacuated. All noncombatants have cleared the perimeter."

"Excellent, Sergeant. Now we can finally get this thing moving!"

Satoma's tail lashed hard in signal and the convoy began moving, the armored cars boxing them in while the infantry kept the four trucks surrounded, there not being enough vehicles or room in the existing ones for them to have transport. "We might have to get past a few snipers but I don't know of any specific resistance we'll encounter until we hit the outskirts. The police have set up roadblocks to intercept anyone trying to leave the city so we'll probably have to get through one of those. Once we hit the jungle we'll split up, two squads with each truck to keep them protected while we scatter. Observe comms discipline and don't make for the designated fallback points under any circumstances, the enemy will be watching those places."

"Understood."

"Lieutenant," Max drew himself up, every inch as tall as Oni was. "With your permission I will lead a squad to scout ahead of the formation. Once we make it to the roadblock we'll take care of it so you can roll right through."

Satoma nodded. "Granted. We'll be right behind you."

With that Max's suit and several others bodily leaped from the concrete, hovering on their thrusters to sweep ahead through the air over the rooftops. Satoma watched them go, silently wishing that he had a few companies of their Imperial equivalent in Light Assault Mechs. The soldiers jogged along under the rain to the sound of engines humming and the perpetual background noise of thunder all but indistinguishable from the roar of the division's guns. Even here outside the starport proper the ground was covered in blankets, bags, clothing, and all the other detritus that the evacuees had dropped by haste or order. As Oni stepped over a doll he wondered how much of it was from the refugees of the doomed Daisho.

Before long they began to find bodies. Often clad in heavy cloaks and robes, they weren't always distinguishable from the discarded luggage strewn about, but even when they were the drivers ran right over them without even slowing to the crack of bones. Here and there were the bloody remains of a police officer or the lancer-burned corpse of an Imperial soldier, but the vast majority were civilians and most of them had the slender, pale bodies of Necrians. The Necrians weren't Danaversians, but they could do indiscriminate slaughter like the amphibians, Oni decided as they finally stopped in the middle of the street. Yet when he realized what the cause was it made even Oni pause.

Two buildings on either side of the street had been burned out. The left had once been a Necrian noodle bar apparently sitting atop a subterranean Xiscapian-style lounge, now blackened with windows shattered and a pile of rubble over the stairway down. But the building across from it had been a temple, its walls pulled down and the tower collapsed into the street, no doubt by an improvised bomb judging by the blast crater and the remains of a nearby speeder. "This was preemptive," he spoke his thoughts as his CAS soldiers automatically moved forward, some hopping the obstacle to clear and cover the opposite side while others moved in to clear a path for the vehicles with seamless coordination. At the same time as the remaining CAS men and women established the rest of the perimeter the Imperial troops spread out, their size and limberness better adapted for the tighter spaces of the destroyed buildings in the search for survivors or hidden threats.

"Agreed," Satoma knelt beside him, the kitsune made even smaller by that as the barrel of his carbine steadily swept the area. Their cautious movement came as the gunners of each FAR scanned the upper stories and rooftops, a handful of the power-armored troopers leaping up to overwatch points once scanners assured them that their chosen perches would hold their weight. "This must have been one of those temples that got a little too friendly with us."

Oni didn't say anything, a hot mix of anger and nausea rising within him. He had never imagined that they would attack their own temples and priests, but as he surveyed the charred forms lying sprawled in the rain-soaked street he began to understand. As before most of them were Necrians with a scattering of kitsune and other species. If non-Necrians were the infection that had to be burned out then those who associated with and tried to shelter them were just the dead flesh to be cauterized to keep the rest of the body alive and healthy. They had been targeted specifically.

One of the soldiers emerged from the temple and Oni saw her just shake her head. The same response came from the other side and with the remnants of the tower moved out of the way the convoy rolled through. He would never forget journey they made through those dark ruins that echoed with the boom of artillery and the scream of lancer fire all around. The Danaversians would sometimes massacre people but they did it artlessly, grouping people into clumps and machine-gunning them before moving on to the next target. The Necrians weren't like that. Here they had impaled a vixen on a spike, the metal rod put through her back and out her chest in the street's median, the words "FOX WHORE" scrawled across her naked body in warning. There they had tied half a dozen men to stakes, bodies lolling limp and features unrecognizable from the fires that had burned around the bases. The convoy passed by a large, gnarled tree with over a dozen hanging from its branches and Oni finally started to block it out.

A few blocks from the edge of the city one of the CAS soldiers from the scouting team hovered up over one of the buildings to land by Oni. "We only ran into light resistance, sir," Private May informed Oni once she'd hovered close enough, floating suit keeping pace with them. "Took care of a few snipers on the way here. Already neutralized the roadblock, most of the cops ran after we dropped the first couple. Should be moving their cars now, sir."

"Keep an eye out for them regrouping. They might attempt a counterattack. Dismissed."

"Yes sir!"

As May took off again Satoma gave the order and the convoy sped up, engines whirring as jackboots tramped over the wet street. Either this area was now clear of hostiles or they were all keeping their heads down in face of a larger force, and regardless of what the reason was Oni hoped against hope that it would stay that way. Despite all his experience he could still feel his heartbeat accelerating well beyond his exertion, sweat sticking to his body within the suit as they turned the final corner. There was only the last street and a smattering of outbuildings before the pavement turned into a dirt road winding its way through the jungle. Max and his squad was standing at the end of the street among a couple of overturned police cars, securing the way out for the convoy.
That was when Oni's sensors blared an overhead warning.

"Incoming!"

Hetaevan Battle Frigate Maw of Thr'vak...

Pack Leader Kruuva strode through the halls of his mortally wounded frigate without pause, his packmates converging on him as he caught sight of Reorc at the airlocks. The half-kitsune said nothing, only doing a final check of himself before the drop. He would never have admitted it but ramming the Maw of Thr'vak into and then through the enemy flagship had been harrowing, mainly due to the notion that his own life and those of the two dozen others aboard were reliant on what passed for Hetaevan engineering. On the ground they could be more responsible for their own fate, and it was that less than the glory behind or before him was what occupied Kruuva's mind as he assured himself that his weapons -bastard sword, short blade, and an SMG should those and his abilities somehow prove to be not enough. Dying in a final attack on the Revan would have been a fine enough end, but as long as he still breathed Kruuva had no intention of going to meet his ancestors.

So he was glad to step into the airlock, crowding in with his pack before the bay depressurized and they were hurled out into low orbit with a thunder that he felt even in his armored suit. He couldn't help but laugh at the sheer exhilaration of it as he did with every drop, plummeting through the breaking clouds to be caught by the wind. Frigid rain lashed at his faceplate but Kruuva ignored it, focusing on the men and women around him and the minds within. He knew most of them intimately, familiar with the bloodlust, the battle rage, the gleeful aggression, and the cold calculation that made up their different approaches to combat. They were his too and he connected with them then, seamlessly linking the packs together in intention and coordination. The others were only faintly aware of his influence, acquiescing to it as the only practical way to keep the packs working together in a confused and violent landing.

That was coming up rapidly. They had been slated to assault the Joint Base but he could tell that they were going to come down closer to the outskirts of the city. They would just have to work their way in, he decided as he reached out with his psychic touch to the landing zone below. As soon as he felt the clusters of minds below the others knew about it, and from there Kruuva didn't even need to give any orders. With the fluidity of a veteran combat unit the Hetaevans formed up in those last seconds, slowing just enough to avoid injury on impact.
There would be almost no time to react.

Kruuva slammed into the ground and immediately bounded up from the shattered asphalt, bastard sword in hand. The armored suit that confronted him was nearly as tall as he was, the wearer only half turned before the pack leader's blade cleaved through their midsection in a burst of blood. Other packmates were landing all around as Kruuva charged in, aware of vehicles and soldiers all around even as he bodily checked one of the smaller ones in his way and slammed them to the ground. He had just angled his sword to crush their head when a flash of fire caught his eye and in the split second he saw the micro-missile streaking at him he acted as he'd been repeatedly trained to in the Temple: an exertion of will that was almost physical and his outcast hand turned the rocket, sending it hurtling back to put the warrior down in an explosion of shrapnel. By the time he looked down the other soldier had vanished, but a burst of fire that slammed into his breastplate meant he had bigger problems.

Grunting, Kruuva recoiled, hands tightening on the hilt of his sword as he felt the bullets chew into his armor and stitch miniature detonations across it. Snarling, he lashed his massive tail and threw his arms back, psycho-kinetically launching himself forward at the offending FAR. The gunner lost their bead on him and in the blink of an eye his shoulder met the side of the vehicle, crumpling the plating in and sending the armored car crashing onto its side. With a twist of his sword Kruuva drove it through the passenger cabin, unable to hear the cries but feeling his blade meet the resistance of flesh before he tore it out again in a bloody flash. Rounds crashed into the FAR from the other side and Kruuva looked beyond it to see one of his packmates hammering it with a LMG.
Then a shape moved behind the Hetaevan and in an instant the warrior dropped, Kruuva barely seeing the blade that neatly stabbed through the neck.

Yet he definitely saw the armored suit standing behind his fallen packmate. The warrior pointed his sword at Kruuva and the halfbreed needed no further challenge. They met among the carnage with the clash of blades, their strength equal, but Kruuva didn't give his opponent any time to assess further. A dropped rifle proved convenient for him to telekinetically throw, the weapon cracking against the other warrior's head from behind and making him stagger. Kruuva took the opening, bringing his blade up and absorbing the satisfying shock of his point piercing through armor and into meat as he drove his weapon into the man's torso.

The warrior twisted, crying out as his blood seeped out from around the gash, but finally managed to wrench himself free only to stagger back onto the pavement. He tried to swing his sword up to catch Kuurva in the side but the pack leader parried, sliding his sword along his enemy's blade until he slammed it into the hilt and pinned arm and sword both to the ground. Kruuva didn't realize that it had been a ruse until the man's other arm raised and an explosion sent him sprawling, the grenades detonating so close that even when he was lying on the ground Kruuva could feel the hundreds of places where the shrapnel had bit into his hide. Rolling over as the pain dulled, the half-Hetaevan climbed to his feet, satisfied to find nothing missing though he bled from wounds across his body. The same couldn't be said for the man he had been dueling, armor pockmarked with shrapnel as blood formed an expanding pool of scarlet around the eagle-spread form.

Kruuva had kept hold of his bastard sword but he pulled his SMG around instead. The man had already tricked him once, and if he was still alive Kruuva wasn't going to give him a second chance. He'd only just leveled the gun when a scream made him look up in time to see a shape dive out of the black before a katana flashed and the barrel of his weapon went spinning away. He used the body of it to catch the next blow, catching sight of the white-toothed snarl across the face of the gray vixen before she sidestepped and slashed again, the attack making him gasp as the tip sliced across his side and he took a step back. She was on him again even as he grabbed the hilt of his short sword, cutting lightly across his breastplate before he got his own blade free and brought it around. The last thing he saw was the hatred in her eyes before the blow took her head from her body.

There was nothing left of his previous quarry but a puddle of ichor, and it was at that moment that Kruuva realized the fight was over. A quartet of armored cars were lying still, one burning and two of them flipped while the last was crushed in, bodies littering the street between. Two things immediately struck him: there were fewer pack members standing than he had expected, and more of the enemy. Eight Hetaevans had fallen, three from his pack and five from Reorc's, but judging by the remaining warriors pulling Imperial soldiers to their feet or tossing away their weapons they had captured just over a dozen of them. He couldn't help but notice while there were also a dozen of the larger armored suits lying in heaps they hadn't managed to get any of them to surrender.

"Some of the scuts got away," Kruuva's second, the nigh-giantess called Kamrail, came with his bastard sword in one hand. "A few trucks, some of the infantry, most of those big suits. Off into the jungle. We can probably catch them." He could hear the eagerness in her voice -judging by the blood on her armor she'd gotten her share of combat. No doubt she was looking for captives.

He looked down the road into the dark jungle as he took his sword from her. “No,” Kruuva turned away.

“You’re just going to let them go?” Kamrail’s head reared back. “I can take a few packmates and-“

“Again they would expect you, scattering our packs and wasting our time for a few truckloads of people who don’t even fight,” he rounded on Kamrail, staring at her with a lashing armored tail. “We will take these prisoners, and put them into local custody so we can prepare for the battle ahead. There are thousands of Imperial troops still active on this world. And I don’t see you lasting long if you go running off after every supposedly weak force that crosses your path,” his ears had sunk dangerously low to his furred skull, orange eyes burning in the darkness. The Hetaevan tensed, and for a moment they all stood there in the rain, staring at each other.

Then Kamrail raised her head, lifting her chin high and baring her throat to him. Nothing more needed to be said. Looking across to Reorc, Kruuva twitched his tail in the direction of the city and the packs began to form up around their prisoners. He was just stepping around the husk of one of the armored cars when his nose picked up a scent, distantly and strangely familiar. Slowing, Kruuva followed his snout to look down at the body of a kitsune clad in white armor, though it had taken on plenty of black and red from the shrapnel that had blasted into their back. Kneeling, he pulled the corpse out of the gutter and found himself looking into two sets of eyes, one a Necrian gold and the other the blood-red eyes of the white kit she had all but wrapped her body around.

“Two more,” he reached out and scooped them both up into his arms. “Let’s go.”

Necropolis...

Talon Master Hibiki stood alone in her quarters. The mirror in front of her reflected her sable fur and dark hair, intersecting smoothly with her equally black armor. It was her old Imperial Marine set, stripped of Xiscapian insignia and done up in SIN colors, familiar after she’d taken it into battle so many times during the civil war. Things had been harder back then, she reflected, but also that much simpler. The enemy had been so much stronger, but she had killed with a clear conscience.

The vixen stared at herself. Most of the reason she had fought at all was because she had refused to leave Daliha behind, staying at her side through all of the old Dominion’s discrimination and social pressures until things devolved into outright war. Yet now here she was, bowing to the demands of the nation that had risen from the ashes, headed back against what had been her home. Traitor. She couldn’t shake the thought.
Maybe she didn’t deserve to.

A chime sounded, alerting her to the fact that they were only a few minutes from the drop, and Hibiki turned. There was no time for second thoughts. Her talon –the Necrian equivalent of a platoon- was depending on her to lead them well. The core was a score of Xiscapian nationals and anti-AXIS volunteers, with a collection of seasoned mercenaries and trustworthy Necrians to round out the unit and crew the vehicles respectively. Such a mixture needed effective leadership to keep from breaking apart, and so she stepped out of the hatch and strode for the deployment bay.

She found her unit aboard the Black Tower, the talon spread out across the unloading dock that housed the company she was a part of. It was a sign of how the SIN was throwing all the stops, a conglomeration of hired guns, penal units, and her own volunteers into a motley assortment of Necrian and alien cannon fodder. The vixen had no illusions: soldiers of fortune and prisoners had a limited useful shelf life for combat, so it was no mistake that they would be among the first into the fray. The more of them who became casualties, the fewer regulars the SIN had to sacrifice. Yet she didn’t see much apprehension on the faces of her own men and women as she located her command squad.

Her platoon sergeant –she had a SIN rank but Hibki couldn’t help but think of her as such- was a Tigarian woman named Mallory. The human had been a part of the Tigarian armed forces before the KEX dissolved their empire, and unlike many of her kind she’d steered clear of terrorist radicalism in favor of learning from the Imperials as a private contractor. Now she nodded to Hibiki as the commanding officer took her place next to Daliha, the vixen’s only sign of affection the very tip of her tail brushing against her fingertips as she looked around at her troops. Five others looked back at the heads of their own units: the Olacian woman Dirthdlues and her elfin mercenaries, the tod Yasutaka and his volunteers, the berrax male Callin and his privateers, the boolean woman who went by Sabba and her “volunteers” (special forces to Hibki’s eye, not that she was one to turn down help), and finally her Necrian liaison Sethaman. As the spire shook around her from being detached Hibiki began.

“Our objective is Our Holy Lady General Hospital, located in the northern sector of Korfel’s central district. It’s got about 500 beds with a similar number of staff, seven floors, non-fortified. Our interest in it is that the better part of an Imperial mechanized rifle company made it there and has holed up inside. There’s a Night Guard company of militia pinning them along with a police detachment and a hundred or so partisans, but they haven’t been able to make much progress so our company is being sent to reinforce them. We are to secure the objective from the Imperials with as minimal damage to it, they’ll need the hospital up and running again as soon as possible.

“All Imperial armed forces personnel are to be considered hostile. Any Night Guard or police you see in your A.O. should be friendly, but there’s always the chance of loyalists, so keep your ears up. There will be a lot of Necrians in civvie clothing running around with weapons, they should be considered friendly until proven otherwise. If you see any armed non-Necrians who aren’t wearing a SIN uniform, assume hostile. Any questions?”

There were none.

“Good. We’re on point for touchdown so mount up. Once we have the LZ secured and the company deployed we’ll move on the objective.” With that she turned away, striding for her Scarab among the hustle of her platoon boarding their own vehicles. In the confines of the troop compartment she could only look through the gun ports as the APCs hummed to life under the hands of their Necrian crews.

Even as the loading ramp lowered and the Scarabs began to file out of the bay Hibiki was receiving updates on the landing zone. It was a sizable park full of dark green grass and trees with blue-frosted tips and leaves, all waterlogged from the storm beneath the tall buildings along the perimeter. There were no signs of life hostile or otherwise as the Scarabs began to spread out, automatically moving to form a cordon around the mothership. She listened to the chatter coming across her commlink as her Scarab hovered its way to an intersection, eyes narrowing. Even attacking a surprised and outnumbered enemy, this was too easy.

The only warning she got was her ears pricking up at the high-pitched whistle from overhead. “Incoming!” she yelled across all bands, but it was too late. The first shells slammed into soil and street alike, sending geysers of dirt and rock into the air to shower back down onto Hibiki’s Scarab with clinks and thuds. The reverberating tremble combined with a drawn-out explosion told her the artillery had hit something volatile, but she couldn’t tell what it was as the armored vehicle swung around wildly to make for an alleyway. They had just slotted in, the driver skillfully pivoting the Scarab sideways for the vehicle coming behind them, when a mortar dropped.

Hibiki never saw the bomb, but she felt it shake her Scarab as the one behind hers went up in flames. Holding her rifle tightly, she looked out the port to see the APC burning, the screams from the soldiers aboard filtering through as the back hatch opened and the booleans within all tried to escape at once. Their armor was melting on their bodies, licked with fire and turning green, blue, and red skin all black. The first one out made it less than a meter before crumpling and the others piled up just off the ramp, staggering and tripping over each other, slipping on their own liquefied fat, all shiny silver of boiling metal streaming across charcoaled forms. The smell of charred flesh reached her nose, and she heard someone in her vehicle retch.

A groan drowned out everything else with a rumble that seemed to shake the world, and it only intensified as one of the buildings crumbled. “The spire!” someone yelled, and she looked out the other way to see one of the skyscrapers collapsing against the lander. For a moment it seemed like the spire was going to hold, glass and steel shattering against its armored plates, but the weight of the building leaned in and Hibiki could only watch as the Black Tower tipped and finally came down with a crash that bounced her Scarab off the ground before it settled. Even through all the billowing dust and smoke she could see fires burning along the spire’s length. For a beat she was afraid that no one had survived the strike, but a few moments later her comms pinged. It was a text-only message:

BLACK TOWER HAS SUSTAINED SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE. CASUALTIES HEAVY. REMAINING TROOPS WILL EXTRACT THEMSELVES. PROCEED INDEPENDENTLY TO PRIOR OBJECTIVE. YOUR ORDERS ARE UNCHANGED.

“Shit,” the vixen muttered to herself. “Daliha, with me. We’ll check that Scarab for survivors. The rest of you sit tight.” With that she pushed the rear hatch open and set foot on Fel’tethra proper.

After only a few steps it became clear she was on a fool’s errand. The boolean special forces team was so dead they may as well have never been born. She couldn’t even recognize their species anymore, not with their liquefied armor and melted skin fusing them into a single, many-limbed form oozing red from beneath the dark crust of what had once been facial features. Hibiki could just make out their curled hands, fingers locked, lips burned away to expose flashes of white teeth, and eye sockets hollowed out by the heat. The Scarab continued to burn, but the screaming had long since ceased.
Shaking her head, Hibiki turned away.

With four Scarabs instead of five the talon moved through Korfel’s dark, wet streets. The only light came from the fires burning in rubble or destroyed vehicles and the occasional flash of lancer fire in the distance, illuminating small, brief patches around them. At one point the Scarabs maneuvered around the remains of a small convoy of vehicles, all twisted husks of trucks doused by the typhoon’s rain, but she couldn’t tell whether they had been hostile, friendly, or civilian. For most of the trip the sounds of battle were far off, the boom of artillery competing with SIN fighters swooping low over the city, but as they drew closer to the hospital Hibiki noticed that there were more ships in the air than she had expected. By the time they turned onto the last block she already knew what had happened.

Our Lady General Hospital had been reduced to a pile of smoking debris. It was surrounded by more detritus from the conflict, burned-out Imperial IFVs, Scarabs, police vehicles, and of course bodies. Most of them were in the black armor of Night Guards or in civilian clothing, lying sprawled with lancers dropped nearby, but there were plenty more Necrians standing alive and well in what had been the cordon around the hospital. “Let us out at their front line,” Hibiki instructed the driver, and the Scarab slowed to a halt just before the mass of militia. Tail lashing, she pushed her way out of the cabin and emerged onto the street, a scowl across her muzzle behind her helmet.

“Who’s in command here?” she asked as she stepped up to the loose collection of soldiers and militants. She heard more than saw her squad following behind her, the other Scarabs unloading in expectation, so her gaze swept across the men and women before her. Most of their faces were covered, by bandanas and makeshift balaclavas if not full helmets, but something about the way they stood and regarded her seemed off. No one said anything. Just when Hibiki was getting ready to raise her voice, a few of the soldiers parted and one of the Night Guards stepped up, rifle slung.

“Acting Phalanx Master Kander,” he looked down at the shorter vixen and Hibiki could imagine him turning up his nose in the way he arched his head. “Who the hell are you?”

Hibiki bit down on the urge to say something rude. “Talon Master Hibiki, Solar Imperium of Necrotia Armed Services. The rest of the relief company is held up. What happened to Our Lady General?”

“The Imperials were too heavily entrenched. I determined it was impossible to take the position without unacceptably heavy casualties, so I requested an air strike.”

She took a step closer, less than a foot from Kander. “And what about the civilians inside?”

The man held his ground, not so much as hesitating. “All already dead. The Imperials massacred them soon after they arrived, we had it on good authority from the partisans who were here and saw the bodies. We gave that company a better burial than they deserved.”

“I was a part of the Imperial Marines for years. Xiscapian troops don’t slaughter unarmed civilians.” Their helmets were only inches away, and beneath hers Hibiki could feel her lips peeling back above her teeth. “That’s bullshit. I smell a rat.”

“Are you calling me a liar, fox?”

“More than that. I smell a rat who can’t cover his droppings.” Hibiki raised a hand, signaling her talon forward. She was aware that Tavetha and Vesha had stepped up somewhere behind her command squad, waiting expectantly as the Scarabs began to maneuver with her squads. “I’m taking command of this area of operations, and of your troops.”

“You can’t do that!” Kander took a step back, fists tightening. “I outrank you, talon master!”

“You’re only an acting phalanx master, Talon Master Kander. Which means you and I are on the same level, and I have my orders. Unless you want to try to explain to the rest of my phalanx why you disobeyed my reasonable commands when they arrive,” Hibiki half-turned, sweeping her tail in a sign that brought her two best women forward even as she faced Mallory. “Spread out and search the area for any survivors. Make sure what’s left of that site is secure. I don’t like what this looks like.”

She looked at Tavetha, tail twisting around to indicate Kander. “If he tries to run, shoot him. Preferably in the knees.” Waving on Daliha to come with her, Hibiki followed her troops past the milling Night Guards. Kander watched her go, hands still balled, as the cloaked figures skulked along the perimeter.
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
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Founded: Mar 13, 2007
Ex-Nation

Postby Xiscapia » Sun Mar 04, 2018 12:49 am

Joint Base Shield...

Kazuki stumbled down the tower’s steps, mind reeling from it all as he kept his hands locked against the back of his head under the watchful eyes of the Necrian soldiers. They’d lost Specialist Silero to a sniper on the way in, and now Corporal Wise and Specialist Miriya were both lying on the temple’s floor, badly wounded if not dead. He only needed to smell the stench of lancer-charred flesh and fur to know what happened to the unit that had been holding the building. How many had died under his command now? As many as half a dozen, he knew. He’d kept count.

Yet he couldn’t help but watch through his helmet’s sensors as the cloaked man came out behind them. He seemed like he had been leading the SIN unit, and he had somehow known Kazuki’s name, but with his hood up the tod hadn’t been able to make out any features. For a few seconds he was distracted by the sight of the monstrous ship hanging overhead, a black blight in the sky that even the typhoon hadn’t been as the same storm dispersed around it. Then the Necrian behind him gave him a light push and Kazuki turned on heel to face him as the man pulled his mask away to reveal a familiar face. He reacted almost instantly.

“Don’t you touch her!” His fist cracked across Fel’s cheek, sending the man sprawling. “I swear I’ll kill-“ That was as far as he got before one of Fel’s troopers slammed her rifle butt into his belly, making Kazuki double over before someone else took their stock into his helmet, sending him facedown into the dirt. Hands grabbed his arms, legs, and even his tail and the aches in his stomach and skull intensified as they bodily tossed him into the crowd of Imperial soldiers. More hands were on him as he half-rolled, coughing through the pain, but his fellow Imperials were helping him up, Kazuki swaying before he was able to properly lean against Noa. He’d barely gotten his bearings before one of the SIN soldiers got on top of a burned-out car, waving for their attention. She spoke out in a volume-modulated voice that echoed over Kazuki’s surviving fellows and the other Imperial troops who had given up the fight as they were marched from the shadows of the base.

“Imperial soldiers. You will remove any remaining weapons and all armor, clothing, equipment, gear, supplies, and other accoutrements. Stand with your legs apart and hands locked behind your heads. Necrotian troops will relive you of those effects, after which you will be transferred into the custody of our allied colonial forces. Under their supervision each of you will begin to repay your debts to these people and the damage that you have done to Necrian civilization.

“Understand that this is not weakness, but mercy. Liberation is at hand and the people you took for granted before have deigned to allow you to live so you can atone. The Goddess teaches that grace begets gratefulness, and you would all be wise to learn from her. And know that any resistance or disobedience will not be tolerated,” her voice hardened. “Work hard and repair what you have done, and your lives will have meaning-“

All of Korfel seemed to shudder In that moment, drowning the woman out. A light blazed, turning the city as bright as day and making the shadows stretch long as an amaranthine portal yawned open above the center of the city. It was a column of perfect darkness, expanding perceptibly even as they all watched, and somehow he couldn’t bring himself to look away even though it was still well distant. Kazuki’s eyes widened, ears pinning back as he recognized the signature aura of a Xiscapian Jaunt rift being opened, and for the first time he saw inside without any sensors or shields between him and it.
In the blink of an eye it was all gone, eerily soundlessly, with only the angry flare of the flagship’s shields overhead leaving a trace of the disturbance.

It changed nothing. Kazuki unfolded from his armor, wearily beginning to pack it down as the perimeter guards watched. Sensitive vulpine ears caught references to the spaceport from men and women further distant, and whispers of entire divisions swallowed up into nothingness, but all he could do was stare at his pistol as he laid it on the ground next to his suit. So I am always at your side. It would have been impossible to hide for long, but he exhaled while the thickest part of his tail carefully coiled around his cell phone from his discarded belt and skinsuit. Sanjia would have called him if she could have. No matter how long he had to hide it, he needed to know.

Governor’s Convoy…

“We estimate about 135,000 civilians fled or were killed during the battle, and there are thousands more wounded or displaced. This is particularly true in Tamarow where a landslide devastated the city. The good news is that between the remaining alien and dissident population and the captured Imperials we should be able to mobilize a labor force of 15-20,000 to assist in cleanup and reconstruction, which will lift some of the financial and logistical burdens from the colony. Unfortunately Major General Agathu reported that the 6th Night Guards were all but crippled until they can train and equip enough reservists, and my department’s own numbers say we’ve lost about a third of our officers. Even if the burden was shared equally between the Night Guards and the police it would still require twenty percent of our forces to be guarding the working groups at all times. I recommend hiring private contractors to make up for the manpower shortfall…”

Lady Talia Cednyu, the new Governor of Fel’tethra, stared out the window of her sedan at the warship hovering over her capital as the police commissioner droned on. She had deliberately absented herself from the Government Center and the negotiations, safely forewarned, and had hoped and prayed for the invasion’s success even as she’d kept her head down. Only now, hours later as the SIN and the beleaguered colonial troops finally achieved nominal control over the city, was it safe enough for her to come out. Even then she had to ride with an escort, something she’d never needed before, but there were too few Imperial bodies in the streets for her liking. Not to mention certain Necrians.

“…starport is completely destroyed. There is now a chasm about one kilometer in diameter where that facility was, along with the better part of four blocks around it. SIN forces likely took heavy casualties, easily five figures, but as far as anyone can tell it completely annihilated the Imperial holdouts. The lack of a starport means that the city can’t support heavy landers so we’ll have to use the port at Belle Haven, but it shouldn’t do more than slow things down. Shouldn’t present a real security threat.”

“Have you located Lady Tyrass?” she asked pointedly.

Commissioner Vlammir blinked. “No, my lady. She seems to have disappeared during the attack on the Government Center, along with her daughter and son-in-law. We don’t know whether she escaped or not.”

“Find her. You understand that as long as she lives she can still threaten my legitimacy?” Talia arched an eyebrow at the man. “The people here liked her, despite who she was. If she was dead it wouldn’t matter, but I haven’t seen a body. And if she’s out there, she will come back.”

“Wouldn’t Kelaetra stop her, my lady?”

“I don’t know. She did everything she was supposed to, but she married a kitsune,” she wrinkled her nose. “SIN intelligence might trust her, but I don’t. Best case scenario is that all three of them died when the Imperials bombed the Center. Still, I want verification.”

“Yes, my lady. My officers will be on the lookout for her and her family.” Talia considered that as the car pulled to a halt outside of the arranged meeting location with the SIN representative: none other than the Empress herself. A Night Guard got the door for her, shielding her from the last of the rain with an umbrella before Vlammir joined her to make their way up the steps of the luxury hotel. No reason why Empress Necrythan had to know about the failure before it became anything to worry about, she decided. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

Ashfield Grand Hotel, Conference Room...

Major Dai grunted as he was dropped to the carpeted floor, suppressing a groan as his bare, bruised body trembled from the impact of being thrown to his knees. The shackles on his wrists and ankles were tight and cold, made all the more so by the water that dripped from his soaked fur. Periodically he dripped red from his ears, navel, and between his legs where the cloaked men had torn out his piercings, and he could still taste blood in his mouth from the same. He drew his waterlogged tail around himself for warmth, but it was balmy and the carpet was soft enough for even him to be marginally comfortable. He looked up, a pair of golden eyes scanning the room the insurgents had brought him to.

There was a long table that dominated half of the room, higher than his head, made of what seemed to be a dark glass before he realized it was black water. Pale fish flitted through the gloom of the aquarium as a handful of well-dressed Necrians set places atop the glass with crystal chalices, bloodwine, and small platters of smoked meats. At the far end a woman was sitting on one of the overstuffed chairs surrounding the table, a glass already in hand, and her ebony dress spilling down her white flesh as she hazed the air with drags from a wooden pipe. She regarded him with mild interest over the rim of her drink, pointed ears twitching and making her diamond-shaped earrings bob as one of the partisans stepped around him. After a moment her eyes found the man who had stepped forward as he shrugged out of his long coat and tossed it across the table.

“I do not see why you had to bring one of them, Callas.”

“Oh, this one’s special,” the one called Callas smiled, the look making his face twist around the old wound that had cut from one eye down the bridge of his nose and across his cheek. “He was at the Government Center, weren’t you foxy?” His boot slammed into Dai’s ribs and the kitsune doubled over, coughing. “We know what you did. Soon they will too. I can’t wait to see what they do to you,” he chuckled and the two fighters behind him guffawed.

The woman cocked her head, inhaling another lungful of whatever she was smoking before exhaling it through her high-bridged nose. As he held one arm over his side Dai noticed that the pipe was stylized as dozens of hands joining together as if to cup the bowl for her. “Well?”

“He killed the Hetaevan ambassador. Master Harek was here as a representative of the Hetaevan people, and he was dumb enough to kill him and get caught. So we’ll turn him over, see what they dream up for him,” Callas sneered. “That is, unless they don’t want him. I’d relish the chance to cut off his-“

On the far side of the room the door opened and another Necrian stepped through. Unlike the finely-clothed staff and woman or the thugs in their cloaks and fatigues he wore a simple robe drawn around him with a hemp sash, which was visibly soaked and stained. He smelled of blood and soot and tears, but he walked steadily if slowly across the conference area. His face was lined with wrinkles and freckled with liver spots, weathered by the light of alien stars, and when he looked at Dai his expression was not unkind. Without a word he pulled the canteen from his belt and held it out to the Xiscapian.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Callas roughly grabbed Dai’s shoulder, hauling him back and sending him sprawling between the pair of insurgents. “I didn’t say he could have a damn thing.”

“I was only offering him a drink.”

“He don’t deserve it. It’s a waste anyhow, he won’t be wanting for much longer. He’s fixing to get punished for his sins.”

“Necrisis blessed us all with reason, and this is what you choose.” He looked back at the woman at the table, who just rolled her eyes, before returning to Callas. “All this over pieces of the ground.”

“Our pieces of the ground, High Priest,” the smoking woman crossed her legs. “We were here first. Now the Dominion has returned for us. It’s all as it should be.”

“No,” the Necrian said, still staring at Callas. “Untold numbers of people have died today. Most of them were Necrians. I know this. Why?”

“You gotta be willing to kill some healthy flesh if you’re gonna kill the disease,” Callas shrugged. “If it’s too close, you can’t risk the infection. Same with these vulpines and our people. Some of them got too close, you know?” He gazed at him. “Don’t know where their loyalties lie.”

“Wretched is a Necrian who would not raise her eyes to heaven knowing of her little time here.”

“Don’t quote scripture at me, old man,” Callas snarl-hissed, taking a step forward. “Whose people were out there in the streets tonight? Mine! While you priests cowered in your churches, or, Goddess forbid, actually helped the traitors, we were fighting for the Necrian people. And there’s gonna be a reckoning. Everybody’s gonna have to account for what they did or didn’t do. Hope you’re ready.” He grinned.

The High Priest drew himself up, though the other man was still nearly a head taller. “I follow the dictums of the Goddess. Fear is a stranger to all her true servants.”

Before Callas got a chance to respond two more Necrians entered. One was a tall, very pale man in a police officer’s dress uniform, an honor blade at his side, drawn face grim. Beside him the woman Dai recognized as the lieutenant governor surveyed the room, dressed in a caped double-breasted tunic. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him. “Dispose of the kitsune, please,” she clasped her hands. “He shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re right and we will,” Callas smirked. “We’re gonna present him to them. He killed the Hetaevan ambassador. Figured they’d want him for, mmm, justice.”

“Fine,” Talia waved a dismissive hand. “Just take a seat, all of you. She’ll be here any moment.”
Xis quote of the week: Altaria Almighty: how are you not just a race of sexual predators? Like who needs power armour and gauss rifles when you have leather and whips. –Karaig
The Kitsune Empire of Xiscapia's FT Factbook (V2.5)
R.I.P. Shal - 1/17/10

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