Before running behind the building to start her escape route she stopped by the corner and sees the fight happening at the square between CL and Bravo. Still with pistol in hand she stood behind the corner and decided to observe the fight seeing the fighting practices of both combatants. "Better watch, might learn something new" she said as she watched ignoring the incoming large mech.
It didn't feel right. The air was once again filled with something else, something foreboding which made Nirix pause. What was it this time? It couldn't be Kallenger, the bullet that Nirix had shot through her would no doubt leave her immobile for a while. She was strong, Nirix had sensed that the first time she had seen her but even with that she wouldn't dare try to come after them. That was asking for a death wish. So what was it?
It was loud, not too loud that it was close by but still nonetheless...loud. Something to at least, consider.
Nirix exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding before continuing on. The trail of tiny patters of blood was dwindling down to what the Eoclu hoped would led her to the Da'len. He was an elusive one, Nirix gave him that. Crafty and borne of the shadows almost like Nirix herself. It indeed had to be a sign from the Divines themselves for Nirix to have met Ketin. What Kallenger had said, attempted to persuade her to see about him would stay in her mind but for now it was something to discuss later.
Through the small shrubbery and around a rock, The Eoclu had found him. He looked fine, albeit a tad bit pale. His job of patching up his ear was almost laughable to Nirix but that wasn't the main point. Kete was okay, banged up and possibly bleeding but breathing nonetheless.
All very good signs.
"Da'len, ar lasa mala revas," She said daringly, a small smile gracing her features. "You are free, at least for now. However I will ensure that you keep your freedom,"
It was loud, not too loud that it was close by but still nonetheless...loud. Something to at least, consider.
Nirix exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding before continuing on. The trail of tiny patters of blood was dwindling down to what the Eoclu hoped would led her to the Da'len. He was an elusive one, Nirix gave him that. Crafty and borne of the shadows almost like Nirix herself. It indeed had to be a sign from the Divines themselves for Nirix to have met Ketin. What Kallenger had said, attempted to persuade her to see about him would stay in her mind but for now it was something to discuss later.
Through the small shrubbery and around a rock, The Eoclu had found him. He looked fine, albeit a tad bit pale. His job of patching up his ear was almost laughable to Nirix but that wasn't the main point. Kete was okay, banged up and possibly bleeding but breathing nonetheless.
All very good signs.
"Da'len, ar lasa mala revas," She said daringly, a small smile gracing her features. "You are free, at least for now. However I will ensure that you keep your freedom,"
Doctor Dorin Harkahn was not a particularly happy man. This as, surprisingly, not because of the madness ensuing around him, but rather because of his distinct uselessness in the entire ordeal. He had been so certain that the codes would work! But now he was just some scrawny guy with a radio hiding in a blown-out building while his friend blasted enemies away in droves.
For a few minutes, the Doctor dwelled on this, leaning against the wall where he sat upon the floor, crossing his arms thoughtfully, trying to figure out some way which he could justify his presence there.
Thereafter he shrugged, gave a heaving sigh almost as if he were not happy with his own decision, and drew his adaptive energy weapon, ‘Arcade Cannon’ from the holster inside his white coat. Sitting by one of the windows to Rivierre’s far left and being sure to keep down, he fiddled with the myriad of switches and dials and buttons that adorned the complex little thing.
CL had tried a pulse rifle to disable the bot and it hadn’t worked. That meant a few things to Harkahn, gave to a few possibilities.
On one hand, the bot could simply be too old to be effected by modern technology.
Or he could be designed to defend against such attacks. There had to be some way of deactivating him!
He peered over the windowsill, went mercifully unnoticed for the time being. The tide of battle had largely flowed to the far east, where the frontal assault was now beginning to be at last repelled by Kampfer’s superior forces.
He watched the combat droid as it flailed around, doing battle with the equally, and impressively matched Ranger. He looked real close. What would an old bot like that need, that a modern wouldn’t have?
Hyper-liquid cooling, positronic brain….brain. Software. That was it – cables! Most modern robots could have software beamed into them, but an old one like that would likely need an input port for a cable. Where would it be? Harkahn was not having an easy time getting a good look at the rapidly moving thing, and his vantage point was becoming increasingly less effective.
Nothing. It simply was not economical to keep his head out of cover for long enough to try and get a glance at him.
So, screw it he thought, and set Arcade Cannon to a setting which, if the beam projectile happened to contact any sort of conductive data input, it would do…something. Perhaps shut it down, perhaps paralyze it, pacify it, maybe totally fry it. The beam would have little to no effect in terms of destruction…
But damned if he was going to do nothing! Getting the settings just perfect, he covered one ear, raised his hand over the windowsill while keeping the rest of him hidden, and…started shooting.
Who knows? He might get lucky. Insanely lucky. Granted, a man of science should not be counting on luck, but dammit, SPECIAL had to stand for something.
So, maybe the eye wasn’t quite working at full capacity any more. Or maybe the Eoclu’s brain was more resistant to his abilities. Maybe he was just lost in thought, or the furious, intense pain from his ear was just making him slow. Whatever the reason, Kete let out a rather un-masculine yelp and flailed in the general direction of ‘opposite’ to the cause of it – which had been that pesky bounty hunter. Except…she didn’t seem to be a bounty hunter. Not at the moment, anyway. Kete felt reservation, but honesty.
It didn’t really help.
With that yelp and flail he found himself stumbling into the rock he had been leaning against, catching himself clumsily and sort of skidding and flailing and waving about until he could once more maintain a steady footing. He had moved a few feet away in the process, and now stood slightly more in the open. His posture didn’t quite read ‘ready to flee’, nor did it read ‘preparing to attack’.
He got that look over him again – a similar look to the one he had gotten just before smacking on his new potential friends and fleeing. Not exactly the same, however. It was thought – it was someone in a desperate situation, knowing they had to think very, very fast and come up with something good – and they had to fully understand the situation to do so. As though he were charged with disarming a planet-busting bomb.
It got through after a moment that this woman was not after him. It actually got through – he put everything he had blindly read together logically and yes, she seemed to be insisting on helping him, even if tentatively. That would not do.
He stepped away, put a hand out with a finger up in a gesture of ‘stay away!’
“Uh, nooonononono.” He said, breathing heavily, “No that’s the last thing you want to do – didn’t she tell you who I am? I-I’m Devil Eye! She said it herself didn’t she? I’m dangerous – v…very dangerous! I’ve, I’ve slaughtered armies and ruined cities!” A flail of the arms for emphasis.
He was so bad at being intimidating. He looked much more frightened than menacing, and it was reflected in his unsteady voice. “I’ll give you o-one chance to get out of here and never see me again, after that…after that….y-you don’t wanna know what comes after that. I’m vicious! I’m a terrible-evil-nasty-rotten-nogood-lowdown-sonofabitch and y-you, you don’t wanna’ defend me, okay? You don’t.”
It was as if maybe, in some alternate universe, those last two words managed to come out with a twinge of foreboding or menace. Not in this one, though. The potential was there, but totally untapped.
The too-short, too-kiddish redhead stepped back still a little more, ears down behind him still holding out an arm. “You don’t wanna’ try and be on my side, y’understand? I’m not the kind of character worth associating with, it’ll look terrible on your resume and I’m no fun at parties. I ruin social circles and slaughter peoples’ families for fun! I, I, I’m intentionally passive aggressive and I find the suffering of others amusing and kick puppies for fun and you don’t want anything to do with me- y-you’re lucky I haven’t just, just gone all psychokinetic psychopath on you already! T-that’s what I’d usually do y’know, I’m crazy! Y-you’re only getting this chance ‘cause you got me lunch, otherwise I’d have already, already exploded your head with my brain and, and filmed it or something!”
He was talking a mile a minute, still out of breath because he hadn’t stopped long enough to really regain it from the earlier fatigue. It seemed he was almost done now though. Slicing his arm through the air in a negatory gesture he said again “You do not want anything to do with me, y’hear? N-now go away! Get outta’ here! Go! I don’t want your help anyway!”
Granted, he had managed to add a fox-like growl to the last part, strengthening his stance just a little. It was still far from intimidating, but it was closer. That much more genuine.
President Eisenglower, a short, portly man with a band of hair that clung to the back of his head and one more chin than he would have liked, slammed his porky fist down on the desk. He was a good man, actually – much more than his image of an evil, pig-like dictator seemed to portray. He had always been an honest politician and, more or less, worked for the good of the people of Earth City. (FUNFACT: Incredibly uncreative settlers named the nation of which Earth City was the capitol…Earth City. It was the Country of Earth City. On the continent of Earth City. Don’t question it.)
“Dammit man! he barked, cheeks rippling with the force of it. “The entire country has been reduced to nothing in some six hours! They’re tearing the whole city apart – what in the Great Galaxy Wide are the defense forces doing out there?!”
“Mr. President, with all due respect-“ growled a tall, vaguely gaunt and grey haired man in full military decoration who provided a stark contrast, “Have you seen what we’re up against out there? The things are taller than most of the buildings.” General Sanders was always the voice of reason.
Secretary of Defense Haskill Rant also pounded his fist on the table and barked something.
Before long the entire conference room was reduced to a madhouse of politicians in expensive suits banging on the great table like apes and shouting at each other. All except the President and General, who stood stony faced and stark miserable, watching over the pitiful sight that was Eisenglower’s excuse for a cabinet.
They exchanged subtle glances – the President gave a little nod – and General Sanders unholstered the semi automatic pistol from under his arm, casually raised it, and fired one round into the ceiling. Bits of plaster sprinkled lightly onto his head, but nobody notice that.
Red in the face, a whole cabinet of angry men settled down and allowed the President to speak once more.
“Look.” He said with a heaving sigh, leaning heavily, exhaustedly on the table. “I am precisely the last man in this country who wants to admit this, but…we’ve lost. We’ve been attacked completely out of nowhere, no provocation, nothing. And General Sanders is right – we don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell against one tenth of that army, let alone the rest of that, that Kamper’s full power. Kampfer. Whatever his name is. It’s stupid.”
A few deep breaths, he crossed his arms, looked down into them with a pout, as if the second chin which there rolled was very displeasing.
“I’m issuing an unconditional surrender.” He said at last, and nobody was particularly surprised. “General Sanders, have all military and defense forces stand down. Get that sonofabitch on the line, someone. I’ll inform him personally.”
Sooner or later they would get him on a visual circuit. The President stood with cabinet behind him, hands behind back, looking soberly at the madman in the screen.
“Mr. Kampfer – or is it ‘Lord’? – It is apparent that your forces are overwhelmingly superior to our own, and our defenses are inadequate to fend you off. Therefore I wish to hear your demands and comply with them unconditionally in order to guarantee the safety of my people…”
When he was finished speaking with Kampfer – whatever the result – he would somberly address the country over every band that was still active. The entire country had been shut down in a day, unraveled, all institutions failing miserably. It was not a good day for the nation of Earth City.
Staff Sergeant Zeiller cussed loudly – too loudly – and violently – too violently – threw whatever happened to be nearest to his hand at the time – in this case, that was a brick.
“@#$%!!”
The remainder of the platoon – which consisted of Lance Corporal Dallen Armston, Lance Corporal Jerry Reed, Private First Class Fellerton Sands, Private Shanston Reltakov, and Seargent Harlan Ducote – all looked to him. Naturally, when the platoon leader barked a cuss and threw a brick, it meant something bad had happened.
Platoon D was a standard small defense unit. The soldiers were armed and armored just as one might expected them to be. Each was equipped with an EyePal – a fancy little device which hooked around the ear, clung to the temple, and produced a screen over the user’s dominant eye. It was operated mostly by thought, and actually constituted an earlier model of the BrainPal used by Petrovalyc’s crew.
The Platoon had taken cover in a building which had been largely destroyed by one of the colossal war giants. Not the best idea, but it had been the only place to go to escape the overwhelming firepower they had been faced with. The unit was well trained, efficiently mobilized and run – but they stood no chance. None of them did.
Yet it was in the heart of the soldier the need to fight until the end!
It was because of that fiery heart that Staff Sergeant Zeiller was so infuriated when the orders at last trickled down the line – cease fire.
Lance Corporal Dallen Armston felt the need – as usual – to make her strong opinion on the matter known.
“You’ve got to be kidding! We’ve hardly been in this fight for a day. How the @#$% are they gonna’ surrender that easily? Makes us look like a bunch’a-“
She was cut off by the softer, but no less powerful voice of Private First Class Felletron Sands, who always seemed wise beyond his years. In fact he had denied multiple promotions specifically to stay with Platoon D, and he was by all means better equipped to lead them than Zeiller was. Sands just didn’t want the responsibility.
“Dallen. Have you seen what we’re up against? And I guarantee we haven’t seen more than a fraction of what they’ve got…”
Private Shanston Reltakov didn’t usually have much to say. That left only Harlan Ducote.
He was the newest member, despite being one rank higher than Reltakov. He had been transferred from toe Orbital Guard Reserves to the Earth City Defense Force some two months ago. This had been their first real action.
“Well nothin’s stoppin’ us from shootin’.” Dallen muttered, bitterly.
For a few minutes, the Doctor dwelled on this, leaning against the wall where he sat upon the floor, crossing his arms thoughtfully, trying to figure out some way which he could justify his presence there.
Thereafter he shrugged, gave a heaving sigh almost as if he were not happy with his own decision, and drew his adaptive energy weapon, ‘Arcade Cannon’ from the holster inside his white coat. Sitting by one of the windows to Rivierre’s far left and being sure to keep down, he fiddled with the myriad of switches and dials and buttons that adorned the complex little thing.
CL had tried a pulse rifle to disable the bot and it hadn’t worked. That meant a few things to Harkahn, gave to a few possibilities.
On one hand, the bot could simply be too old to be effected by modern technology.
Or he could be designed to defend against such attacks. There had to be some way of deactivating him!
He peered over the windowsill, went mercifully unnoticed for the time being. The tide of battle had largely flowed to the far east, where the frontal assault was now beginning to be at last repelled by Kampfer’s superior forces.
He watched the combat droid as it flailed around, doing battle with the equally, and impressively matched Ranger. He looked real close. What would an old bot like that need, that a modern wouldn’t have?
Hyper-liquid cooling, positronic brain….brain. Software. That was it – cables! Most modern robots could have software beamed into them, but an old one like that would likely need an input port for a cable. Where would it be? Harkahn was not having an easy time getting a good look at the rapidly moving thing, and his vantage point was becoming increasingly less effective.
Nothing. It simply was not economical to keep his head out of cover for long enough to try and get a glance at him.
So, screw it he thought, and set Arcade Cannon to a setting which, if the beam projectile happened to contact any sort of conductive data input, it would do…something. Perhaps shut it down, perhaps paralyze it, pacify it, maybe totally fry it. The beam would have little to no effect in terms of destruction…
But damned if he was going to do nothing! Getting the settings just perfect, he covered one ear, raised his hand over the windowsill while keeping the rest of him hidden, and…started shooting.
Who knows? He might get lucky. Insanely lucky. Granted, a man of science should not be counting on luck, but dammit, SPECIAL had to stand for something.
So, maybe the eye wasn’t quite working at full capacity any more. Or maybe the Eoclu’s brain was more resistant to his abilities. Maybe he was just lost in thought, or the furious, intense pain from his ear was just making him slow. Whatever the reason, Kete let out a rather un-masculine yelp and flailed in the general direction of ‘opposite’ to the cause of it – which had been that pesky bounty hunter. Except…she didn’t seem to be a bounty hunter. Not at the moment, anyway. Kete felt reservation, but honesty.
It didn’t really help.
With that yelp and flail he found himself stumbling into the rock he had been leaning against, catching himself clumsily and sort of skidding and flailing and waving about until he could once more maintain a steady footing. He had moved a few feet away in the process, and now stood slightly more in the open. His posture didn’t quite read ‘ready to flee’, nor did it read ‘preparing to attack’.
He got that look over him again – a similar look to the one he had gotten just before smacking on his new potential friends and fleeing. Not exactly the same, however. It was thought – it was someone in a desperate situation, knowing they had to think very, very fast and come up with something good – and they had to fully understand the situation to do so. As though he were charged with disarming a planet-busting bomb.
It got through after a moment that this woman was not after him. It actually got through – he put everything he had blindly read together logically and yes, she seemed to be insisting on helping him, even if tentatively. That would not do.
He stepped away, put a hand out with a finger up in a gesture of ‘stay away!’
“Uh, nooonononono.” He said, breathing heavily, “No that’s the last thing you want to do – didn’t she tell you who I am? I-I’m Devil Eye! She said it herself didn’t she? I’m dangerous – v…very dangerous! I’ve, I’ve slaughtered armies and ruined cities!” A flail of the arms for emphasis.
He was so bad at being intimidating. He looked much more frightened than menacing, and it was reflected in his unsteady voice. “I’ll give you o-one chance to get out of here and never see me again, after that…after that….y-you don’t wanna know what comes after that. I’m vicious! I’m a terrible-evil-nasty-rotten-nogood-lowdown-sonofabitch and y-you, you don’t wanna’ defend me, okay? You don’t.”
It was as if maybe, in some alternate universe, those last two words managed to come out with a twinge of foreboding or menace. Not in this one, though. The potential was there, but totally untapped.
The too-short, too-kiddish redhead stepped back still a little more, ears down behind him still holding out an arm. “You don’t wanna’ try and be on my side, y’understand? I’m not the kind of character worth associating with, it’ll look terrible on your resume and I’m no fun at parties. I ruin social circles and slaughter peoples’ families for fun! I, I, I’m intentionally passive aggressive and I find the suffering of others amusing and kick puppies for fun and you don’t want anything to do with me- y-you’re lucky I haven’t just, just gone all psychokinetic psychopath on you already! T-that’s what I’d usually do y’know, I’m crazy! Y-you’re only getting this chance ‘cause you got me lunch, otherwise I’d have already, already exploded your head with my brain and, and filmed it or something!”
He was talking a mile a minute, still out of breath because he hadn’t stopped long enough to really regain it from the earlier fatigue. It seemed he was almost done now though. Slicing his arm through the air in a negatory gesture he said again “You do not want anything to do with me, y’hear? N-now go away! Get outta’ here! Go! I don’t want your help anyway!”
Granted, he had managed to add a fox-like growl to the last part, strengthening his stance just a little. It was still far from intimidating, but it was closer. That much more genuine.
President Eisenglower, a short, portly man with a band of hair that clung to the back of his head and one more chin than he would have liked, slammed his porky fist down on the desk. He was a good man, actually – much more than his image of an evil, pig-like dictator seemed to portray. He had always been an honest politician and, more or less, worked for the good of the people of Earth City. (FUNFACT: Incredibly uncreative settlers named the nation of which Earth City was the capitol…Earth City. It was the Country of Earth City. On the continent of Earth City. Don’t question it.)
“Dammit man! he barked, cheeks rippling with the force of it. “The entire country has been reduced to nothing in some six hours! They’re tearing the whole city apart – what in the Great Galaxy Wide are the defense forces doing out there?!”
“Mr. President, with all due respect-“ growled a tall, vaguely gaunt and grey haired man in full military decoration who provided a stark contrast, “Have you seen what we’re up against out there? The things are taller than most of the buildings.” General Sanders was always the voice of reason.
Secretary of Defense Haskill Rant also pounded his fist on the table and barked something.
Before long the entire conference room was reduced to a madhouse of politicians in expensive suits banging on the great table like apes and shouting at each other. All except the President and General, who stood stony faced and stark miserable, watching over the pitiful sight that was Eisenglower’s excuse for a cabinet.
They exchanged subtle glances – the President gave a little nod – and General Sanders unholstered the semi automatic pistol from under his arm, casually raised it, and fired one round into the ceiling. Bits of plaster sprinkled lightly onto his head, but nobody notice that.
Red in the face, a whole cabinet of angry men settled down and allowed the President to speak once more.
“Look.” He said with a heaving sigh, leaning heavily, exhaustedly on the table. “I am precisely the last man in this country who wants to admit this, but…we’ve lost. We’ve been attacked completely out of nowhere, no provocation, nothing. And General Sanders is right – we don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell against one tenth of that army, let alone the rest of that, that Kamper’s full power. Kampfer. Whatever his name is. It’s stupid.”
A few deep breaths, he crossed his arms, looked down into them with a pout, as if the second chin which there rolled was very displeasing.
“I’m issuing an unconditional surrender.” He said at last, and nobody was particularly surprised. “General Sanders, have all military and defense forces stand down. Get that sonofabitch on the line, someone. I’ll inform him personally.”
Sooner or later they would get him on a visual circuit. The President stood with cabinet behind him, hands behind back, looking soberly at the madman in the screen.
“Mr. Kampfer – or is it ‘Lord’? – It is apparent that your forces are overwhelmingly superior to our own, and our defenses are inadequate to fend you off. Therefore I wish to hear your demands and comply with them unconditionally in order to guarantee the safety of my people…”
When he was finished speaking with Kampfer – whatever the result – he would somberly address the country over every band that was still active. The entire country had been shut down in a day, unraveled, all institutions failing miserably. It was not a good day for the nation of Earth City.
Staff Sergeant Zeiller cussed loudly – too loudly – and violently – too violently – threw whatever happened to be nearest to his hand at the time – in this case, that was a brick.
“@#$%!!”
The remainder of the platoon – which consisted of Lance Corporal Dallen Armston, Lance Corporal Jerry Reed, Private First Class Fellerton Sands, Private Shanston Reltakov, and Seargent Harlan Ducote – all looked to him. Naturally, when the platoon leader barked a cuss and threw a brick, it meant something bad had happened.
Platoon D was a standard small defense unit. The soldiers were armed and armored just as one might expected them to be. Each was equipped with an EyePal – a fancy little device which hooked around the ear, clung to the temple, and produced a screen over the user’s dominant eye. It was operated mostly by thought, and actually constituted an earlier model of the BrainPal used by Petrovalyc’s crew.
The Platoon had taken cover in a building which had been largely destroyed by one of the colossal war giants. Not the best idea, but it had been the only place to go to escape the overwhelming firepower they had been faced with. The unit was well trained, efficiently mobilized and run – but they stood no chance. None of them did.
Yet it was in the heart of the soldier the need to fight until the end!
It was because of that fiery heart that Staff Sergeant Zeiller was so infuriated when the orders at last trickled down the line – cease fire.
Lance Corporal Dallen Armston felt the need – as usual – to make her strong opinion on the matter known.
“You’ve got to be kidding! We’ve hardly been in this fight for a day. How the @#$% are they gonna’ surrender that easily? Makes us look like a bunch’a-“
She was cut off by the softer, but no less powerful voice of Private First Class Felletron Sands, who always seemed wise beyond his years. In fact he had denied multiple promotions specifically to stay with Platoon D, and he was by all means better equipped to lead them than Zeiller was. Sands just didn’t want the responsibility.
“Dallen. Have you seen what we’re up against? And I guarantee we haven’t seen more than a fraction of what they’ve got…”
Private Shanston Reltakov didn’t usually have much to say. That left only Harlan Ducote.
He was the newest member, despite being one rank higher than Reltakov. He had been transferred from toe Orbital Guard Reserves to the Earth City Defense Force some two months ago. This had been their first real action.
“Well nothin’s stoppin’ us from shootin’.” Dallen muttered, bitterly.
Kmapfer looked on at the two maps of Kartupelis and Earth City with eagerness. Kampfer knew with the deployment of the Universal Colossi his victory was assured, and no need to deploy anymore experimental units. The only thing that was on his mind was the reaction from the nearby Galactic Empire, only a few system's away. "Sir, we have a communication line from the leader of Earth City nation" an operator said as he rushed into the command center to let his Lordship now. "Kampfer made a face of displeasure, seeing that he's been fighting a nation and not the planet. He sighed and said "Put him up on the monitor". Soon both the porky president and the slim white haired mad scientist met. Kampfer smiled at his surrender. He looked at his operator that's been in the same spot ever since they arrived and shook is head, a unvoiced order to cease fire of his forces. "Mr.President, my conditions are is for you to surrender all forces and hand zem over to me. Zat also includes any military bases you still have left. Since you are ze leader of Earth City nation, I doubt you can surrender ze entire planet to me, but if you can do zat,zen it be much appreciated, it vill end needless violence. Don't about her heavily damaged city, once zis planet falls under grasb I shall have repaired. I also vant you to dismantle congressional committee and your cabinet. Only you and your General Sander's vill keep your positions seeing zat you are both understandable and reasonable men." Kmapfer listed his demands as he looked over the paper that had those demands on it. "Give me a minute, gentlemen" he said to them as he looked towards his operator. The operator had muted there communications with the men and cut off the screen so they can't see. "I vant you to get bases ready for simultaneous invasions of large city's and capitals, ve must have total control of zis planet" he order the operator. The operator shook his head in compliance and started issuing orders to bases all around the planet to be ready. "So, Mr.President could you convince ze rest of ze planet to surrender or do I have to be force shed more innocent blood upon zis planet" he asked as the communications is unmuted and the monitor is licked back on for both men to see each other and wait for the defeated man to answer.
Soon Admiral Omega got a call to order a cease fire. Omega and smiled and went on the radio and said to everyone from officer to privates "CEASE FIRE!!!" Soon the guns fell silent,the laser fire stopped and the fighter bomber's returned to there carrier. Everyone held there positions, ready to fire once more an the enemy combatants. Even the giant mechs in the city stopped firing and stood still, waiting for further orders.
While in Kartupelis, the fighting was starting to die down. The mech that landed by City Hall ignored Bravo and CL deeming them insignificant threat to it and walked towards where Aelyn deployed his forces. The two Universal Colossi at either end end of the road started to obliterate the rest of Aelyn's forces and VTOLS if they were still up. Seeing that fighting may end. The bots from other parts of the city started that haven't saw any action started to come out of there buildings, a few at a time started to make there way to the city center to see what has happened to the other part of the city, they helped the citizen's bring up to shape.
Off in an undisclosed location on the Earth planet, Kampfer's "listeners" were able to gain access to the Galactic Empire's communication and battle network. They were trying to peer into what there response would be, but only saw a report of detachment of special forces, headed by Kellenger and what they were after...Ketin "Devil-Eye" Clarke with picture
Soon Admiral Omega got a call to order a cease fire. Omega and smiled and went on the radio and said to everyone from officer to privates "CEASE FIRE!!!" Soon the guns fell silent,the laser fire stopped and the fighter bomber's returned to there carrier. Everyone held there positions, ready to fire once more an the enemy combatants. Even the giant mechs in the city stopped firing and stood still, waiting for further orders.
While in Kartupelis, the fighting was starting to die down. The mech that landed by City Hall ignored Bravo and CL deeming them insignificant threat to it and walked towards where Aelyn deployed his forces. The two Universal Colossi at either end end of the road started to obliterate the rest of Aelyn's forces and VTOLS if they were still up. Seeing that fighting may end. The bots from other parts of the city started that haven't saw any action started to come out of there buildings, a few at a time started to make there way to the city center to see what has happened to the other part of the city, they helped the citizen's bring up to shape.
Off in an undisclosed location on the Earth planet, Kampfer's "listeners" were able to gain access to the Galactic Empire's communication and battle network. They were trying to peer into what there response would be, but only saw a report of detachment of special forces, headed by Kellenger and what they were after...Ketin "Devil-Eye" Clarke with picture
Harlan pipes up, "Well, seeing now that they've stopped firing.." He pauses and peers up over the rubble. "We could perhaps make our way out of here, though I wouldn't mind if we claim we never received the cease fire order and take a few of those bastards down with us." He falls silent and leans a little on his rifle.
While the enemy brought the battle to an upcoming end as fast as all of it began, the Ranger still had a job to do, regardless if that small war was almost over. Finally halting his retreat, the Ranger took a defensive stance as he quickly reached for a switch on his helmet. What happened after it was unexpected.
Followed by a blinding flash, CL's right arm were immediately engulfed by fiery blazes, apparently coming out from the exhausts-like protrusions from all over it's mechanical frame. How one cybernetic being such as him were able to keep standing after this was not quite clear, but it was easy for Bravo system's to tell that this wasn't some sort of high yield explosive going off accidentally on his enemy. For his misfortune, CL's right arm were equipped with an Hydrogen Fusion Blast Arm, and it's activation was the actual explanation for the fireworks. According to a quick analysis, the amount of hydrogen left on the Ranger's tanks were just enough to literally blast through one meter thick steel as much as a hundred times before depletion. Atomic fusion at it's best. Unfortunately, Bravo's own body was far thinner than any armor that could handle a direct blow from that weapon.
"Whatever the **** you say, Clippy!!"
Waiting no further, the Ranger concentrated on his target before recklessly propelling himself towards Bravo, with the sole intent of dealing a single, annihilative blow against his robotic enemy!
Battery Power: 70%
Hydrogen Storage: 2,675 Kilograms
Followed by a blinding flash, CL's right arm were immediately engulfed by fiery blazes, apparently coming out from the exhausts-like protrusions from all over it's mechanical frame. How one cybernetic being such as him were able to keep standing after this was not quite clear, but it was easy for Bravo system's to tell that this wasn't some sort of high yield explosive going off accidentally on his enemy. For his misfortune, CL's right arm were equipped with an Hydrogen Fusion Blast Arm, and it's activation was the actual explanation for the fireworks. According to a quick analysis, the amount of hydrogen left on the Ranger's tanks were just enough to literally blast through one meter thick steel as much as a hundred times before depletion. Atomic fusion at it's best. Unfortunately, Bravo's own body was far thinner than any armor that could handle a direct blow from that weapon.
"Whatever the **** you say, Clippy!!"
Waiting no further, the Ranger concentrated on his target before recklessly propelling himself towards Bravo, with the sole intent of dealing a single, annihilative blow against his robotic enemy!
Battery Power: 70%
Hydrogen Storage: 2,675 Kilograms
Bravo decisively slid underneath Ranger and got up to his feet as quick as he could waiting for Ranger to turn around. He held his arms out like he were to be expecting a hug and said "Listen old man, I'm only doing this because it's my inherent programming, I have nothing against you but killing and mechanics are all I know how to do so shall we get this started? No more running" Bravo then brought himself to his max capacity, an orange light flashing rapidly on his chestplate before his backplate began smoking, and it wasn't a light smoke, it was full on black smoke a plume and after a few seconds of processing everything his back palte flew off as a violent roar of smoke came streaming from his metal skeleton shortly before Bravo's body fell to the ground resulting in his body being completely useless but his memory core and his main drivers were all intact, the power core in Bravo seemed to have ignited lightly melting itself down to the point of malfunction to the droid. Everything on Bravo was now salvageable as a result of said malfunction.
Seeing the brief moment of conflict, Maria shifted back up against building, finishing off her watch of the fight. Unimpressed she said "Wow, so anticlimactic...if they don't take the body I can get father to salvage the droid itself". She made sure that her presence wasn't seen by hiding behind the building and prayed they won't take Bravo's body
Former President Hiram C. Eisenglower – 192nd and last president of ECN – winced as the table of men behind him once more erupted into furious pounding and screeching and shouting. He did not turn to face them – rather he continued to stand stark and look to the man on the screen, with eyes that said silently ‘see what I have to put up with?’
He gave it a long while, but eventually the ruckus did die off on its’ own, considering that all of the rage that the men were filled with was entirely impotent. When entropy had at last reached the maximum, they found themselves all waiting on an answer from the President – all to different questions and demands, but still waiting expectantly nonetheless.
He held up a finger to Kampfer – surprisingly bold toward the administrator of his swift defeat. Then he turned to face his men., and began his speech.
“Men. Listen to me. Listen damn good, like your lives and the lives of a million millon innocent civilians depended on it. I want you to look at the history of the Galaxy – the bigger picture, bigger than you or me, bigger than this cabinet, than this nation, than this planet. What causes war? The answer is dispute. The need for power on the part of institutions such as our own. The insecurities of men who think that being under the orders of another reduces their masculinity. Well, what if it does? What is masculinity in the face of the lives of millions or billions, or more? Should every innocent man, woman and child in this great nation be slaughtered by forces beyond our control simply to retain that you’ve got a bigger @#$% than everyone else? I think we can all agree on the answer to that.
I ask you men – what stops war? Is it victory? Fighting until the end? No. It is peace itself. It is the lack of a need for power. It is when one power unites all the men who would otherwise squabble. One power which forces us to get along, because that’s the only way it seems that men can ever get along.
It comes not in a form which we would prefer. Of course I would rather come to this consensus – this ultimatum – by my own means. But such is the reality of life. Such is evolution, when one organism becomes dominant and engulfs the others – that organism is Mr. Kampfer’s empire. We have been defeated, but in the face of our defeat we can better the world, better mankind, by contributing to the unification of all men. Might life under the rule of Mr. Kampfer be miserable? Perhaps. That I cannot say. Hopefully not. But even if it was terrible – which would be worse? An oppressive life, or a war that countless innocents will die in? ’Liberty or death’, a bunch of balderdash. If a man wants to die so badly that he will go to war under the justification that he has the right to die, why doesn’t he just kill himself and leave others out of it?
Men, this is the ultimatum. Whether you wish to see it as I do is your right – nobody will ever take that from you – but whatever you think about it….you all need to get out of this conference room within the next two minutes or General Sanders is going to start taking out kneecaps.”
“Traitor!” Came one shout.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Came another. Before he was halfway through the word ‘dare’, General Sanders had hip-aimed the barrel of his gun at him, and he yielded completely. Within two minutes the conference room was empty, save for the President and General.
At last he turned back to the monitor. “I do hope my little speech wasn’t entirely untruthful.” He said, with a huff. Then he heard the next bit, raised a brow, then raised the other brow, and guffawed. “Hmmh! No my good sir, I’m afraid I won’t be the slightest help to you in that matter. My personal convictions aside, the fact of it is that the other nations of this pathetic, squabbling planet have been wanting to do exactly what you’ve done for centuries. That speech I just gave was most likely recorded by one of those men and will be broadcasted worldwide, and I will become the second most despised man on the planet – next to you, of course.” The last bit was added respectfully. Kampfer would obviously have to know that some people were going to sort of dislike him.
“My suggestion to you Mr. Kampfer is that you use us as an example. The thousands of security cameras and aerial viewmasters have doubtless caught much of the attack on video. I’m sure you can find them – use these to your advantage. Consolidate the footage and distribute it worldwide before initiating any further attacks. Give twenty four hours for nations to come to their decisions. I’d bet my bottom dollar that you’d hardly have to lift a military finger.”
In the wake of the destruction of Bravo, there was a long moment of silence.
Relative silence, that is – considering there was still the popcorn-popping of machine gun fire, the distant zap-a-zap of laser weapons, and the occasional thunderclap which represented rapid combustions.
Dorin Harkahn peeked over the window sill.
Had HE done that?
Probably not. He was logical enough to assume that something else had produced the reaction – he knew his limitations.
A gentle breeze wafted through the battlezone, bringing with it the gentle stench of things that had burned and lives that had spent. A fire had broken out somewhere at the northern end of the city, but a few of the braver citizens had banded together and were putting it out – considering that it had been far from the combat.
There was a quiet crunch crunch…crunchcrunchcrunch… which only Harkahn and Rivierre could hear – this turned out to be a boy huddling in the far corner of the building which they had taken cover within, munching greedily on a raw potato. They let him be.
At the east end of the city where ‘skidrow’ had been, all that was left to do was the mopping up. It seemed too that all of the robotic soldiers that did remain had suddenly become listless and unfocused, which was strange since they should not have been affected by factors such as ‘morale’ as human soldiers would. Nevertheless they were a simple matter to dispatch – even if it did still require the bulk of the ‘enemy’ force’s attention.
Hardly breaking the silence, but descending from the sky with the force of a cosmic nailgun and impacting the ground like a bullet was…the Bullet.
And it did make a bullet hole. The craft, which was about the size of a greyhound bus and very pointy at one end, had impacted with enough force that it hardly made a sound – to anyone at any reasonable distance of course – barely shook the ground, and simply burrowed its’ way like a dart beneath the surface. It left a perfectly round, slightly mounded hole. The anticlimax was astonishing.
Then, slowly, slowly, over the course of the next minute or so, the little ship came back out, floating silently backwards through the hole until it was fully above ground. It hovered in the air for a moment, then gently, ever so gently landed on the ground. City Hall sat between them and the bulk of the combat, so they were relatively safe – for the moment.
A panel on the side opened up, and Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc was there, leaning heavily on the wall beside the doorway, looking tiredly out at whatever there was to see. Alexa peered from the other side a moment after.
Aelyn seemed to flicker slightly.
With one final sweep of the area, Rivierre determined that it was safe enough to cross the open with Harkahn in tow, moving toward the little black bullet quickly. Harkahn stumbled a bit as they went. He was fine.
He looked around, serenely grumpy. The smoldering remains of Bravo lay not far – Dorin went to it immediately, and picked through until he found what remained of the old bot. “Hey, this ain’t bad.” He said, relieved. It appeared that everything necessary to re-construct the bot had survived. “Volo’s going to have a field day with this.”
“Good.” Aelyn said, unenthusiastically, but with that vague hint of triumphance which was impossible to hide completely in the moment of victory. “Now let’s get moving before those bastards notice us again. Ranger, remind me to figure out some time exactly what you are, because you’re not human. But it can wait. Rivierre, next time pay more attention to what’s falling on you from above. That was a close call in the scrapyard.”
Rivierre responded with a rude, one-fingered gesture.
Once all of the salvageable parts of CD-Bravo had been scavenged and loaded into the Bullet’s little cargo bay, it was time to go. Aelyn, Alexa, Rivierre, Harkahn, and CL were all loaded on, sat down, and strapped in. (The Bullet was primitive in that it had no device for artificial gravity. It could compensate for g-force so as to keep passengers from losing their skulls when making an impact like that, but it couldn’t do anything to keep them from tumbling about inside if the vessel were to spin. Which it did. A great deal.)
If CL was still on fire, Alexa would casually extinguish him before he boarded.
Once everyone was safely aboard, the Bullet raised itself into the air once more, redirected itself to face up, and shot itself with incredible speed. Since it used spacial distortion drives (Which took up the space that gravity devices would have otherwise) there was no sound when it took off and only the sound of it moving through the air when it was in flight.
The Captain and crew fired through the atmosphere, through the ruined magnetosphere, past the moon. It was a longer trip than any of them would have liked, despite the velocity – riding in the Bullet was not a generally enjoyable experience, and it had not taken Aelyn long to remember why he had almost not had it built.
Once they were just barely out of the effects of the aforementioned magnetosphere, the other piece of technology which took up space on the little vessel fired up, and the craft disappeared.
It ceased to exist. It went to the one ‘place’ in the conceivable universe, in all dimensions, in all parallels and space-times and variables – where nobody, no matter how hard they tried, would stand any chance of finding them. (Except of course, the late Paeryc Petrovalyc, who had ceased existing a very, very long time ago.)
The ”Not”.
Amidst the city which had been brought to its’ knees in a matter of hours, Staff Sergeant Zeiller sat heavily down onto a ruined pile of debris and gave a huff. He put a hand to his temple, leaning on a knee, and looked thoughtful.
“Yeah, I’d sure like to go that route myself.” He grumbled, referring to Ducote’s suggestion for continuing to blast a few of the enemies away.
“Damn straight!” Dallen piped up.
“But…Ugh. No. We can’t. Our continuing to fight could very well end up restarting the whole @#$%fest. I hate to say it…I mean I really hate to say it, but we need to stand down and wait.”
Dallen groaned.
And suddenly they weren’t alone. Someone else had appeared. Someone who had not been there before, as far as anyone could tell.
It was a civilian. A man of perhaps thirty, nondescript, wearing a green sweater. He was standing in a doorway which led to the stairwell to the basement, where the residents of this particular apartment building had taken shelter. He looked very upset.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” He shouted, fists in tight balls. “You’re going to just give up? Just like that?”
“What?” Someone else said, from the basement.
“These @#$%ing cowards are going to just give up! Surrender! Let those robot @#$%s just walk all over us like nothing!”
Before long, Platoon D would find that a rather formidable mob of angry citizens had formed around the door to the basement. There were no lights in the building, and it was illuminated only by the eerie reddish glow which seemed to accompany wartime.
They had started shouting. Mob mentality was already taking over.
“I say we knock the bastards down, take their guns and continue the fight ourselves!” called one idiot, from the back. Most of them seemed to think that was a capital idea. It did not matter that not only did these people have zero combat training or ability, but most of them had never so much as touched a firearm before in their lives. But that wasn’t going to abate them.
Staff Sergeant Zeiller stood, put up his hands.
“Alright, everyone needs to calm the @#$% down and listen. There are robots out there that are bigger than skyscrapers. These guns,” he motioned to one of the standard issue rifles – will do exactly nothing against a robot that’s taller than a skyscraper. We need to sit and wait. I know it’s not-“
“@#$%ing coward!”
“Yeah! We ain’t gonna’ stop fighting for nothin’!”
“I say we kick their asses!”
The situation, to be frank, was getting out of control. Which was unfortunate.
Very far away, on the planet Ardella, a young man in a crisp, dark uniform blinked, put a hand to his ear, and listened again to what he assumed he had misheard.
It seemed that one of the planets which the Galactic Empire had been scoping out for some time had gone to @$#%. Their surveillance satellite had picked up on most of it – including the Earth City attack – before at last succumbing to the EMP.
He relayed this information appropriately.
The woman who got it also relayed it appropriately.
Slowly, slowly, the message worked its’ way up and up, until a very old man in a glorious white uniform was looking at it with distaste. He was alone in a room. A thick, black cable descended from the ceiling and disappeared into the flesh of his back, just behind the neck. It had been keeping him alive for some three hundred years now.
It never bothered Admiral Harry Malbec that he was confined to this room. Technology and rank allowed him eyes and ears just about everywhere, and at his age he didn’t really need to be moving around all the time anyway.
Admiral Malbec was one of a very few people within the Empire that knew of the existence of Agent Kallenger and the DEU which she led. For this reason, when he learned that the planet which she had last been reported as chasing the blasted Devil Eye had “gone to @#$%”, he was concerned.
He wondered if it was really possible that the psychopath had managed to build an incredible robot army. It did not seem plausible, but….
He thought on it for a long time. Admiral Malbec had a lot of time to think.
Then he decided he would do nothing.
For now, anyway. Sooner or later, Kallenger would report back. Then he would know what really happened. Until then it simply did not matter to him.
-
It was humorous, in all reality. Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc had been – until Kampfer came along – the most powerful single man in the Universe. His powers had extended far beyond simply the Stella Viventium in terms of political influence. HE was even credited – Space knows how or why – with the invention of the stardrive, the single most important invention in the history of the universe, which allowed for space travel. Naturally this was paradoxical, since everyone knew that space travel had always existed…
Nevertheless, it was humorous that this man of incredible power was no threat to Lord Kampfer. Sure, Kampfer would likely never be able to get rid of Mr. Petrovalyc, but Mr. Petrovalyc would never be able to destroy Kampfer or his forces. It simply wouldn’t happen.
Little did the Lord know, however, that there was still one contending force. One force, one person who was so great, so powerful, that he could topple everything in the blink of an eye.
Mr. Kampfer would likely not be able to understand this fact until he met the infinitely powerful menace. He would have no reason to understand what he had never heard of before. And he had no reason to ever have heard of the Devil Eye.
And of course, he would not know the real danger. Not without looking. Without figuring him out. It might not take much effort.
But that eye in the vicious Devil Eye’s head was something special. Very special. Vastly, infinitely more special than its’ creator could ever have imagined. That Devil’s Eye…
The ‘Not’ was exactly what it sounded like. It was not a place, but a state of existence that did not exist. It was furiously paradoxical, entirely impossible – which was why it was the ‘Not’. Because it was not.
The only individual capable of understanding the Not was its’ creator, the aforementioned and non-existent Paeryc Petrovalyc, from which Aelyn had taken the hyphenated portion of his name. How Paeryc Petrovalyc had managed this was the ultimate mystery – Aelyn had spent a very, very, very, very, very, very^1000 long time trying to figure it out. He had gone half mad trying to figure it out. He had exhausted, at one point or another, or all at once, every conceivable resource in attempts to understand it, and still he made not the slightest progress.
Unfortunately, the Not was only useful for one thing – hiding. It was very, very useful for hiding, but still it was the only thing it was good for. It was the reason that the Stella Alexa had survived for so very long, lightly armed and under-defended as it was. It was the size of a city, yet it could hide better than the greatest shadow warrior in the Universe. It could cease to exist. It could enter the Not.
And that was how Paeryc Petrovalyc had intended it to be. One vessel could enter the Not. One person could send the vessel to the Not. Nobody, not even that person, would ever be allowed to understand how it worked.
Yet, frustratingly, the Not was the root source of all this trouble.
One could not ‘travel’ through the Not, because the Not was not space or matter. One could not enter the Not and appear somewhere else - with the exception of compensating upon return, for anything that might have entered that spot while the Stella was Not.
Since nobody, not even Aelyn could understand the Not, it was fundamentally impossible for him to find anything else that was Not.
This was a problem. This was the cause of all the commotion.
Earth, and the entire Legendary System of Sol, right down to Pluto…Were Not.
So naturally, when all of this ‘creators of the universe’ nonsense came up, Aelyn was interested. Doubly so when the idea struck that the Moon of the little planet that called itself Earth but was not Earth might have been the Moon from the original Earth.
It was possible, Aelyn deduced, that this robot had somehow been involved – if not directly – then indirectly with the people who had worked with Paeryc Petrovalyc. It was likely that nothing would bring anyone any closer to understanding the Not. But Bravo had mentioned a key, or if not a key then something within the Moon. Aelyn couldn’t begin to imagine what Bravo may have been talking about, but he was damned well going to find out. If Bravo’s secrets could lead them to the ‘place’ in the universe where Sol was Not…They might be able to go back.
He gave it a long while, but eventually the ruckus did die off on its’ own, considering that all of the rage that the men were filled with was entirely impotent. When entropy had at last reached the maximum, they found themselves all waiting on an answer from the President – all to different questions and demands, but still waiting expectantly nonetheless.
He held up a finger to Kampfer – surprisingly bold toward the administrator of his swift defeat. Then he turned to face his men., and began his speech.
“Men. Listen to me. Listen damn good, like your lives and the lives of a million millon innocent civilians depended on it. I want you to look at the history of the Galaxy – the bigger picture, bigger than you or me, bigger than this cabinet, than this nation, than this planet. What causes war? The answer is dispute. The need for power on the part of institutions such as our own. The insecurities of men who think that being under the orders of another reduces their masculinity. Well, what if it does? What is masculinity in the face of the lives of millions or billions, or more? Should every innocent man, woman and child in this great nation be slaughtered by forces beyond our control simply to retain that you’ve got a bigger @#$% than everyone else? I think we can all agree on the answer to that.
I ask you men – what stops war? Is it victory? Fighting until the end? No. It is peace itself. It is the lack of a need for power. It is when one power unites all the men who would otherwise squabble. One power which forces us to get along, because that’s the only way it seems that men can ever get along.
It comes not in a form which we would prefer. Of course I would rather come to this consensus – this ultimatum – by my own means. But such is the reality of life. Such is evolution, when one organism becomes dominant and engulfs the others – that organism is Mr. Kampfer’s empire. We have been defeated, but in the face of our defeat we can better the world, better mankind, by contributing to the unification of all men. Might life under the rule of Mr. Kampfer be miserable? Perhaps. That I cannot say. Hopefully not. But even if it was terrible – which would be worse? An oppressive life, or a war that countless innocents will die in? ’Liberty or death’, a bunch of balderdash. If a man wants to die so badly that he will go to war under the justification that he has the right to die, why doesn’t he just kill himself and leave others out of it?
Men, this is the ultimatum. Whether you wish to see it as I do is your right – nobody will ever take that from you – but whatever you think about it….you all need to get out of this conference room within the next two minutes or General Sanders is going to start taking out kneecaps.”
“Traitor!” Came one shout.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Came another. Before he was halfway through the word ‘dare’, General Sanders had hip-aimed the barrel of his gun at him, and he yielded completely. Within two minutes the conference room was empty, save for the President and General.
At last he turned back to the monitor. “I do hope my little speech wasn’t entirely untruthful.” He said, with a huff. Then he heard the next bit, raised a brow, then raised the other brow, and guffawed. “Hmmh! No my good sir, I’m afraid I won’t be the slightest help to you in that matter. My personal convictions aside, the fact of it is that the other nations of this pathetic, squabbling planet have been wanting to do exactly what you’ve done for centuries. That speech I just gave was most likely recorded by one of those men and will be broadcasted worldwide, and I will become the second most despised man on the planet – next to you, of course.” The last bit was added respectfully. Kampfer would obviously have to know that some people were going to sort of dislike him.
“My suggestion to you Mr. Kampfer is that you use us as an example. The thousands of security cameras and aerial viewmasters have doubtless caught much of the attack on video. I’m sure you can find them – use these to your advantage. Consolidate the footage and distribute it worldwide before initiating any further attacks. Give twenty four hours for nations to come to their decisions. I’d bet my bottom dollar that you’d hardly have to lift a military finger.”
In the wake of the destruction of Bravo, there was a long moment of silence.
Relative silence, that is – considering there was still the popcorn-popping of machine gun fire, the distant zap-a-zap of laser weapons, and the occasional thunderclap which represented rapid combustions.
Dorin Harkahn peeked over the window sill.
Had HE done that?
Probably not. He was logical enough to assume that something else had produced the reaction – he knew his limitations.
A gentle breeze wafted through the battlezone, bringing with it the gentle stench of things that had burned and lives that had spent. A fire had broken out somewhere at the northern end of the city, but a few of the braver citizens had banded together and were putting it out – considering that it had been far from the combat.
There was a quiet crunch crunch…crunchcrunchcrunch… which only Harkahn and Rivierre could hear – this turned out to be a boy huddling in the far corner of the building which they had taken cover within, munching greedily on a raw potato. They let him be.
At the east end of the city where ‘skidrow’ had been, all that was left to do was the mopping up. It seemed too that all of the robotic soldiers that did remain had suddenly become listless and unfocused, which was strange since they should not have been affected by factors such as ‘morale’ as human soldiers would. Nevertheless they were a simple matter to dispatch – even if it did still require the bulk of the ‘enemy’ force’s attention.
Hardly breaking the silence, but descending from the sky with the force of a cosmic nailgun and impacting the ground like a bullet was…the Bullet.
And it did make a bullet hole. The craft, which was about the size of a greyhound bus and very pointy at one end, had impacted with enough force that it hardly made a sound – to anyone at any reasonable distance of course – barely shook the ground, and simply burrowed its’ way like a dart beneath the surface. It left a perfectly round, slightly mounded hole. The anticlimax was astonishing.
Then, slowly, slowly, over the course of the next minute or so, the little ship came back out, floating silently backwards through the hole until it was fully above ground. It hovered in the air for a moment, then gently, ever so gently landed on the ground. City Hall sat between them and the bulk of the combat, so they were relatively safe – for the moment.
A panel on the side opened up, and Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc was there, leaning heavily on the wall beside the doorway, looking tiredly out at whatever there was to see. Alexa peered from the other side a moment after.
Aelyn seemed to flicker slightly.
With one final sweep of the area, Rivierre determined that it was safe enough to cross the open with Harkahn in tow, moving toward the little black bullet quickly. Harkahn stumbled a bit as they went. He was fine.
He looked around, serenely grumpy. The smoldering remains of Bravo lay not far – Dorin went to it immediately, and picked through until he found what remained of the old bot. “Hey, this ain’t bad.” He said, relieved. It appeared that everything necessary to re-construct the bot had survived. “Volo’s going to have a field day with this.”
“Good.” Aelyn said, unenthusiastically, but with that vague hint of triumphance which was impossible to hide completely in the moment of victory. “Now let’s get moving before those bastards notice us again. Ranger, remind me to figure out some time exactly what you are, because you’re not human. But it can wait. Rivierre, next time pay more attention to what’s falling on you from above. That was a close call in the scrapyard.”
Rivierre responded with a rude, one-fingered gesture.
Once all of the salvageable parts of CD-Bravo had been scavenged and loaded into the Bullet’s little cargo bay, it was time to go. Aelyn, Alexa, Rivierre, Harkahn, and CL were all loaded on, sat down, and strapped in. (The Bullet was primitive in that it had no device for artificial gravity. It could compensate for g-force so as to keep passengers from losing their skulls when making an impact like that, but it couldn’t do anything to keep them from tumbling about inside if the vessel were to spin. Which it did. A great deal.)
If CL was still on fire, Alexa would casually extinguish him before he boarded.
Once everyone was safely aboard, the Bullet raised itself into the air once more, redirected itself to face up, and shot itself with incredible speed. Since it used spacial distortion drives (Which took up the space that gravity devices would have otherwise) there was no sound when it took off and only the sound of it moving through the air when it was in flight.
The Captain and crew fired through the atmosphere, through the ruined magnetosphere, past the moon. It was a longer trip than any of them would have liked, despite the velocity – riding in the Bullet was not a generally enjoyable experience, and it had not taken Aelyn long to remember why he had almost not had it built.
Once they were just barely out of the effects of the aforementioned magnetosphere, the other piece of technology which took up space on the little vessel fired up, and the craft disappeared.
It ceased to exist. It went to the one ‘place’ in the conceivable universe, in all dimensions, in all parallels and space-times and variables – where nobody, no matter how hard they tried, would stand any chance of finding them. (Except of course, the late Paeryc Petrovalyc, who had ceased existing a very, very long time ago.)
The ”Not”.
Amidst the city which had been brought to its’ knees in a matter of hours, Staff Sergeant Zeiller sat heavily down onto a ruined pile of debris and gave a huff. He put a hand to his temple, leaning on a knee, and looked thoughtful.
“Yeah, I’d sure like to go that route myself.” He grumbled, referring to Ducote’s suggestion for continuing to blast a few of the enemies away.
“Damn straight!” Dallen piped up.
“But…Ugh. No. We can’t. Our continuing to fight could very well end up restarting the whole @#$%fest. I hate to say it…I mean I really hate to say it, but we need to stand down and wait.”
Dallen groaned.
And suddenly they weren’t alone. Someone else had appeared. Someone who had not been there before, as far as anyone could tell.
It was a civilian. A man of perhaps thirty, nondescript, wearing a green sweater. He was standing in a doorway which led to the stairwell to the basement, where the residents of this particular apartment building had taken shelter. He looked very upset.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” He shouted, fists in tight balls. “You’re going to just give up? Just like that?”
“What?” Someone else said, from the basement.
“These @#$%ing cowards are going to just give up! Surrender! Let those robot @#$%s just walk all over us like nothing!”
Before long, Platoon D would find that a rather formidable mob of angry citizens had formed around the door to the basement. There were no lights in the building, and it was illuminated only by the eerie reddish glow which seemed to accompany wartime.
They had started shouting. Mob mentality was already taking over.
“I say we knock the bastards down, take their guns and continue the fight ourselves!” called one idiot, from the back. Most of them seemed to think that was a capital idea. It did not matter that not only did these people have zero combat training or ability, but most of them had never so much as touched a firearm before in their lives. But that wasn’t going to abate them.
Staff Sergeant Zeiller stood, put up his hands.
“Alright, everyone needs to calm the @#$% down and listen. There are robots out there that are bigger than skyscrapers. These guns,” he motioned to one of the standard issue rifles – will do exactly nothing against a robot that’s taller than a skyscraper. We need to sit and wait. I know it’s not-“
“@#$%ing coward!”
“Yeah! We ain’t gonna’ stop fighting for nothin’!”
“I say we kick their asses!”
The situation, to be frank, was getting out of control. Which was unfortunate.
Very far away, on the planet Ardella, a young man in a crisp, dark uniform blinked, put a hand to his ear, and listened again to what he assumed he had misheard.
It seemed that one of the planets which the Galactic Empire had been scoping out for some time had gone to @$#%. Their surveillance satellite had picked up on most of it – including the Earth City attack – before at last succumbing to the EMP.
He relayed this information appropriately.
The woman who got it also relayed it appropriately.
Slowly, slowly, the message worked its’ way up and up, until a very old man in a glorious white uniform was looking at it with distaste. He was alone in a room. A thick, black cable descended from the ceiling and disappeared into the flesh of his back, just behind the neck. It had been keeping him alive for some three hundred years now.
It never bothered Admiral Harry Malbec that he was confined to this room. Technology and rank allowed him eyes and ears just about everywhere, and at his age he didn’t really need to be moving around all the time anyway.
Admiral Malbec was one of a very few people within the Empire that knew of the existence of Agent Kallenger and the DEU which she led. For this reason, when he learned that the planet which she had last been reported as chasing the blasted Devil Eye had “gone to @#$%”, he was concerned.
He wondered if it was really possible that the psychopath had managed to build an incredible robot army. It did not seem plausible, but….
He thought on it for a long time. Admiral Malbec had a lot of time to think.
Then he decided he would do nothing.
For now, anyway. Sooner or later, Kallenger would report back. Then he would know what really happened. Until then it simply did not matter to him.
-
It was humorous, in all reality. Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc had been – until Kampfer came along – the most powerful single man in the Universe. His powers had extended far beyond simply the Stella Viventium in terms of political influence. HE was even credited – Space knows how or why – with the invention of the stardrive, the single most important invention in the history of the universe, which allowed for space travel. Naturally this was paradoxical, since everyone knew that space travel had always existed…
Nevertheless, it was humorous that this man of incredible power was no threat to Lord Kampfer. Sure, Kampfer would likely never be able to get rid of Mr. Petrovalyc, but Mr. Petrovalyc would never be able to destroy Kampfer or his forces. It simply wouldn’t happen.
Little did the Lord know, however, that there was still one contending force. One force, one person who was so great, so powerful, that he could topple everything in the blink of an eye.
Mr. Kampfer would likely not be able to understand this fact until he met the infinitely powerful menace. He would have no reason to understand what he had never heard of before. And he had no reason to ever have heard of the Devil Eye.
And of course, he would not know the real danger. Not without looking. Without figuring him out. It might not take much effort.
But that eye in the vicious Devil Eye’s head was something special. Very special. Vastly, infinitely more special than its’ creator could ever have imagined. That Devil’s Eye…
The ‘Not’ was exactly what it sounded like. It was not a place, but a state of existence that did not exist. It was furiously paradoxical, entirely impossible – which was why it was the ‘Not’. Because it was not.
The only individual capable of understanding the Not was its’ creator, the aforementioned and non-existent Paeryc Petrovalyc, from which Aelyn had taken the hyphenated portion of his name. How Paeryc Petrovalyc had managed this was the ultimate mystery – Aelyn had spent a very, very, very, very, very, very^1000 long time trying to figure it out. He had gone half mad trying to figure it out. He had exhausted, at one point or another, or all at once, every conceivable resource in attempts to understand it, and still he made not the slightest progress.
Unfortunately, the Not was only useful for one thing – hiding. It was very, very useful for hiding, but still it was the only thing it was good for. It was the reason that the Stella Alexa had survived for so very long, lightly armed and under-defended as it was. It was the size of a city, yet it could hide better than the greatest shadow warrior in the Universe. It could cease to exist. It could enter the Not.
And that was how Paeryc Petrovalyc had intended it to be. One vessel could enter the Not. One person could send the vessel to the Not. Nobody, not even that person, would ever be allowed to understand how it worked.
Yet, frustratingly, the Not was the root source of all this trouble.
One could not ‘travel’ through the Not, because the Not was not space or matter. One could not enter the Not and appear somewhere else - with the exception of compensating upon return, for anything that might have entered that spot while the Stella was Not.
Since nobody, not even Aelyn could understand the Not, it was fundamentally impossible for him to find anything else that was Not.
This was a problem. This was the cause of all the commotion.
Earth, and the entire Legendary System of Sol, right down to Pluto…Were Not.
So naturally, when all of this ‘creators of the universe’ nonsense came up, Aelyn was interested. Doubly so when the idea struck that the Moon of the little planet that called itself Earth but was not Earth might have been the Moon from the original Earth.
It was possible, Aelyn deduced, that this robot had somehow been involved – if not directly – then indirectly with the people who had worked with Paeryc Petrovalyc. It was likely that nothing would bring anyone any closer to understanding the Not. But Bravo had mentioned a key, or if not a key then something within the Moon. Aelyn couldn’t begin to imagine what Bravo may have been talking about, but he was damned well going to find out. If Bravo’s secrets could lead them to the ‘place’ in the universe where Sol was Not…They might be able to go back.
Missing such attack was a deadly mistake for the Ranger, as he had his whole guard open now for Bravo's attack of opportunity. Yet, CL immediately turned to his enemy, ready to unleash his fury again... Only to be met with the android's attempt of reason, moments before he collapsed from overheating. The Masked Man's arms 'dropped' from it's combat stance as he let out a somewhat frustrated "Heh??". Sure, his main objective was now accomplished, however, CL expected to have at least some sort of morbid, dangerous fun.
The bot have been, eh... Deactivated. I'm hauling his *** to the LZ. - Deactivating his Fusion Blast Arm, the flames around it soon died out. Noticing that Aelyn's drop pod was already nearby, the Ranger managed to pick up every piece available from Bravo's corpse, proceeding to meet up with Aelyn and his cons. Shrugging off the Captain's comment on the droid's status, it was better for the Ranger if it stayed deactivated, after all, it managed to arm an atomic bomb sure that it was doing otherwise.
"Haven't you figured it out yet?" - CL muttered to Aelyn, heading for the insides of the Bullet as he buckled up on his seat. "Nanomachines, son." He finished with a sarcastic chuckle.
While it was partly true that the Ranger in fact had been equipped with self replicating nano-robotic cells, he would fall far behind from the strenght that technology provided to a certain politician, assassinated a long time ago. For instance, The Mad Ranger had the characteristics of a modern combat cyborg, not the best one available but as dangerous as one with his current equipment.
The bot have been, eh... Deactivated. I'm hauling his *** to the LZ. - Deactivating his Fusion Blast Arm, the flames around it soon died out. Noticing that Aelyn's drop pod was already nearby, the Ranger managed to pick up every piece available from Bravo's corpse, proceeding to meet up with Aelyn and his cons. Shrugging off the Captain's comment on the droid's status, it was better for the Ranger if it stayed deactivated, after all, it managed to arm an atomic bomb sure that it was doing otherwise.
"Haven't you figured it out yet?" - CL muttered to Aelyn, heading for the insides of the Bullet as he buckled up on his seat. "Nanomachines, son." He finished with a sarcastic chuckle.
While it was partly true that the Ranger in fact had been equipped with self replicating nano-robotic cells, he would fall far behind from the strenght that technology provided to a certain politician, assassinated a long time ago. For instance, The Mad Ranger had the characteristics of a modern combat cyborg, not the best one available but as dangerous as one with his current equipment.
"It vas a very inspirational speech, Mr.President" Kampfer replied with a smile. "Of course, Mr.President don't zink of zis as a bad zing, but see zis as a new chapter zat vill benefit ze people of zis planet. In response to your suggestion, I do approve of it, but not ze 24 hours part since zat vill give zem time to prepare up a defense, but I'll give zem only 12 hours to comply" Kampfer said looking at the porky man. "Mr.President, you'll still be ze face of zis nation, but you'll be taking orders from Admiral Omega and as time goes on, you'll retire from your post and live a nice and quiet life. For you General Sanders, you have job to do, I need to go to the beach and get all of your remaining forces there, you will be in charge of ze self defense force. Your task vill be keeping ze peace. Of course I could do zat, but of course an occupational army vill be looked down upon ze people, make sure they don't come to ze beach armed. Oh I forgot to add, don't vorry about your injured and vounded my men have medical stations all around ze city taking in people and helping zem out, military or not" Kampfer added. "My Engineering Core should arrive soon to help in ze rebuilding zat city, good day gentleman" he finished off as the communication is cut.
"Sir, what about Aelyn?" the operator asked Kampfer. He looked at the operator and grinned saying "He's not a threat anymore and plus since ve don't know vhere ze Stella is, zere is no reason to go after it at ze current moment" The operator looked at the console and looked back saying "Just to let you know zat all forces are ready for invasion of various cities and ve just finished gathering video's and pictures of the attack of Earth City. What vill your message be?" Kampfer thought long and hard about his message and said "Dear leaders of Earth, I am Doctor Professor Kampfer, Lord of Technology, I am sending zis meesage to you so zat you have a chance to surrender and not cause needless bloodshed. I have conquered the capital city of zis planet, Earth City within a matter hours. As I speak my forces are ready to invade your respected cities. You have only 12 hours to comply to the unconditional surrender. I hope zese images persuade you to make ze right choice"
A Z-bot came running into the command center and handed Kampfer some paper that mentions Kellenger and Ketin on it. "Sir, the Galactic Empire has sent a spiecal unit force to capture this man for various crimes against the living" he said looking at Kampfer. Kampfer looked through the paper's and his face say it all, Kampfer is impressed by all the charges that are placed on Ketin. "I have an idea, let's give zis Ketin guy some amnesty here on ze planet, placing him under our protection. I vould love to meet zis man" he said as he admired the picture of Ketin. "Vhere vas he last spotted?" Kampfer asked the Z-bot. "Sir, he was spotted by the park in Earth City but we do believe he may ran into the nearby woods, since Kallenger was spotted in the park as well" he replied to him. "Alright a send a force to capture Ketin and bring him to base Oscar-Foxtrot, so I can interview him" he ordered the Z-bot. The Z-bot gave a slight nod and exited the command center.
In Kartupelis, the fighting ended. A good portion of the city was laid to waste in rumble and corpses. Various Z-bot and Doc-bots lay in shambles on the streets because of the sniper fire. Soon the forces approached the city center to see if Commander Louie was still alive. Within in the crowd of soldier's were civilians in the crowd, curious about what this occupying force will do now. Louie soon cam out of City Hall, covered in soot and dirt, with a dirty uniform, all coming from the impact of a Universal Colossus. He stood at top of the steps and looked on in horror the destruction of city that he helped rebuild to a function city. Commander Louie looked at the crowd and said "As you may see, our enemies know no bounds, they decide to damage this glorious city for one puny piece of scrap. But do not worry, citizens of this great city of Kartupelis, we will rebuild this city and continue our humanitarian aid to this community. No matter how much they destroy this city, we ALWAYS rebuild!" He knew it was a great speech, but he knew just needed to say something to give the civilians some hope. He saw it worked because the faces of civilians and even his troops light up and started to cheer. "Alright! Men we have a job to do!" he yelled out to his soldiers. All the troops knew what the commander meant and started to clear up the streets and begin rebuilding it. The mechs soon left the city and headed towards Kampfer's HQ for further deployment.
"Sir, what about Aelyn?" the operator asked Kampfer. He looked at the operator and grinned saying "He's not a threat anymore and plus since ve don't know vhere ze Stella is, zere is no reason to go after it at ze current moment" The operator looked at the console and looked back saying "Just to let you know zat all forces are ready for invasion of various cities and ve just finished gathering video's and pictures of the attack of Earth City. What vill your message be?" Kampfer thought long and hard about his message and said "Dear leaders of Earth, I am Doctor Professor Kampfer, Lord of Technology, I am sending zis meesage to you so zat you have a chance to surrender and not cause needless bloodshed. I have conquered the capital city of zis planet, Earth City within a matter hours. As I speak my forces are ready to invade your respected cities. You have only 12 hours to comply to the unconditional surrender. I hope zese images persuade you to make ze right choice"
A Z-bot came running into the command center and handed Kampfer some paper that mentions Kellenger and Ketin on it. "Sir, the Galactic Empire has sent a spiecal unit force to capture this man for various crimes against the living" he said looking at Kampfer. Kampfer looked through the paper's and his face say it all, Kampfer is impressed by all the charges that are placed on Ketin. "I have an idea, let's give zis Ketin guy some amnesty here on ze planet, placing him under our protection. I vould love to meet zis man" he said as he admired the picture of Ketin. "Vhere vas he last spotted?" Kampfer asked the Z-bot. "Sir, he was spotted by the park in Earth City but we do believe he may ran into the nearby woods, since Kallenger was spotted in the park as well" he replied to him. "Alright a send a force to capture Ketin and bring him to base Oscar-Foxtrot, so I can interview him" he ordered the Z-bot. The Z-bot gave a slight nod and exited the command center.
In Kartupelis, the fighting ended. A good portion of the city was laid to waste in rumble and corpses. Various Z-bot and Doc-bots lay in shambles on the streets because of the sniper fire. Soon the forces approached the city center to see if Commander Louie was still alive. Within in the crowd of soldier's were civilians in the crowd, curious about what this occupying force will do now. Louie soon cam out of City Hall, covered in soot and dirt, with a dirty uniform, all coming from the impact of a Universal Colossus. He stood at top of the steps and looked on in horror the destruction of city that he helped rebuild to a function city. Commander Louie looked at the crowd and said "As you may see, our enemies know no bounds, they decide to damage this glorious city for one puny piece of scrap. But do not worry, citizens of this great city of Kartupelis, we will rebuild this city and continue our humanitarian aid to this community. No matter how much they destroy this city, we ALWAYS rebuild!" He knew it was a great speech, but he knew just needed to say something to give the civilians some hope. He saw it worked because the faces of civilians and even his troops light up and started to cheer. "Alright! Men we have a job to do!" he yelled out to his soldiers. All the troops knew what the commander meant and started to clear up the streets and begin rebuilding it. The mechs soon left the city and headed towards Kampfer's HQ for further deployment.
Harlan, now standing, grits his teeth as the crowd of disgruntled civilians. After the crowd starts to form and chanting begins, he decides he's had enough. He whips his pistol out of it's holster and fires it into the ceiling. "Quiet down, will ya? You'll get every last one of us killed!" He looks at the temporarily shocked crowd and re-holsters his pistol. "Now let's be civil here. What is it exactly you all want us guys to do?"
Christofer had indeed put his hopes high when he had heard the mention of a military related topic. He was so sure that he'd soon get to meet some people he actually knew, but apparently this wasn't the case
"Oh..." There was an immediate dissapointment. The boy wasn't fully sure what she ment, but his tired head could only process that 'she wouldn't be able to help him afterall'. Toffi sighed, raised his shoulders slightly as he took more support of the ground and let his head just hang there somewhat loosely, looking towards the ground if anything. If he wasn't so tired and partly dehydrated, the German would have probably cried. Part of him did consider it as a last bit of effort to try get some knowledge out of her, but he would save it for later, maybe.
He didn't really even care too much about her words anymore, what was there for him to gain? The boy sighed. He was probably just supposed to be nice and at least listen to what she was saying. The German only faintly paid attention to her words, but yet again the mention of 'planet' got him to feel even lower
"Great... Planet... So you're an alien, huh?" he spoke rather emotionlessly. "Great... Just great... What's next, will you call upon your flying saucer and show me how you truly look like?"
Christofer would mostly offer to just listen to her worries and whatever it was that she had to say. Oh well, at least one of them was going to feel better...
The boy would flinch at the touch. Having his attention focused away from Royanna, the boy got scared by the softly placed pressure on his shoulder. He'd jump back a bit, startled, until calming down again eventually, accompanied by some heavy breathing slowly dying down.
The words of encouragement did feel nice too...
"Uh.. I... got my.. card..." The boy would stutter as they tried to tiredly search their pockets. He couldn't really even manage to stick his hand into any of them, ultimately just giving up and saving the attempts for later. "... Christofer Markov... I'm not a local by any means if you were wondering"
There was the word again: planet. Toffi stopped paying attention to it for the time being, they'd get nowhere and he was apparently going crazy anyway
Upon being told to get closer, Christofer was suspicious. Surely the woman was wounded and wouldn't be able to really be able to cause any fatal wounds on him, and her words were tempting, but the boy kept his head on a lower level as he crept over to her - it would be easier to land an upper-cut this way, if it would for some reason come to it
"Uh, I don't know... America or something? I mean... The United States or something, probably some cult testing ground of space crazy ********... The planet is obviously Earth. No-one lives on Mars or any other planets yet." Toffi took s a short break from thinking through his head. "And don't expect me to remember the names of the 'Earth-like planets', I have no idea. Kepler or something? Nah... Probably was a satellite or something..."
He took a bit better look at Kallenger
"Do you really not know? Near the end of 2012 or something, I dunno... Was it 2013 or 2014?" Probably wasn't any good to ask anything of the sorts from the lady, but to be honest, he wasn't sure himself either. The questions were starting to bother him too and the tip of his tail would twitch and move in an annoyed pattern. "There is the Ursa Minor and Ursa Major or something. And Orion's belt or such. I don't know. The North Star and Southern Cross..." He shrugged, unsure if he was willing to answer any more questions for the time being.
"Oh..." There was an immediate dissapointment. The boy wasn't fully sure what she ment, but his tired head could only process that 'she wouldn't be able to help him afterall'. Toffi sighed, raised his shoulders slightly as he took more support of the ground and let his head just hang there somewhat loosely, looking towards the ground if anything. If he wasn't so tired and partly dehydrated, the German would have probably cried. Part of him did consider it as a last bit of effort to try get some knowledge out of her, but he would save it for later, maybe.
He didn't really even care too much about her words anymore, what was there for him to gain? The boy sighed. He was probably just supposed to be nice and at least listen to what she was saying. The German only faintly paid attention to her words, but yet again the mention of 'planet' got him to feel even lower
"Great... Planet... So you're an alien, huh?" he spoke rather emotionlessly. "Great... Just great... What's next, will you call upon your flying saucer and show me how you truly look like?"
Christofer would mostly offer to just listen to her worries and whatever it was that she had to say. Oh well, at least one of them was going to feel better...
The boy would flinch at the touch. Having his attention focused away from Royanna, the boy got scared by the softly placed pressure on his shoulder. He'd jump back a bit, startled, until calming down again eventually, accompanied by some heavy breathing slowly dying down.
The words of encouragement did feel nice too...
"Uh.. I... got my.. card..." The boy would stutter as they tried to tiredly search their pockets. He couldn't really even manage to stick his hand into any of them, ultimately just giving up and saving the attempts for later. "... Christofer Markov... I'm not a local by any means if you were wondering"
There was the word again: planet. Toffi stopped paying attention to it for the time being, they'd get nowhere and he was apparently going crazy anyway
Upon being told to get closer, Christofer was suspicious. Surely the woman was wounded and wouldn't be able to really be able to cause any fatal wounds on him, and her words were tempting, but the boy kept his head on a lower level as he crept over to her - it would be easier to land an upper-cut this way, if it would for some reason come to it
"Uh, I don't know... America or something? I mean... The United States or something, probably some cult testing ground of space crazy ********... The planet is obviously Earth. No-one lives on Mars or any other planets yet." Toffi took s a short break from thinking through his head. "And don't expect me to remember the names of the 'Earth-like planets', I have no idea. Kepler or something? Nah... Probably was a satellite or something..."
He took a bit better look at Kallenger
"Do you really not know? Near the end of 2012 or something, I dunno... Was it 2013 or 2014?" Probably wasn't any good to ask anything of the sorts from the lady, but to be honest, he wasn't sure himself either. The questions were starting to bother him too and the tip of his tail would twitch and move in an annoyed pattern. "There is the Ursa Minor and Ursa Major or something. And Orion's belt or such. I don't know. The North Star and Southern Cross..." He shrugged, unsure if he was willing to answer any more questions for the time being.
Royanna listened solemnly as Christofer replied to her seemingly disjointed questions. Perhaps it was possible.
Though Kallenger had not collaborated with the science divisions very much, she'd had her fair share of conversations with the scientists and researchers around Ardella. Some were friends - as much as anyone could be considered a 'friend' to the stony-hearted Special Agent. She had been particularly interested in speaking with the theoretical physicists, the abstractionists, the men and women who worked on utter nonsense and made gradual progress in making sense of it. Time travel had come up more than once.
It was the theory of a man named R'smhs Boxh that inadvertent travel through time was possible through dimensional rifts. If something caused a planet in any given reality to shift dimensions and enter a different state, it was supposed that occasionally an individual on the planet in any other given reality might feel the effects. Did any of it make sense? No.
But it was interesting. And nonetheless it gave her a gut feeling. She had something to work off, or at least to spark her otherwise suppressed imagination.
The year was...2015? That wasn't a year. That was a meaningless number. Maybe it constituted a local dating system - some planets till stuck to those traditions, measuring time in rotations or other such nonsense instead of the completely superior Galactic Standard.
Currently, the date was [09:08-748678]. It was the ninth day of the eighth month of the seven hundred forty eight thousand, six hundred and seventy eighth year, within the 1,000,000 year cycle.
Royanna felt bad - for a lot of reasons. There was the bullet wound - but that was a different kind of bad.
Really she felt bad for this kid, who had apparently been through so much recently that he had been entirely emotionally drained. She knew the feeling well enough. It surprised her. It had been a long time since Royanna S. Kallenger had felt bad for anyone. She was simply too busy...
But now she was faced with this miserable kid, and she had to tell him that he was definitely not where he thought he was. The part about time would be useless even if her developing suspicion had any merit. After all, telling him that the date was [09:08-748678] would prove nothing. But the stars, they would tell.
She didn't want them to, but they did. Not definitively, but they presented some good evidence.
She didn't want to tell him what she was thinking. He was already a wreck and the last thing she wanted to do was contribute to that. Yet she couldn't lie to the boy, couldn't withhold information - it simply was not in her nature. Lying was despicable.
Once he had finished, she nodded thoughtfully, looking as though she were mentally counting to ten.
"North Star." She said, at last; "A 'North Star' is a star which appears from the surface of a planet in the same position at all times, geostationary. A star that if followed, will always lead to the northernmost axis of the planet. It also must be of a certain brightness to classify - typically. Not all planets have a North Star." From her pocket - sorely - she took her little palm-pilot thing, with the screen and three buttons. It turned on, and though it was unable to connect to anything, some of the more basic functions were still active. One such was the compass feature. She held it level, it indicated where North was. She put it away.
She looked upwards, through the clearing made by the trees. It was incredibly convenient. Night was falling at last, with dusk painting a rusty tone over the world. It had certainly been a long day. Or had it been a couple of days? Who could tell.
"Your world has a North Star. If it's a properly classified North Star, it should be visible...as of about twenty minutes ago, judging by the time."
She had spent a lot of time studying the matter.
The whole while, Roya had allowed her voice to take a much softer tone than she could ever remember using. It might have been comforting, to the right person. She still seemed generally...stiff, callous and steely, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, or threatening.
"That means that the North Star should be right...." Leaning in a little more, she again put a hand on his shoulder. This time it was her left hand, and the movement did not require much stress on the shoulder, so it was okay. Leaning in, she pointed upwards, through the trees, at a spot in the sky. The leaning allowed her to better show him where she wanted him to look.
"Right...there." She said at last, pointing. There was no star. A few pinpricks of light speckled the general area, but there was clearly nothing which could constitute a 'North Star'.
It really wasn't the best case, Roya realized. It had seemed foolproof at first, but now it occurred to her that he had not really thought it through. Whether or not he had somehow miraculously, impossibly traveled through time she could not say for certain - but she was very confident that he was not on the planet he thought he was.
He needed to know that. IF he knew that, maybe he would pull himself out of the mood he had fallen into - or maybe allow someone to help in the endeavor - but how could she prove it?
She hoped that leaving the absence of the critical North Star unspoken, and merely showing him, would prove her point. Or maybe just plant the idea in his head. Or...well something.
The disturbing sounds from the north had ceased now.
The crowd collectively recoiled from the shot. Zeiller regretted having failed to think of that first. But then, Zeiller would be the first to admit he was not necessarily the best suited for leading a platoon.
Silence hung over them all for a long, tense moment. Then there was some muttering.
Nobody really knew what they wanted the soldiers to do. All they were sure of was that they were angry and frightened and wanted someone to do something which might make them feel better, however irrational.
At last, someone spoke up. They were hidden within the mob, but it didn't really matter who was doing the talking, since the mob was essentially a single organism now - even if it had been temporarily stunned to docility. "Look at what they did to us. You have to do something!"
Dallen couldn't keep her mouth shut any longer. "I'll do something alright!" She growled - too loud - standing up suddenly from where she had been sitting - on a dusty desk, or something - then immediately thinking better of it, and merely staying where she was.
This was a stupid thing to do, because Lance Corpral Dallen was still holding her rifle.
This frightened the collective, which was not good.
Noticing this immediately, she tossed her rifle a few feet away, ensuring the people that she didn't plan on shooting any of them. It seemed to abate them slightly, if only for a moment.
Again, breaking a long and heavy silence, someone said "We shouldn't have to think of what to do, that's your job! Your job is to defeat the enemy and if you're refusing to do that then you're traitors to this nation!"
Private Reltakov, who had said nothing for hours, was standing toward the back of his platoon, nearest to the blown-out wall from which they had entered, coming in from the decimated street. Private Reltakov was green. This had been his first experience in live combat. He had been taking it about a well as any private would. It was easier, since he didn't have to kill any actual people'.
That changed.
It all happened so fast. Before anyone could so much as guess at what was happening, it was over.
Someone stepped out from the crowd - indiscernible from the rest of the undulating mass. Reltakov alone noticed him, but he noticed too late - or perhaps he hesitated?
Two gunshots rang out.
A redneck looking man in a wifebeater lay dead upon the floor, a bullet inserted expertly between his eyes.
Staff Sergeant Zeiller had a matching wound - right between the eyes.
Private Shanston Reltakov stood tense, trembling, eyes wide, hands gripping his sidearm too tightly, hands shaking. HE couldn't believe what he had done - and on top of that it had been too late. A man's first time taking the life of another man was never an easy moment, but this...
Again, there was the briefest moment, as though time had stopped, as everyone processed what had happened.
Then time started again. Dallen grabbed her rifle again and began firing at the floor near the feet of those in the front of the crowd. "Get back in the @#$%ing basement NOW! Move! @#$%ing move before I start aiming for heads!"
Sure enough, the crowd panicked and they all clamored to get back into the basement. When the last of them had stumbled down into the darkness, Dallen made a b-line for the door, slammed it shut, and used her rifle to force it closed, effectively locking them inside.
Private Reltakov was still standing exactly as he had been. Still shaking, face ghost-pale, mortified. Horrified. Staring not even at the body of the man he had killed, but straight forward, where the man's head had been when he aimed. As if he were still there, frozen in the moment, trapped there, terrified.
It seemed that Harlan Ducote, being the highest rank among them, had suddenly become the leader of Platoon D.
Though Kallenger had not collaborated with the science divisions very much, she'd had her fair share of conversations with the scientists and researchers around Ardella. Some were friends - as much as anyone could be considered a 'friend' to the stony-hearted Special Agent. She had been particularly interested in speaking with the theoretical physicists, the abstractionists, the men and women who worked on utter nonsense and made gradual progress in making sense of it. Time travel had come up more than once.
It was the theory of a man named R'smhs Boxh that inadvertent travel through time was possible through dimensional rifts. If something caused a planet in any given reality to shift dimensions and enter a different state, it was supposed that occasionally an individual on the planet in any other given reality might feel the effects. Did any of it make sense? No.
But it was interesting. And nonetheless it gave her a gut feeling. She had something to work off, or at least to spark her otherwise suppressed imagination.
The year was...2015? That wasn't a year. That was a meaningless number. Maybe it constituted a local dating system - some planets till stuck to those traditions, measuring time in rotations or other such nonsense instead of the completely superior Galactic Standard.
Currently, the date was [09:08-748678]. It was the ninth day of the eighth month of the seven hundred forty eight thousand, six hundred and seventy eighth year, within the 1,000,000 year cycle.
Royanna felt bad - for a lot of reasons. There was the bullet wound - but that was a different kind of bad.
Really she felt bad for this kid, who had apparently been through so much recently that he had been entirely emotionally drained. She knew the feeling well enough. It surprised her. It had been a long time since Royanna S. Kallenger had felt bad for anyone. She was simply too busy...
But now she was faced with this miserable kid, and she had to tell him that he was definitely not where he thought he was. The part about time would be useless even if her developing suspicion had any merit. After all, telling him that the date was [09:08-748678] would prove nothing. But the stars, they would tell.
She didn't want them to, but they did. Not definitively, but they presented some good evidence.
She didn't want to tell him what she was thinking. He was already a wreck and the last thing she wanted to do was contribute to that. Yet she couldn't lie to the boy, couldn't withhold information - it simply was not in her nature. Lying was despicable.
Once he had finished, she nodded thoughtfully, looking as though she were mentally counting to ten.
"North Star." She said, at last; "A 'North Star' is a star which appears from the surface of a planet in the same position at all times, geostationary. A star that if followed, will always lead to the northernmost axis of the planet. It also must be of a certain brightness to classify - typically. Not all planets have a North Star." From her pocket - sorely - she took her little palm-pilot thing, with the screen and three buttons. It turned on, and though it was unable to connect to anything, some of the more basic functions were still active. One such was the compass feature. She held it level, it indicated where North was. She put it away.
She looked upwards, through the clearing made by the trees. It was incredibly convenient. Night was falling at last, with dusk painting a rusty tone over the world. It had certainly been a long day. Or had it been a couple of days? Who could tell.
"Your world has a North Star. If it's a properly classified North Star, it should be visible...as of about twenty minutes ago, judging by the time."
She had spent a lot of time studying the matter.
The whole while, Roya had allowed her voice to take a much softer tone than she could ever remember using. It might have been comforting, to the right person. She still seemed generally...stiff, callous and steely, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, or threatening.
"That means that the North Star should be right...." Leaning in a little more, she again put a hand on his shoulder. This time it was her left hand, and the movement did not require much stress on the shoulder, so it was okay. Leaning in, she pointed upwards, through the trees, at a spot in the sky. The leaning allowed her to better show him where she wanted him to look.
"Right...there." She said at last, pointing. There was no star. A few pinpricks of light speckled the general area, but there was clearly nothing which could constitute a 'North Star'.
It really wasn't the best case, Roya realized. It had seemed foolproof at first, but now it occurred to her that he had not really thought it through. Whether or not he had somehow miraculously, impossibly traveled through time she could not say for certain - but she was very confident that he was not on the planet he thought he was.
He needed to know that. IF he knew that, maybe he would pull himself out of the mood he had fallen into - or maybe allow someone to help in the endeavor - but how could she prove it?
She hoped that leaving the absence of the critical North Star unspoken, and merely showing him, would prove her point. Or maybe just plant the idea in his head. Or...well something.
The disturbing sounds from the north had ceased now.
The crowd collectively recoiled from the shot. Zeiller regretted having failed to think of that first. But then, Zeiller would be the first to admit he was not necessarily the best suited for leading a platoon.
Silence hung over them all for a long, tense moment. Then there was some muttering.
Nobody really knew what they wanted the soldiers to do. All they were sure of was that they were angry and frightened and wanted someone to do something which might make them feel better, however irrational.
At last, someone spoke up. They were hidden within the mob, but it didn't really matter who was doing the talking, since the mob was essentially a single organism now - even if it had been temporarily stunned to docility. "Look at what they did to us. You have to do something!"
Dallen couldn't keep her mouth shut any longer. "I'll do something alright!" She growled - too loud - standing up suddenly from where she had been sitting - on a dusty desk, or something - then immediately thinking better of it, and merely staying where she was.
This was a stupid thing to do, because Lance Corpral Dallen was still holding her rifle.
This frightened the collective, which was not good.
Noticing this immediately, she tossed her rifle a few feet away, ensuring the people that she didn't plan on shooting any of them. It seemed to abate them slightly, if only for a moment.
Again, breaking a long and heavy silence, someone said "We shouldn't have to think of what to do, that's your job! Your job is to defeat the enemy and if you're refusing to do that then you're traitors to this nation!"
Private Reltakov, who had said nothing for hours, was standing toward the back of his platoon, nearest to the blown-out wall from which they had entered, coming in from the decimated street. Private Reltakov was green. This had been his first experience in live combat. He had been taking it about a well as any private would. It was easier, since he didn't have to kill any actual people'.
That changed.
It all happened so fast. Before anyone could so much as guess at what was happening, it was over.
Someone stepped out from the crowd - indiscernible from the rest of the undulating mass. Reltakov alone noticed him, but he noticed too late - or perhaps he hesitated?
Two gunshots rang out.
A redneck looking man in a wifebeater lay dead upon the floor, a bullet inserted expertly between his eyes.
Staff Sergeant Zeiller had a matching wound - right between the eyes.
Private Shanston Reltakov stood tense, trembling, eyes wide, hands gripping his sidearm too tightly, hands shaking. HE couldn't believe what he had done - and on top of that it had been too late. A man's first time taking the life of another man was never an easy moment, but this...
Again, there was the briefest moment, as though time had stopped, as everyone processed what had happened.
Then time started again. Dallen grabbed her rifle again and began firing at the floor near the feet of those in the front of the crowd. "Get back in the @#$%ing basement NOW! Move! @#$%ing move before I start aiming for heads!"
Sure enough, the crowd panicked and they all clamored to get back into the basement. When the last of them had stumbled down into the darkness, Dallen made a b-line for the door, slammed it shut, and used her rifle to force it closed, effectively locking them inside.
Private Reltakov was still standing exactly as he had been. Still shaking, face ghost-pale, mortified. Horrified. Staring not even at the body of the man he had killed, but straight forward, where the man's head had been when he aimed. As if he were still there, frozen in the moment, trapped there, terrified.
It seemed that Harlan Ducote, being the highest rank among them, had suddenly become the leader of Platoon D.
As soon as Kampfer's troops spread throughout the Earth City, various medical camps and wellness camps sprung up, caring for the injured and passing out food for people who need it. Kampfer understood the power of an army, but if the people are neglected of the conquered nation, then problems arise through them. The some of the soldiers started to clear the streets of bodies and debris, while other's yelled out for injured citizens and soldiers(Z-bot or Earth City forces) to to come to the medical camps for treatment. Citizen's who are homeless live in large tents in bunk beds until the Engineering Core arrives to repair and even improve the city's infrastructure.
A patrol of 5 Z-bots passed by Platoon D's location and heard gun fire from there position. The sound startled them and they looked around try to see if they can see there position. "HELLO!" one Z-bot yelled out. "If you are a soldier of the Earth then you must report to the beach to General Sanders" the same Z-bot said as they slowly approached the buildings trying to see if they can find the group of soldiers. "If you have any injured, then report to a medical tent that's down the street" one Z-bot said as he looked through one of the buildings.
Soon a Armored Troop Transport with two Z-bot's on top of the parallelogram looking vehicle has entered the park of Earth City. They had arm bands say "MP" an obvious indication of being Military police. There task is find Ketin Clark and bring him the Kampfer. They are slowly approaching where Kellenger and Toffi position as they scanned the park for Ketin before they head into the nearby forest in search for him
A patrol of 5 Z-bots passed by Platoon D's location and heard gun fire from there position. The sound startled them and they looked around try to see if they can see there position. "HELLO!" one Z-bot yelled out. "If you are a soldier of the Earth then you must report to the beach to General Sanders" the same Z-bot said as they slowly approached the buildings trying to see if they can find the group of soldiers. "If you have any injured, then report to a medical tent that's down the street" one Z-bot said as he looked through one of the buildings.
Soon a Armored Troop Transport with two Z-bot's on top of the parallelogram looking vehicle has entered the park of Earth City. They had arm bands say "MP" an obvious indication of being Military police. There task is find Ketin Clark and bring him the Kampfer. They are slowly approaching where Kellenger and Toffi position as they scanned the park for Ketin before they head into the nearby forest in search for him
After Commander Louie's speech, Maria approached what was left of Bravo. Before she got to him, she told one of the Z-bots to bring a jeep around. As she got his wreckage, she squared down and said "Damn man, you need an upgrade" she stood back up and cracked her mechanical hands. The jeep came around with the Z-bot driving it. She reached down and picked up Bravo's body and flung it on the back of the jeep making it hop a little bit. She got on the passager seat and looked at the driver and said "To Kampfer's HQ" the driver nodded and set the jeep to drive and all three drove towards Kampfer's base
Harlan, having jumped to his feet, looks over the shocked group."....Well then. Quite the situation we have here now." He pauses, thinking of what to say to the group that he was now commanding, when the voices of the bots filter down into the basement. "Damn... There isn't much we can do." he says. "I-I think we should go with 'em" he hesitates again. "But don't let them take your weapons. Never know what the bastards might have up their sleeves. Any objections?"
Nirix blinked, showing no reaction to Kete's objection for freedom or more so, her help. Her lavender eyes had caught the fear that radiated off of him and that was clearly present in his voice. The Eoclu understood, or at least would appear to if only for the Da'len to let his guard down some. Nirix wished no harm done to him but it would definitely take him some time to realize that. But unfortunately, time was not a luxury that they could have.
The distant firing had stopped for now, but Nirix was sure something else was bound to happen. The half-breed seemed to have a knack for drawing trouble...or maybe it was the other way around? Either way, she would have to convince him quickly to trust her. Or at least...tolerate her.
"You say you are not worth associating with, that you kill families and bring things to ruin. I have done similar things, Da'len. Some would call me a ruthless killer, they would be right," She admitted, humbly. Her eyes briefly closed, as if she was trying to repress something deep within her mind. When she opened them again, they were grim and distant. Though a deeper feeling lied within.
An Assassin's guilt.
"I have dedicated almost hundred and thirty years to the art of death. I have taken lives of so many people; Royalty, Poor, Women and Men, Human's and Non, it doesn't matter," She spoke without sentiment, as if she was speaking about someone else. Another life viewed through eyes that wasn't her own.
"We are alike, in ways. I only wish to offer you a gift, something you are missing despite your circumstances." Nirix paused, looking into his eyes now in hopes her words would reach him.
"Freedom. The knowledge and experience of a new life with new capabilities. A friend, as well. Even someone that has walked a path of chaos and constant death, deserves that"
The distant firing had stopped for now, but Nirix was sure something else was bound to happen. The half-breed seemed to have a knack for drawing trouble...or maybe it was the other way around? Either way, she would have to convince him quickly to trust her. Or at least...tolerate her.
"You say you are not worth associating with, that you kill families and bring things to ruin. I have done similar things, Da'len. Some would call me a ruthless killer, they would be right," She admitted, humbly. Her eyes briefly closed, as if she was trying to repress something deep within her mind. When she opened them again, they were grim and distant. Though a deeper feeling lied within.
An Assassin's guilt.
"I have dedicated almost hundred and thirty years to the art of death. I have taken lives of so many people; Royalty, Poor, Women and Men, Human's and Non, it doesn't matter," She spoke without sentiment, as if she was speaking about someone else. Another life viewed through eyes that wasn't her own.
"We are alike, in ways. I only wish to offer you a gift, something you are missing despite your circumstances." Nirix paused, looking into his eyes now in hopes her words would reach him.
"Freedom. The knowledge and experience of a new life with new capabilities. A friend, as well. Even someone that has walked a path of chaos and constant death, deserves that"
Everything hit Kete all at once. It was an inconvenient side-effect of having so much ‘space’ to think. He was often thinking about multiple things at once, feeling multiple things simultaneously – it could all get very cluttered…and very distressful.
That the woman intended on helping him was not something that hit him suddenly. It was merely confirmed, sliding from hunch to certainty.
He felt the conscious effort to repress either emotion or memory – a feeling he was all too familiar with, but it was coming from the part of his brain which was actually hers, rather than coming from his own, original thoughts.
It did, however, make him think about why he was so familiar with it.
Further cluttering the mess in his head, Kete was now aware that this woman Nirix was, as he had originally expected, an assassin. A killer.
A cold, hateful wave of loathing shot through him like black ice.
But again, the hatred only redirected back to himself. Hypocrite.
And the train of thought did not end there. HE knew now what she was, what she did – so what happened to Kallenger and those men who had been following him, chasing him, terrorizing him for so long?
What was he going to do now?
It was all too much. There was no way Kete was going to be able to maintain any semblance of a façade now. It had all been turned around on him very effectively. How could he continue pretending – however pitifully – to be a killer, when his own disgust with Nirix’s killing so strongly overtook him?
Ketin never could figure out whether he was, at his heart, a killer or not. It had tormented him endlessly. He knew that he hated himself either way,which made it fine to hate others who killed. He made no attempts to convince himself that he was anything but a heartless murderer. (Actually he did make attempts at just that very often. Much of his time was spent in denial – again, it was that which endlessly teetered back and forth in infinite indecision.)
He had been quiet for too long. He realized this suddenly – he wondered what his face had been reading.
He looked pale, haggard, tired, appalled, angry, heartbroken, and a thousand other things at once. The result was a stony-faced, distressed look.
Then suddenly he seemed angry – beyond angry. Infuriated. Teeth gritted, hands in white-knuckled fists at his side. It gave another good look at his surprisingly vicious looking canid fangs.
“Well I don’t want your damn gift!” He said, loudly and venomous. It was, frankly, shocking to hear the terrible voice from the otherwise…un-vicious kid. “I don’t need friends, I’ve got my freedom, and you’d better stay the hell away from me if you want to keep yours!”
So that was it; it would be those last words that made it clear. Whether or not Kete had his reservations about Nirix’s intentions, one thing was obvious – he wasn’t trying to drive her away for his own sake. He was trying to drive her away for her sake.
Then, as quickly as he had shifted to anger, he went full circle. It was plain to see as he growled the words that his eyes had welled with tears. But tears for whom?
What did he want to do? How? Why? Could he? Too many questions and not enough focus to think on any of them.
He stood tensely, willing the tears to go away, which accomplished nothing. With the sudden anger passed, he un-clenched his fists, and went to rub at his face, wiping his eyes in that kind-of-subtle way which never seemed to work for anyone. People could always tell when you were trying to wipe away tears, no matter how you went about it.
After a long, heavy moment of thick, oppressive silence – the distant trouble had stopped, though Kete was paying no attention to the fact now – and at last he couldn’t keep it up.
He asked weakly in half-demand, eyes looking at the dirt on the ground between them “What happened to them. Kallenger and the soldiers. Where’d they go.”
He didn’t want to hear the answer, he didn’t want to ask the question, but there it was anyway.
(I’ll post the others later, just wanted to get Kete’s out there since I’ve been doing surprisingly little writing involving him lately. I need more 1x1s. Or something.)
That the woman intended on helping him was not something that hit him suddenly. It was merely confirmed, sliding from hunch to certainty.
He felt the conscious effort to repress either emotion or memory – a feeling he was all too familiar with, but it was coming from the part of his brain which was actually hers, rather than coming from his own, original thoughts.
It did, however, make him think about why he was so familiar with it.
Further cluttering the mess in his head, Kete was now aware that this woman Nirix was, as he had originally expected, an assassin. A killer.
A cold, hateful wave of loathing shot through him like black ice.
But again, the hatred only redirected back to himself. Hypocrite.
And the train of thought did not end there. HE knew now what she was, what she did – so what happened to Kallenger and those men who had been following him, chasing him, terrorizing him for so long?
What was he going to do now?
It was all too much. There was no way Kete was going to be able to maintain any semblance of a façade now. It had all been turned around on him very effectively. How could he continue pretending – however pitifully – to be a killer, when his own disgust with Nirix’s killing so strongly overtook him?
Ketin never could figure out whether he was, at his heart, a killer or not. It had tormented him endlessly. He knew that he hated himself either way,which made it fine to hate others who killed. He made no attempts to convince himself that he was anything but a heartless murderer. (Actually he did make attempts at just that very often. Much of his time was spent in denial – again, it was that which endlessly teetered back and forth in infinite indecision.)
He had been quiet for too long. He realized this suddenly – he wondered what his face had been reading.
He looked pale, haggard, tired, appalled, angry, heartbroken, and a thousand other things at once. The result was a stony-faced, distressed look.
Then suddenly he seemed angry – beyond angry. Infuriated. Teeth gritted, hands in white-knuckled fists at his side. It gave another good look at his surprisingly vicious looking canid fangs.
“Well I don’t want your damn gift!” He said, loudly and venomous. It was, frankly, shocking to hear the terrible voice from the otherwise…un-vicious kid. “I don’t need friends, I’ve got my freedom, and you’d better stay the hell away from me if you want to keep yours!”
So that was it; it would be those last words that made it clear. Whether or not Kete had his reservations about Nirix’s intentions, one thing was obvious – he wasn’t trying to drive her away for his own sake. He was trying to drive her away for her sake.
Then, as quickly as he had shifted to anger, he went full circle. It was plain to see as he growled the words that his eyes had welled with tears. But tears for whom?
What did he want to do? How? Why? Could he? Too many questions and not enough focus to think on any of them.
He stood tensely, willing the tears to go away, which accomplished nothing. With the sudden anger passed, he un-clenched his fists, and went to rub at his face, wiping his eyes in that kind-of-subtle way which never seemed to work for anyone. People could always tell when you were trying to wipe away tears, no matter how you went about it.
After a long, heavy moment of thick, oppressive silence – the distant trouble had stopped, though Kete was paying no attention to the fact now – and at last he couldn’t keep it up.
He asked weakly in half-demand, eyes looking at the dirt on the ground between them “What happened to them. Kallenger and the soldiers. Where’d they go.”
He didn’t want to hear the answer, he didn’t want to ask the question, but there it was anyway.
(I’ll post the others later, just wanted to get Kete’s out there since I’ve been doing surprisingly little writing involving him lately. I need more 1x1s. Or something.)
The boy looked down. His mood was on the area of depression, slight sadness and maybe he was homesick too. It could have just been the rising hunger and thirst that made him feel that way - heck, for some reason he didn't have any sweets in his pockets. Not a single one. He missed the people he knew. Things would be so much easier with them around. Not that he wouldn't be able to manage on his own, but he sure would have wished and preferred to be accompanied by someone he had known for years
Whatever the case, he didn't mind Kallenger's thinking breaks, she was probably confused and didn't even understand what he had been saying to her. Darn it...
But it was all evened out when she finally did start to talk: Christofer couldn't understand a word she was saying. He just looked at her, confused
The boy sighed. It was useless... He laid down, ears falling flat behind his head and his body curling a bit, ready to just stay there and do nothing until something would happen. He was stopped by Kallenger though, her hand on his shoulder again.
"...?" The boy rose his head, looked at the woman with his ears rising slightly to position themselves unevenly. The expression on his face was confused yet again, but a slight curiosity arose as she seemed like she was going to be able to get the situation to go somewhere. Toffi didn't , surprisingly, notice her pulling him any closer as he was now focused on looking up at the sky
At first the boy thought that his eyes were just sleepy as he couldn't see or notice any specific bright stars. He was though, yet again, left disappointed when Royanna confirmed that there was indeed no star they were looking for.
Staying still for a bit, the boy would start sobbing softly after a few breaths. Royanna's silence didn't really make it any better, although it didn't make the situation worse either. The boy just sat there, eventually shedding a tear and then another...
There wasn't much time for him to grieve over the disappointment though. The ears on his head shot up again as he could hear the breaking of several branches from afar. Someone or something was coming and judging by a few sounds, it was probably too big to be any of Kallenger's soldiers. Christofer stopped sobbing, his face slightly red from what he had just done. He lowered his hands from his face and straightened his back slightly to get a better view of the forest before him. He practically just stared straight ahead, probably didn't seem all too nice to Kallenger if she wasn't hearing anything
A short silent moment later, Christofer would speak with a flat whisper-like voice
"... We have to go, now." The boy wouldn't take his eyes off the forest. It was as if something would leap at them or charge straight over if he'd look away at the wrong moment.
Even in the now fading light, some light source would cause Christofer's eyes to appear the unnatural shade of neon yellow.
Whatever the case, he didn't mind Kallenger's thinking breaks, she was probably confused and didn't even understand what he had been saying to her. Darn it...
But it was all evened out when she finally did start to talk: Christofer couldn't understand a word she was saying. He just looked at her, confused
The boy sighed. It was useless... He laid down, ears falling flat behind his head and his body curling a bit, ready to just stay there and do nothing until something would happen. He was stopped by Kallenger though, her hand on his shoulder again.
"...?" The boy rose his head, looked at the woman with his ears rising slightly to position themselves unevenly. The expression on his face was confused yet again, but a slight curiosity arose as she seemed like she was going to be able to get the situation to go somewhere. Toffi didn't , surprisingly, notice her pulling him any closer as he was now focused on looking up at the sky
At first the boy thought that his eyes were just sleepy as he couldn't see or notice any specific bright stars. He was though, yet again, left disappointed when Royanna confirmed that there was indeed no star they were looking for.
Staying still for a bit, the boy would start sobbing softly after a few breaths. Royanna's silence didn't really make it any better, although it didn't make the situation worse either. The boy just sat there, eventually shedding a tear and then another...
There wasn't much time for him to grieve over the disappointment though. The ears on his head shot up again as he could hear the breaking of several branches from afar. Someone or something was coming and judging by a few sounds, it was probably too big to be any of Kallenger's soldiers. Christofer stopped sobbing, his face slightly red from what he had just done. He lowered his hands from his face and straightened his back slightly to get a better view of the forest before him. He practically just stared straight ahead, probably didn't seem all too nice to Kallenger if she wasn't hearing anything
A short silent moment later, Christofer would speak with a flat whisper-like voice
"... We have to go, now." The boy wouldn't take his eyes off the forest. It was as if something would leap at them or charge straight over if he'd look away at the wrong moment.
Even in the now fading light, some light source would cause Christofer's eyes to appear the unnatural shade of neon yellow.
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