Thursday, July 18, 2013


Phoenix
Prologue

"It is War that defines Us" -Grand Marshal Davis Johanson, First Conference of the Confederation, Morgana 14th, 945 AR

Morse Toten read the quote above his bed numerous times, taking a minute each time to define it in his head. After his alarm went off, he got up, gathered his things, and packed them into his satchel. He gazed up at the quote one last time, before leaving his apartment.
Morse Toten was a terrorist. There's no need to hide this fact, as it will become apparent quite soon. Besides being a terrorist, he was also a student at the University of Sarafin on the planet Tricarn, although his studies had come to a standstill for nearly an entire semester. He was a disturbed young man and always had been since, even when he was very young.
Growing up, Morse had always felt like an outsider. There were numerous scientific explanations as to why this may be. He may have been an outsider because he was an introvert. It may have been due to him not "playing well" with others when he was in preschool. It may have also been due to him being rather unathletic and excelled in academics. It may have been because of the constant teasing and bullying that plagued him through grade school. It possibly was because he spent all his time in his room, surfing the Galanet and playing virtual games. It could have been due to him having absolutely no friends, not because people rejected him, but because he rejected them.  However, deep down inside, he knew the exact reason why he was an outsider. It was because he was a Drygona.
The Drygona were a reptilian race, native to the planet of Drygon. Their name is literally translated to be "Children of Dragons", the supreme beings that were believed to govern the universe. Unlike their "lesser" cousins, the Serbantis, Drygonas were taller, had larger heads, and had frills, horns, and warm blood. In a past time, they even had wings, although that was many millennia ago. Out of all the races, they had the richest history.
Thousands of years ago, the Drygonian Republic had conquered all other nations on their planet and united all of Drygon. At this same time, the mystical essence of Ragna was "gifted" by the Dragons to the drygonas as reward for this feat of superiority. The Drygonian Republic used this Ragna to accelerate their technological advancement, thanks to the mystical force being an unlimited, clean, and efficient source of power. Soon, the Drgonian Republic were navigating the stars and settling worlds; however, they soon discovered that were not alone in the galaxy. The drygonas came to find other races, such as the kazers, ruskies and jotnars, who had technology similar to their own and also were utilizing ragna. They also were not friendly. Wars erupted between the Republic and these new races. The republic suffered defeats and fell back. A revolution occurred on Drygon, overthrowing the diplomatic Republic to create a more militant Empire. This new Drygonian Empire pushed back to liberate their former worlds, but still  were not powerful enough to fight back against these new races, who had formed an alliance against the drygonas called the Kazertyne Directorate. However, during this time, an Imperial fleet, fleeing from a lost battle, stumbled upon their salvation. They discovered the planet Tricarn, home to the wolf-like Kayans and feline-like Felics, who were engaged in a brutal war with each other. They also had ragna, but using it in the most primitive ways and their technology was medieval at best. The drygonas landed on the planet and amazed both races with their superior technology and united both races together into a new army of warrior born of battle. Finally, the Drygonian Empire had the edge they needed and they were successfully able to push back against the Kazertynes and liberated their lost worlds and more. In two hundred years, the Drygonian Empire conquered the Kazers, the last of the hostile races, and set forth to control the rest of the galaxy.  At the same time when the DrygonIan Empire was going to finally achieve its dream and "Manifest Destiny", they faced a new threat: the Kayans and Felics, who had grown tired of being used for war and wanted to be free. Led by the beloved Jorge Joshua, the kayan and felics rebelled and formed a new government, the United Commonwealths, a government founded on Liberty and Honor. Other rebellions followed and tore apart much of the Drygonian Empire. The once proud empire, on the eve of conquering the galaxy, was now a broken nation. A millennia later, a new leader of the Drygonian Empire arose, the most tyrannical and merciless of all the leaders, Dierk Fleischer, although most know him today by another name: The Führer. The Führer united the dwindling empire once more and rapidly militarized it. Within two years, the Drygonian Empire was once more the strongest and largest military in the Asgard Galaxy. In the month of Azazel, on the thirteenth day, the same day that Saint Joshua declared the United Commonwealth independent, the Drygonian Empire struck, attacking all other nations at once. With the nations all divided, the Führer thought none would stand in the way of the Empire. However, he was  wrong. After years of fighting and close to defeat, several nations realized that if they were to remain divided, they would all surely fall. Kazertyne, Cocharchi, and United Commonwealth, along with a seceded part of the Empire, united against the Empire and once more, pushed them back. Soon after, the Führer was captured and beheaded. This was not the last battle, though. The remaining Empire forces fled to the star Zabarth, which was towards the Heart of the Galaxy, where a mysterious weapon only known as the Ragnarok was being stored in orbit. An Allied fleet followed the Imperial remnants to this place, ready to destroy the massive weapon. Nothing is known about this battle, except how it ended. The Ragnarok was set off, sending a wave of energy that removed all ragna in the galaxy and rendered all ragna technology useless. This wave moved at hyper-light speeds, reaching the rim of the galaxy in just over five years. With all power and technology gone, billions were stranded on their planets, many suffocating as their terraformed planets' atmosphere deteriorated and all the Galaxy fell into anarchy for the space of centuries.  Luckily, the people of the planet Tricarn, knowing the true value of liberty and keeping written records of other forms of energy, rebounded and revived the United Commonwealth within a few decades of the Ragnarok. Due to this technological advantage, the United Commonwealth became a galactic superpower and changed the culture of much of the galaxy, most notably changing the official language of the galaxy from Draconian to Carnelian.
This was the reason why Morse was an outsider. He was a drygona on a United Commonwealth's capital and he hated it. It wasn't like drygonas were rare on the planet or fiercely discriminated against; there were millions of them on Tricarn and, for the most part, racial tensions were something long forgotten. All races were equal in the United Commonwealth, excluding the refugees of nations not part of the Confederation, who were treated as second-class citizens. None of that mattered to Morse. He saw all races inferior to the drygona.
He despised the fact that the once great Drygonian Empire was no more, with the new Drygonian Federation a shell of what it once was. He despised that now the Carnelians, the proper noun to describe both the kayans and felics as a group, were free and not in servitude to the drygonas, who gave them all this great technology and lifestyle they now flaunt openly. They should be thanking their former masters, Morse thought. It was his birthright, as a drygona, that the other races should bow to him. He despised that he had to speak their barbaric tongue in order to get around. He despised his parents, who left the Federation so that they may live here. He despised that he himself was a citizen of the United Commonwealth instead of the Drygonian Federation, like he should have been if his parents hadn't left their home. Most of all, he hated the Confederation and its Coalition, or as he would put it, "Oppression Forces".
The Galactic Alliance Confederation was created 945 years ‘After Ragnarok’, in the aftermath of the Army of the Faceless rebellion, as a meta-government body that regulated trade, responded to intergalactic disputes, and policed crimes outside the authority of a single Nation. The Confederation Treaty was signed by three nations, the United Commonwealth, Drygonian Federation, and the Galvony Kingdom, along with a small fraction of the Kazertyne Directorate that had split off, the Star Station Protectorate, and many single world planetalities. Its military body, the Coalition, was a combined force of all the signing nations' militaries that guarded the First Worlds (primary worlds of the nations, mainly highly urbanized and sophisticated worlds where the majority of the citizens lived) and patrolled along the Mainline (the trade planets and colonies that were priceless to the First Worlds) from the threats coming from Wild Space (areas of the galaxy that had no formal law or ownership from any nation. Most are former colonies of the other nations) and other nations not part of the Confederation.
        The problem Morse had with the Confederation was that it was a bureaucratic mess, like most democratic organizations. The Council, the governing body of the Confederation, was mired in constant indecision and could barely manage anything. It also didn't help that they also had little to no power thanks to intentional limitations to power by the Confederation Treaty. The Confederation did not govern its member nations, just the area between them and intergalactic disputes. The Confederation could not interfere with the affairs of individual governments nor could they impose additional taxes from the nations. Instead, the Confederation relied on trade tariffs, financial support from the UC and the Drygonian Federation, and "generous" private donations, which made up nearly twenty-five percent of the Confederation's income. Due to the last financier, the Council was rather corrupt as well, swayed by private interest from corporations. Even worse, the way the Confederation made decisions made it extremely difficult to pass proposals and laws.  The Council needed a two-thirds majority vote for a proposal to pass and rarely did a proposal get even one-half of the votes needed to pass. This process gained public scrutiny when the planet Carnifuge was under attack by a radical rebel group for three entire months before the Confederation decided to send its forces to respond to the threat. Of course, their votes had little to do with the welfare of the people, but to appease their corporate masters. They used their one strong power they had, the Coalition, the most advanced and powerful military force currently in the galaxy, to secure precious resources for corporations while neglecting to help out the many suffering planets outside of the Coalition's so-called jurisdiction. These same planets were the same ones that seceded from their former nations after they completely ignored their colonies’ need for supplies and welfare, then rallied and rebelled together as the Army of the Faceless in a futile attempt at revenge. It angered Morse to no end that the First Worlds were living in a state of near constant luxury while millions in Wild Space were living in near impoverished conditions. Morse wanted nothing more than to spread the wealth and prosperity of the First Worlds to the struggling worlds in Wild Space.
To Morse, democracy was greatly flawed and had failed entirely. Democracy was a terrible and inefficient system of government suffocating in bureaucracy and indecision. What the Galaxy needed right now, more than anything, was for an intelligent, decisive leader to arise, take control, and create new, stronger government for the People and send the galaxy into another golden age, like the one that occurred during the Drygonian Empire. The logic made perfect sense to him; the democratic Drygonian Republic lasted a mere five hundred years and was nearly destroyed by the Kazertynes, while the strong Drygonian Empire lasted five times longer and nearly conquered the entire galaxy. Democracy allowed chaos to become common; a totalitarian government strived for order. A strong government was a good government, one that protected the People from all threats, one that would solve disputes so the People did not have to do it themselves, one that provided the welfare and care the People needed, one that could not be bought out by the interests of private, greedy corporations, and one the People would fully endorse.  It was the duty of Man to serve their government, so that their government could serve them.
This philosophy didn't even occur to Morse until he attended college. He was halfway through his first semester when he wrote a compare-and-contrast paper between the Empire and Coalition, which ended up very pro Empire, for his midterm exam. This caught the eye of his humanities professor, who asked Morse to stay after class. The professor asked Morse several questions about his beliefs and thoughts on the galaxy and Morse answered honestly. The professor then handed him a flyer for an evening meeting of like-minded people called the "Schuler Liga von Reich Forscher"
Morse followed the directions on the flyer and was shocked by what he found. There were nearly one hundred or so fellow students all here, mingling and conversing  with each other. Many of them were drygona but there was also a fair amount of the other races here as well, which annoyed Morse almost to the point where he left. Still, his curiosity kept him captivated. The room was  cavernous, the reason being is because it was an ancient ruin from the Imperial Era, buried under the modern university. The room was as dark as a dungeon, lit only by several fire pyres, giving the entire room an invigorating feel. Around the walls were hung large black banners with a single red hand spread open. He took five steps into the room before a group of fellow students greeted him, and began to find out more about him. This was all new to him. For the first time in his life, he felt welcomed and appreciated.
After an hour of conversing, dancing, drinking, and just all around having a good time, everyone gathered around a stage. On top of it, at the podium, was Morse's professor, dressed in white robes and a hood! He spoke fervently to the crowd of young students and scholars, "Good evening, compatriots! You have been gathered here tonight because you all share the same interest:  a profound knowledge and respect for our once great Empire that ruled the galaxy nearly a millennia ago. You also share the same disgust and hatred for the travesty our ‘great’ Confederation has become. They do not serve us; the Majority! They serve their master Corporations; the entitled Few! Still, the citizens of the Coalition go about their lives, ignoring this injustice, manipulated by the very government meant to protect them! They believe that they are safe in their cozy First Worlds, protected by the almighty Coalition. They do not know the hardships that are occurring outside the borders of the Confederation, where millions are starving and just struggling to survive. Our brothers and sisters in Wild Space do not know the definition of ‘luxury.’ The only luxury they know is life! The Confederation does nothing to help them. They only care about the interests of their sponsors. Do not worry, though. The days of the Confederation are numbered. A new leader has arisen who wishes to free us from the corrupted Confederation and retake the throne to bring the Empire back to its former glory. You, of course, have probably already heard these rumors. You've seen the news about the Carnifuge conflict. Swarms of terrorists, murdering innocent people and bombing cities. They call themselves the ‘Hand of Cathorn’, an opposition force to the Coalition, led by a mysterious being known only as ‘Cathorn’. Now, what if I were to tell you it's all a big, huge lie! The Hand of Cathorn are not terrorists! They are patriots, fighting for our freedom! They only attacked the false kings, the thanes of the Clans, because they fought for the one, true King: Cathorn! They never killed a single innocent life, nor bombed any civilian facility! Those are Confederation lies! In fact, those atrocities that they blamed on the Hand of Cathorn were in fact done by the Coalition themselves. They are willing to kill their own citizens to just to push their own agenda on the People! Do not believe their propaganda! Do not let them brainwash you! The Confederation is attempting to destroy our creditability because they know we are their greatest threat. Our numbers are in the tens of millions, yet we blend in perfectly with the citizenry. No matter how hard they search, they cannot possibly distinguish us from their own citizens. We only want to bring peace to the Galaxy, but we must engage in war to achieve it! We are the Hand of Cathorn. Where Cathorn orders us to go, we go. What Cathorn orders us to do, we do. We go and do what he commands without question! The Hand does not question the Mind! Cathorn serves us, so we must serve Him! We are the Hand of Cathorn! We are His Army! We are His Strength! We must show the citizens of the Confederation that they are not safe under this corrupted regime that puts profit over people and the Coalition cannot protect them from the wrath of Cathorn! When Cathorn comes to take his rightful throne, all nations will bow down to his glory. Kann Kathorn uns alle segnen!" The professor finished in draconian.
The entire crowd placed their right hand over their hearts and repeated the line back.
 That speech changed Morse's life forever. His eyes were opened wide and he became aware of the entire galaxy. It gave his life all new meaning and finally made him feel accepted. From this point on, he was devoted to Cathorn's cause and was now impervious to any form of manipulation or propaganda.
Now firmly devoted to Cathorn's cause, he spent almost every waking moment promoting the cause. He helped bring scores of people into the Hand of Cathorn, who in turn brought in scores of their own. Morse rose up the ranks of the local branch of the Hand of Cathorn very quickly, becoming one of the Professor's trusted lieutenants by the end of the semester. During the next semester, he was given more responsibility as a community organizer, setting up social protests and anti-confederation events. It was during one of these events that he met the girl who would become his mate. During the middle of his second semester, he attended a month-long expedition trip to several settled planets in Wild Space, and got to see the struggles of the people on these planets firsthand. To him, the fact that the Confederation was helping these poor souls only proved to him that the Confederation was the most evil force in the entire galaxy. He returned to Tricarn to finish his studies for the semester and give his professor news about the new developments there. However, he found out that his professor was taken into custody and arrested after a large sting operation by UC federal investigators, with assistance by Coalition Peacekeepers. Morse, having only joined the Hand of Cathorn six months before, was now third in command of the Sarafin branch. His new responsibility kept him busy, having to travel across the planet constantly to coordinate with the other branches, giving him very little time to focus on his summer semester and his mate. Still, he couldn't be happier. He was paving the way for the Great Cathorn, after all. By the time autumn semester came, he decided to put all his attention to the Hand of Cathorn and his growing family. He would not need a degree for his new career. However, in the tenth month of the year, Kathsulu, an emergency meeting was held for the leadership of the branches within the Confederation, held on the planet Koleb, the "capital" of the Confederation. It was during this meeting that the leaders of the branches met several undercover agents of the main Hand of Cathorn command, where they relayed Cathorn's new initiative to the branch leaders. There was no discussion or debate about it. All of the leaders agreed and obeyed, promising to bring back this information back to their compatriots at home. The final days of the Confederation were about to be unfolded.
It is War that defines us. Morse pondered the phrase again in his head, before leaving his apartment building out into the cold, winter air.
It was the year 995, After Ragnarok, the twelfth day of the thirteenth month, Azazel, known in the United Commonwealth as "Saint's Eve", the day before Saint's Day, the most celebrated holiday in the nation. The holiday celebrated Saint Jorge Joshua, the man who orchestrated the rebellion and led them to the liberation of the United Commonwealth, which occurred on this day. While it started out simple enough with parents making gifts for their children, symbolizing Saint Joshua giving the gift of Freedom to the citizen of United Commonwealth, the holiday had become a marketing monstrosity and over commercialized. It was the biggest spending season of the entire year and the corporations took full advantage of it. Huge sales, nonstop commercials, sweepstakes, brand wars, and force of tradition persuaded many shoppers to waste much of their savings on material things. Understandably, this was Morse's least favorite time of the year, combining everything he hated about the galaxy.
Snow crunched under his shoes as he made his walk to the metro station several blocks away. A stiff wind picked up and Morse groaned in annoyance, raising the collar of his thick jacket. Although he was warm blooded, he, along with most drygona, hated winter. This was entirely due to having scales, not insulating hair or fur, like the native kayans and felics. During the Commonwealth Rebellion, the Carnelians took full advantage of this biological setback by attacking the occupying drygona in winter. It was also why they declared independence in the winter, because the Carnelians knew the drygonas would be hesitant to send a counterattack in the midst of a clear disadvantage. When the Empire sent in reinforcements during the spring of the next year, the newly founded United Commonwealth was ready for them.
Morse kept walking down at a steady pace down the sidewalk, despite the cold wind. If it wasn't for him focusing on the objective at hand, Morse probably would have remarked about how nice of a day it was. It wasn't overly snowing and the wind wasn't too heavy. The sun warmed the area enough to not make it frigid without melting all the new snow. Everything seemed peaceful and tranquil, and many people were taking advantage of the weather by spending lots of time outside. It was a nearly a perfect Saint's Eve.
Suddenly, a chunk of ice and snow smacked Morse in the side of the head. Morse's instant fury nearly melted the snow debris off his clothes. He turned his head to see a group of frat boys having a snowball fight, complete with sculpted snow forts and a snowman holding a forty ounce bottle.
"Hey, dude! Merry Liberation!" One of the frat boys yelled over to Morse, using the alternative name for the day.
Morse turned his head back to face where he was walking. He wasn't going to acknowledge the sophomoric idiots. Bah humbug, he thought to himself.
A short while later, Morse entered the station, payed his toll, and got onto one of the railcars, which went into the city down the hillside. He did respect that the interior of the cart was clean and maintained. He had been on many that were scrawled with graffiti and had less-than-savory people riding with him. After a "short" trip of forty-five minutes, he got off at the Freyas Home Station, right in the heart of the city Sarafin.
As soon as he left the station, he heard a rumble in the air. He looked up high to see five jet fighters fly by on their routine patrols around the city. There was also a large airship looming overhead at about four miles above the city. Morse then turned his attention to the rest of the city.
Sarafin was not the largest city on Tricarn by any measure, but still had a population of around fifteen million people. Historically, it was an immensely important city, built on the mouth of the Rouge River, which went deep into the continent of Strashenge, the northernmost continent in the northwestern hemisphere of Tricarn. During the Kayan-Felic Wars, the city changed hands constantly and the saying "He who held Sarafin, controlled Strashenge" was made to reflect the importance of this valuable city. In modern times, Sarafin stationed two large fleets, one air and the other nautical. It also was home of one of the five space elevators on Tricarn, colossal towers that extended all the way to the outer atmosphere, where it was attached to an orbital station, where star freighters would dock and send freight and supplies down to the planet. The space elevator was not the only humongous building in Sarafin. Skyscrapers, some as high as three kilometers, breached the clouds above. The average building in the city was over one thousand feet high, all staples of the corporate complex of our modern society. Companies competed for having the highest buildings in the cities, a competition Morse deduced was nothing more than compensation for the executives' phallic insecurities.
Normally, the glass-gilded skyscrapers were very scenic during most of the year. However, it being winter, where everything was gray and white, the windows just reflected the lack of scenery, making buildings seem dull and boring. To make up for this during the holiday season, many businesses draped red, white, and blue banners down the sides of the buildings, and made use of eye-catching lights of many different colors, some even having festive flashing patterns. Patriotic music was also used to attract people into stores, along with street acts sponsored by businesses in order to bring the crowds in to patronize their shops. In almost every lobby of a skyscraper stood a large pine tree dressed with ornaments, lights, and tinsel.
The streets and sidewalk, of course, were super busy. It was the last day before Saint's Day and long lines of anxious shoppers waited outside businesses. There was a large traffic jam in the avenues as more shoppers searched for available parking. Carolers serenaded them, singing hymns and festive songs of the history of the Rebellion and the United Commonwealth. Morse struggled to maneuver his way through the bustling crowds, all without saying a word. Occasionally on the way to his destination, he would be shouldered or shoved from someone thinking he was cutting them off or waiting for Morse to ask permission to pass them. Morse could care less. He knew there would be karma for their acts soon. As he moved forward, he encountered several men dressed as Uncle Bart (short for Bartholomew Frankel, one of the founding fathers of the UC), who was shaking a bell with a large tin pail next to him. He was asking donations for local homeless shelters, foods, and programs that would retrain the homeless to have sustainable careers. He would simply pass them by, as he knew they had no true charity in their hearts. If they did, they would put the money forth to help the struggling worlds outside the Confederation. Charity, in general, was flawed. It was not true activism. If people really wanted to solve the galaxy's problems, they would need to balance the wealth entirely, so that all people were truly equal.
Morse came upon another Uncle Bart, but this one engaged him personally.
"Hey there, sir! I'm gathering donations for the battered womens’ shelter on Marborath Ave.  We need your donation. Every credit counts!" The donation ringer said, with a very sweet and caring face.
Morse walked back to him, nearly ignoring him completely, but as he passed by, he had his eyes focused on the donation ringer.
"Sir! Please! These women are struggling! They need your help. Please, sir. Sir! Sir?" The donation ringer pleaded to Morse, then looked down at the cold ground when he knew it was futile. He then prayed for a blessing to soften Morse's heart.
Morse smirked from the schadenfreude, the joy of causing emotional pain. Naive fool! He didn't even realize it was the Confederation's own corporate system that has caused all these people to be homeless. He is just a slave to the capitalist machine. Morse thought these things as he continued walking.
Morse continued weaving his way through the crowds for nearly an hour, until he finally reached his location: the Jarl of Presha National Mall. The mall was one of the largest in the UC, with a total of six and a half million square feet of floor area and had seven hundred stores inside. It was the epitome of the corporate hegemony, all that was wrong and evil in the galaxy.
 There was a sudden explosion on the sidewalk in front of him. He whipped his head around to see where it came from. About one hundred feet in front of him, there was a big box, around two feet in width and length and three feet high, sparkling several different colored sparks while shooting up several rockets into the air, exploding about thirty feet in the air. It took Morse a moment to realize it was a box of fireworks, set up and lit by a group of kids, who were dancing underneath the streams of colors. It didn’t take long for a police officer to confront them.
 "Eh! Put that thing out! Now”! The officer shouted at the kids.
"We can't. It's almost done. I promise!" One of the kids spoke up. Sure enough, the box was spent fifteen seconds later.
"Okay everyone. That is enough. Give me all your fireworks." The officer ordered.
The kids looked at each other, then one by one they gave the rest of the fireworks to the officer. "Sorry, sir. We were being careful. We didn’t mean to hurt anyone." Another child said.
"I understand. But you need to learn to be responsible! You can't just light a box of fireworks in the middle of a street, especially on a day as busy as today! And you certainly shouldn't be playing in the fumes as well! You could really hurt yourselves." The police officer scolded them sternly, then slowly smiled, "Besides, you shouldn't be firing off fireworks during the day. They are meant to be used at night, silly boys!"
"Sorry sir. It won't happen again." A third kid said, his head down in shame.
"I'll tell you what. Do you guys promise to be responsible and safe? Can you be patient?" The officer asked kindly.
The kids nodded back.
The officer handed back the fireworks to the kids. "Good. Then use these responsibly. If I catch any of you lighting them again during the day, you won't get a second chance." The officer said, looking each child in the eye. "Merry Saint's Day”!
What an idiot, Morse thought. You can't just let kids handle fireworks! They weren't responsible enough to handle them safely. They're going to blow their hands off! If he was that officer, he would have confiscated the fireworks and taken the kids down to the precinct, made them call their parents, and fine the parents for reckless endangerment.
Morse kept walking, watching the kids disappear into an alley behind the building. The officer then turned and spoke to Morse.
"Can I help you with something, sir?" The officer asked honestly.
Anxiety suddenly rose up in Morse's body. Act normal, he thought. Act normal! "Umm... uhh...errr...um…" was the only thing he could say.
The police officer's eyes narrowed in concern. His right hand went down to his utility belt, close to his side arm, "Is something wrong? Are you in trouble? Take a breath and speak normally." The officer asked calmly.
Morse was beginning to panic. He's on to me! No, he's not. Calm down, he reasoned to himself. "Uhh... no. I'm cold. Really cold”! Morse said all at once.
The officer nodded, "Okay. Why don't you go into the Pedquod up the street and get a nice hot coffee to warm yourself up." The officer offered, pointing Morse in the right direction.
"Umm...okay. Thank you." Morse said quickly and shuffled quickly towards the coffee shop.
He checked his watch. It was 12:45, fifteen minutes to noon. He was running right on time, so he would have to be quick inside Pedquod. He entered the corner coffee shop. Almost instantly, the aromas of grounded coffee beans and fresh brews overcame his senses. The shop itself was very arty and causal, with wood accents on the floor and walls with usage of browns and grays, low lights, and several abstract pictures on the walls. A mellow song from a local band was playing softly over the speakers in the shop. This was all keeping in the theme of the hipster culture that use to frequent the coffee shops before Pedquod went forward with its aggressive store-on-every-damn-street-corner campaign.
Morse walked to the front counter, surprised that there wasn't a long line. A young, tawny, felic girl was at the register, braces still on her teeth as she smiled at Morse, "Merry Saint's Day, sir." She greeted sweetly.
"I'm a Draconian." Morse responded with hostility. In reality, he had given up being a draconian a long time ago. Draconism was the religion of the Thirteen Dragons, the ones that governed the universe. Each month was named after a dragon and all draconians were to pay tribute to the patron dragon of the month. It was the dominant religion of most of the galaxy, although not so much in the United Commonwealth, where the most prominent religion was Patriotism. Although still technically part of Draconism, in that followers still believe in the dragons, the main beliefs were the voluntary worship of the founding fathers of the United Commonwealth who brought freedom to the galaxy. Many people focused on worshipping Saint Joshua, who is often called the great Liberator, Father of Freedom, and Dragon Slayer. To Morse, he was nothing more than a rebellious punk; one who disobeyed authority rather than bow his head in service to the Kaiser, The Traitor to the Empire. Of course, both Draconism and Patriotism meant little to him. His only Deity was Cathorn.
The girl at the cashier was slightly taken back and apologized. "I'm sorry, Sir. 'Merry Azazel'."
"Glory to Azazel." Morse corrected under his breath.
"Y'know, Saphira is my patron Dragon." The girl tried get on common ground with Morse.
"Can I just get a small cappuccino?" Morse said impatiently.
"Uhh, yes sir. That will be six credits and fifty-four cents." The girl replied, downtrodden.
Morse swiped his debit card down the card slot and authorized the purchase.
"Can I get your name?" The girl asked, with a pen in one hand and the coffee cup in another.
Morse sighed. This was taking too long. "It's Morse."
"Norse?" The girl repeated back.
"No, Morse." Morse said louder and enunciating.
"Oh, okay." The girl said and filled the cup with cappuccino, then put a lid on top. She then handed the cup to Morse, and then pointed with her eyes to the tip jar on the counter. Morse just turned around and left Pedquod.
Morse crossed the street over to the Jarl of Preshia Mall. He took a sip of his cappuccino and was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. He then looked at the cup itself. "Moorse" he read the name written on the cup to himself. He then took another sip as he entered the doors of the mall.
The mall was even more festive than the entire city outside. A whole choir met him as he entered through the door singing angelic music. Holiday sale signs were everywhere Morse looked. Holly and colorful lights outlined storefronts and the walkways on the next floor. There was even a faux snow pile where a large group of children were playing. However, what caught his attention was a kayan also dressed in a long coat. Morse went passed him. The kayan nodded to Morse. Morse nodded back.
As he made his way through the mall, he saw other similarly dressed people. Each one would nod at Morse, to which he would nod back.
Anticipation and excitement grew in his body. As he passed by the many stores, he began to look into them, growing more curious about what was being sold in each shop.  The shops sold many high-end luxuries, mainly clothes, but also cutting-edge electronics, newly-released books and music, and lifestyle items. All these things were very expensive; things many people wanted, but few could afford. His paced slowly as he watched an action movie clip featuring coalition soldiers fighting in a forest battlefield. He then shook his head rapidly to get his head back in the mission. He could not be distracted by the propaganda of the Confederation.
He kept walking to the destination, although he began to think he was lost because he couldn't find where his destination was. He tried looking at the mall map, but he had trouble reading it properly. Abruptly, a woman dropped her bag, the contents spilling out near Morse's feet. Morse got down and helped the woman place the things back into the bag. Morse also noticed she had a small girl with her.
"Oh, thanks. It means a lot, sir." The woman said, nudging her child.
" Thank you, mister." The small girl replied, looking wide-eyed.
Morse faked a smile, "You're very welcome. You guys seem to be in a rush. Where are you headed?" Morse led them.
"Oh, little Morgana here is going to get to see Saint Joshua." The woman said with a wink. The girl grinned.
"What a funny coincidence. I'm supposed to see my sister and brother-in-law there with my niece. However, I'm having trouble finding where that is." Morse lied.
"You can follow us. I know where we're going." The woman offered, just as Morse had hoped.
"Sounds good" Morse had concluded.
Morse followed the woman and her daughter to their left side. Along the way, the woman broke the silence. "I'm Gwenleigh” she said extending her hand.
"Leoth" Morse replied and shook her hand, using his alias.
"Don't you just love this season? It  just feels so magical. Everyone's in a better mood."
"Yeah, it's my favorite time of the year."  Morse lied. "So what do you do in life?"
"Oh, me? I'm just a stay-at-home mom. My mate works as a marketing consultant at Millennium Block Cable and Networking."
"Interesting" Morse said. A corporate pawn.
"I'm an... Economic Major about to get my Bachelors next semester," He fibbed.
"That's neat. So are you visiting your sister from out of town?"
"What?" Morse questioned. Then realized what she meant. "Oh, I'm from the University on the hill."
"Oh you are? I just thought you were out of town because you don't know your way around the mall here. Have you not been here before?"
"No, ya know, student budget and all that. Can't afford to go here."
"Okay. So what's your niece's name?" Gwenleigh asked.
"Oh, her name's...Morsina." Morse let out.
"Aww, that's a cute name. Hey, look we're here. Okay Morgana, remember to stay with Mommy in line,"Gwenleigh announced.
Right in front of Morse were hundreds of kids and parents all in a large, circular line waiting to see "Saint Joshua,” who was under a huge, triangular pine tree. The tree must have been at least eighty feet high and was decorated with thousands of ornaments, tens of thousands of lights, and had red, white, and blue tinsel wrapped around it. The rotunda was divided by a vibrant red velvet rope which wrapped around the rotunda. There was also a balcony with an escalator on either side that overlooked the scene of excited children waiting to meet Saint Joshua.
As Gwenleigh and Morgana walked away to get in line, Morse walked towards the red velvet dividing rope to get a better look. From Morse's quick estimate, there must have been at least five hundred children in line to get their picture taken. The wait alone was already two hours. Morse could see the man dressed as Saint Joshua in the back, sitting in a big, red throne with the United Commonwealth's flag behind him as a backdrop. This impersonator was a kayan, even though no one knew what race Saint Joshua actually was. Surprisingly, despite all the past racial tensions and prejudices the kayans and felics had towards each other, debates over what was Saint Joshua's race were rare. The impersonator was dressed in a long white robe with a red sash across his body. He also had a full beard. The reason all these children were here was because, by legend, Saint Joshua adored children and taught that they were both innocent and beings of true freedom.
What bothered Morse the most about Jorge Joshua was his title of "Saint" because he knew it was a lie. Historically, the title of "Saint" was reserved for devout followers of the Dragons, who had become enlightened. Jorge Joshua's title was a mockery of this. Jorge Joshua came out of nowhere during the height of the Drygonian Empire, when he challenged the authority of the governor of Tricarn. The most famous of these pre-war protests occurred when during the conclusion of a televised speech by the kaiser at the time, when everyone bowed down to him, Joshua did not: a single man in a field of thousands. Guards were sent to capture and kill him, but he evaded arrest. He then organized an underground movement to overthrow the planetary government, with co-conspirators Bartholomew Frankel, Thomly Adoms, and Beck Carlain. In the month of Tyrath, the beginning of winter, Joshua led an armed rebellion when a battalion of the Drygonian 26th Guard Division sought to seize an armory filled with weapons. This audacious attack was overwhelmingly victorious, and inspired many others on the planet to rebel. Joshua organized millions of rag tag soldiers to ready themselves for the coming counterattack in spring. When the Empire attacked, Joshua met them with his army, on the frontlines, rather than far from the field of battle like most generals. Later in the war, Joshua became even more audacious, wearing the flag of the Commonwealth, which he designed, on his back so the imperial forces could better identify him. During the seven-year war of liberation, Joshua never lost a battle under his command. In the aftermath of the Rebellion, the people wanted to declare Joshua their king. Joshua swiftly declined saying, "we did not overthrow one Tyrant so that we may raise another to occupy his space!" Instead, Joshua proposed the creation of a democracy, where the government would never have power over the People. Now christened a saint, Joshua spent the rest of his days as a humble being, wandering the worlds, helping out wherever he was and being the Grand Judge to the United Commonwealth, looking over the laws passed by parliament and declaring them constitutional or unconstitutional based on whether they obstructed freedom or not. Then, just as mysteriously as he came, he disappeared, flying out to unknown sectors of the Asgard Galaxy. To Morse, there was nothing "Saintly" about him. All he wanted to do was attract attention to himself. There was nothing humble or honorable about him.
Suddenly, Morse's alarm went off. It was thirteen o'clock. It was noon. It was time.
A large boom was heard down one wing of the mall. Several parents turned their heads in confusion.
"What was that?" One mother said.
"I think those were fireworks." Another mom inferred.
"Inside the mall?” a dad asked suspiciously.
A second boom went off down another wing, followed by screams.
Morse closed his eyes. 'It is War that defines us'. He pondered the quote again in his mind. He was at war with the United Commonwealth. He was at war with the Confederation. He was at war with the corporate hegemony and everything that was opposed to Cathorn. He thought about his mate, then his young son and his second child on the way. He had to fight this war for them, to free the next generation from the Confederation's tyranny. He also had to stop the next generation in front of him, the ones that had already become brainwashed, from growing up to serve their masters.  Morse was the true patriot sacrificing his life for the ones he loved most.
"Zerstörung der Feinde des Kathorn! (Destruction to the Enemies of Cathorn!)" he screamed at the top of his lungs, before flipping the switch on his vest under his coat and detonated himself.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Phoenix

Phoenix: Battle of New Warden
Chapter 5
Divide and Conquer


Tetin Jakere watched over the number of elite guards patrolling around the cubicles inside the Incarui Head Accounting Office. He was anxious. When he woke up today, he knew what the day would bring. It was going to be a great day for the Finger of Cathorn. With the leaders of the Fingers of Cathorn all together discussing what would be the next plan of attack and how to do it effectively, it was like a massive think-tank for the future of the galaxy. However, Tetin knew several things most of the leaders upstairs didn't know about. He knew about the Coalition's plot to send a strike force before the day had started, but didn't tell a soul besides those within the Circle of Trust. That was why he was so anxious. He was told the Federation strike force would be crushed, but he didn't expect a full blown invasion; not just infantry but tanks, APCs, and hovercraft. The thousands of terrorists outside couldn't handle a force that size and he had received intelligence several minutes ago that a convoy had reached the base of Skyrest Citadel. Luckily, the twenty-second through the twenty-eighth floor were crammed with terrorists and the seventieth-seventh to eightieth floors had very skilled mercenaries. They would hold the Coalition's long enough until the time arose to when Cathorn would play his trump card. For Cathorn, today would be the start of his control on the galaxy, an iron grip that would ensure everyone was truly equal under him, but to Tetin Jakere, it would be the start of him exacting revenge against the death of his father, the legendary Capcor Jakere.
Capcor Jakere was a sixteen year old Kayan farmhand who took up arms during the very middle of the Tri-Front War, exactly fifty-one years before today. For five years, the First Worlds were in the midst of a three-way war, mainly between the Kazertyrn Directorate , the will of Galvony Military, and the United Republics. As these three forces focused on tearing each other apart, the outer worlds, which were colonies and settlements not along major trade routes, suffered terribly economically and resource wise as trade came to a standstill. Millions died of starvation. As theses atrocities occurred, whispers of revolution spread though out the Outer Worlds, and later came to full blown cries and riots. After Capcor's younger sister died of malnutrition, he ran away from home and joined up with the Typerthan People's Army. Later, this group became funneled into a much larger organization, the Army of the Faceless.
The Army of the Faceless attacked in mass along the Mainline, striking hard at trade planets. This hit hard at many planetaries and star unions economically and the raids brought back food and supplies back to the raiders worlds. Then the Army of the Faceless met their victors; the combined might of the United Republics and their mutual allies, such as the Dygonian Kingdoms and the newly reestablished Kazertyrn Protectorate. Behind United Republics' strength and ingenuity, the went into the Mainline and forced the Army of the Faceless back in a grand campaign that only took two years to complete. One year later, the United Republics proposed the establishment of the the Galactic Alliance Coalition, a shared arms pact for the promotion and protection for Peace and stability throughout the galaxy and the Galactic Alliance Federation, a council in charge of the Coalition, trade, and solving cross-system disputations. They also assured that the Federation was merely defense program, and didn't have any powers over Planetaries or System Governments. Formally, it created a defensive perimeter around the first worlds and sent large amounts of troops along the mainline, securing trade interests.
The Galactic Alliance Coalition became a symbol of Victory throughout the Galaxy but Capcor knew the truth. He knew that the Galactic Alliance Coalition was the grand scheme of the imperialists; militarized police, a grand Army no one would be able to stand up against. That is why Capcor kept fighting. He joined several pirate groups starting at age twenty, becoming leader of the Teserruct Avenger at age twenty-two. Four years later, he found his mate-to-be, a servant to a rich, aristocratic family while raiding a star port on the planet of Escurage. They had their first child a year later, Tamas Jakere and their second another year later, Shokrin. Tetin was born nine years later, the baby of the family. After several years as the leader of the Tesurrect Avengers, he resigned the position to spend more time with his family, although he still took direct command over certain missions, even taking his sons on these missions so they could witness the power of liberation in action.
It was during one of these missions that Capcor suffered his greatest setback. While Capcor was demonstrating to then ten years old Tetin about proper tactics for a ship take over, by actually taking over a Star Freighter, things had gone tragic at home. During the night, a Felic Aerial Strike Team raided the Teserruct Avengers' Compound slaughtering everyone, including Tamas and Shokrin, who were defending their dead mother. When Capcor heard the terrible news, he fell to the ground, wept and ignited his inner rage at Galactic Alliance and the ancient blood hatred for the Felic race. The following three years saw a lot of change for Capcor and Tetin. Tetin was sent undercover to the Galactic Alliance Coalition Academy on Coragon, where he'd be both safe and be a mole in the Coalition. Meanwhile, Capcor spent a year two years, negotiating treaties and alliances between the many pirate, rebel and terrorist groups outside of Federal Space. Capcor began his masterwork.
Slowly, he had sent in small starships into Federal space, too inconspicuous to be checked for weaponry. Then he launched his attack, raiding the planet Soren's naval yards and stealing sixty percent of the star and airships kept there. As admiral of this fleet, he went on the attack, another grand campaign, but this time in the first worlds, bombing the planets and then moving to the next target before a coalition fleet could respond. However, his hubris got the better of him at Tricarn. There he spent an unprecedented three days assaulting and bombing the planet, killing tens of thousands. Before bombing Tricarn's capital, Metrocarn, he was stopped by a coalition fleet led by the heroic Bladin twins. Through a fierce battle, the stolen fleet was destroyed and Capcor was captured.
Over the next year, he was convicted to death and put into a top secret Federation prison. He suffered two weeks, enduring the usual atrocities found in prisons. When he returned to his cell after a spending a week in the clinic from a fight he lost, he found a handwritten note addressed to him from a mysterious person known as Cathorn. Cathorn said he was personally inspired by Capcor's assault on the first world and had begun his own takeover plan, but on a much, much larger scale. He promised Capcor a large role in the plot if Capcor promised his allegiance and support to Cathorn's cause. Capcor couldn't refuse,and he signed that he agreed, hiding the note under his pillow where he found it not knowing any other means of responding. The next day, the message was gone, but he didn't receive any punishment. Capor knew it had reached the right hands.
Three long months past. Not once did Capcor lose hope. Then on a stormy morning, Sirens rang loud in the prison and armored guards lined the halls in defense. They were no match for the teams of soldiers that slaughtered them and broke Capcor out, along with hundreds others who had volunteered on the spot. Only on the shuttle ride did Capcor learn the extent of Cathorn's influence and power, or where the prison was located. He never knew he was on the Galactic Alliance seat of power, Koleb, in a heavily secured prison and that before the break in, a distraction fleet drew the Coalition forces away so the Break-out team would face little resistance. There was also another reason why Cathorn's force attacked Koleb. They assassinated the Director of the Galactic Alliance Federation, the charismatic and beloved Jasfer Kisplin during the strike. Capcor was very impressed.
After getting cleaned up and finally getting some good sleep, he had his first meeting with Cathorn himself, one of the very few ever to meet him. He was slightly taken back at first, surprised at who sat in front of him but after hearing Cathorn's multistep plan, he gave his full support. The plan was nearly flawless.
Cathorn tasked Capcor to help create a new revolutionary group, the "Fingers of Cathorn" as they would be called, as spread chaos throughout the galaxy and gather people and resources to help the cause. Capcor accepted the leadership position, and began his quest. He started by getting his son back from Coalition hands.
This task wasn't as hard as when Capcor broke free. Basically, he informed Tetin a week prior that he was going to get picked up and meet in the backwoods of Coragon with his belongings and get ready to move. The plan worked accordingly, and one week later, Capcor stood in front of his youngest son, now fourteen. He and Tetin spent the next week together. Tetin was glad to see his father, but he soon came to the realization that all his father cared about was vengeance against Galactic Alliance Federation. He would only asked Tetin about information of Coalition strategies, nown attack plans anfd secret locations of Coalition bases, all that were not talked about at the Academy. Frequently, Tetin tried to change the subject to himself and what he had learned and experienced but Capcor would always bring it back to getting information. Soon, their father-son relationship came to a flashpoint. Capcor became annoyed after not getting the information be wanted. He accused Tetin of being brainwashed by the Coalition,, which was far from the truth in Tetin's opinion' who still harbored a fierce hatred for the Coalition. tetoin however did not want to be part of Cathoirn's grand scheme and wanted to live life the way he wanted. Furious, Capcor casted him out, exiling Tetin to the Mobile Space Staton Sirga with a considerable amount of money. This was the last time Tetin ever saw his father.
Seventeen years past. Tetin had been working as a Private Security Consultant for fourteen years. He was mainly in charge for security for several Casinos in Velga City, which was a relatively easy jobs, with drunken, angry casino guests who had lost their savings gambling being his biggest worry. However, he had become overconfident in his abilities and made notable over sights that cost his employers millions. The only reason they kept him was due to the fact he attended the Academy, which was rare to find outside of Federation Space. He also was very proud of his father's accomplishments, which he made sure everyone knew, giving him a certain inherited reputation.
Then one day, Tetin received a message that someone was looking for him and wanted to meet him at a dive bar. He had a feeling it was his father. It wasnt't. The man that stood in front of him was ragged and wore a sling for his arm. He was a Kayan as well, and he guessed about forty years of age. He was shocked to find out he was twenty-nine, two years younger than Tetin himself. He introduced himself as Lieutenant Sorquin, and he was Capcor's second in command on Carnifuge.
Tetin had heard only a few things out of Carnifuge, but everything that did come out sounded good. A huge force of combatants had performed guerilla attacks on Carnifuge and kicked the Coalition's ass. He had no doubt his father's hand was part of it, returning the price to what had happened to his family.
Sorquin told him the long events of what had occurred on Carnifuge, the seven years of set up, how Capcor declined to be the head honcho of the operation, handing it over to someone named Kobrana, thus allowing Capcor to have a frontline role on Carnifuge, the successes in battle, then the bombshell: That Capcor had been killed. Sorquin explained that the Capcor's squad had responded to a missing convoy, and tracked it to wreckage along the road. They moved into the forest and soon were ambushed. Rapidly, the squad began to fall. Soon, only him and Capcor were still fighting. Sorquin then said that befoire he got shot and went out out, he discovered that it was only one person fighting them, a figure covered in shrubbery. He said that when he woke up, that Capcor was lying on the ground, bleeding out of multiple wounds. Sorquin crawled over to him, and Capcor said he always regretted being angry at his son and he wanted to tell his son that he loved him.
Tetin broke out in tears at the bar, emotionally strikened. Sorquin gave Tetin one last item, a finely sealed note. Tetin opened it. It was from Cathorn himself, giving his sympathies to Tetin for the loss of his father and promising Tetin a vengeance if he accepted a position with his forces.
Now Two years later, he stands on the observation deck on the top office floor of the Skyrest Citadel, as Head of Security. Today would be a day of reckoning.
Tetin's personal assistant and Body guard, Baxster Ky'lin, tapped him on the shoulder. Baxster was a large, muscular Felic of the Ger'Fron Clan, and a Veteran of Carnifuge. As part of one of several Clans that helped the Fingers of Cathorn in hiding and battle, he personally fought alongside Capcor Jakere and knew him well. He as glad to have the opportunity to watch over Capcor's son.
"Sir, Markaus Zerraki is here. He says he has a new development from the Coalition outside." Baxster said deeply.
"Well tell the damn Drygona to get his ass in here. We're not paying for him to stand around." Tetin yelled. He was focused on the room below him and making sure the room was secure.
"I already invited myself in." Markaus chirped from behind Tetin, giving Tetin a jolt. "I certainly hope you don't kiss your mother with that month."
Tetin darted his head around and his eyes narrowed at the light brown scaled Drygona. His breathing slowed and deepen and his whole body tensed up.
"Oh, sorry. Slip of the tongue."Markaus apologized insincerely. "Let's just get down to business. Five minutes ago, we discovered that the Secuity Command Center had been breached. We've lost roughly twenty minutes of proper intel. We had to reboot the entire system. The cameras are acting iffy and the comms appeared to be jammed. I also have a suspicion that the coalition have sent in a strike force from a set of hovercraft. Look at what his camera got on the thrifty-third floor."
Markaus brought out his tablet and played a video feed from the cameras. Along the hallway the camera was watching over were tens of bodies, many dead but a few weakly holding onto life. "We received this two minutes ago. Sadly we could not get a solid picture on the team who committee this."
"How could that be? The tower is in lockdown! No one should be able to infiltrate above the ground level?
"Skyrest is a very secure structure and the lockdown procedure is almost impenetrable, but there are several weaknesses that if applied in the right way might allow passage."
Tetin looked again at the camera feed again, "From my guess, its a team of twelve to twenty individuals." He inferred.
"I'm not quite sure. Call me paranoid, but I think there might be less than you think. Like two."
"Two? Are you kidding me. There were over hundred of our guys down there. What makes you think four could take on a force like that?
"Call it a hunch."
"A hunch? Yes, well I prefer to believe in things that are actually possible. Luckily we have those Gangamine Mercenaries guarding the staircases here. The strike force wont be able to get passed them."
"I believe my men would be better suited in defending the staircase. The Gangarmines are of bunch of thugs, with no real special forces training a private military company should have."
"The Gangarmines know how to get a job done and don't retreat. That can't be said for your company. I've read your reports. Your failures at Naccer Summit and Irek Solutions were inexcusable, not to mention your company faced something similar to what we are facing today at the Veron Corporation Building, and your incompetence allowed the Coalition to infiltrate and steal information on the Kergati. The Gangarmines have the honor of never failing a job. They don't show mercy."
Markaus didn't like being talked down to, especially from some snot nosed brat who didn't know that he helped takedown Capcor during his short term serving in the Coalition Sky Navy twenty years ago. For the past week, Tetin had been talking his head off about taking Strategics at the Academy and discussing about the great battles of the past, from the Siege of Mordaeus to the decisive battle of the Cabiboss during the Fifth Great War. Tetin thought of himself as a great military leader. He wasn't. Tetin was using textbook tactics for the security detail, which a real leader would never get caught doing. Real leaders improvised on the fly, never letting the enemy guess his moves. Markaus even extended his abilities further than that, planning his enemies' moves five steps ahead. Capcor and Kobrana were true leaders, who Markaus respected. Tetin was not. Tetin was a weak and feeble coward who demonstrated his strength in voice only.
Despite his inner disdain for Tetin Jakere, he kept his mouth shut. Markaus had fierce loyalty to his employers, who was Kobrana for this operation, and Markaus was being payed a lot for this job. Usually Markaus would be suspicious of being betrayed with the amount his company was being payed, but this did't seem like the case for the Fingers of Cathorn. They were a force fighting on the large-scale with billions in resource, Markaus assumed. They didn't have time to double-cross him.
" Those missions were out of my hands. We were caught off guard." Markaus tried to explain but Tetin wouldn't have it.
"I find your excuses pathetic, but, alas, if we do need reinforcements, your mercs are up in Central Security and can respond quickly. You're lucky Korbana found some use for your company. He's a fool in my opinion."
"I'm sure the he would love to hear that remark. He'll behead you himself for your insolence." Markaus chimed.
"Go ahead and tell him. It won't matter in the long run."
"I'm so sure. Anyway, the other reason I came down here was to escort you back into Central Security. Its not safe for you here."
Markaus gestured to Tetin to follow him, but Tetin wouldn't. "You do not give me orders! My place right now is to be here and make sure this floor is floor is secure. These men below are Cathorn's best. My safety is assured with them. You may go ahead and cower with your lackeys in the CSO."
Markaus had had enough of the Kayan insulting him., "Fine then. When you reach the bowels of Hell, tell your father I said hello." He turned around and began to walk out of the Overlook.
Tetin's face clenched and rage intensified. Finally he snapped and charged Markaus. Markaus predicted this and turned around instantly. With a sleight of hand, Markaus jabbed Tetin in his exposed stomach., then took took Tetin's arm, twisted it, and brought him up close to his face. Baxster raised his gun, but Markaus had beaten him, with a handgun outstretched in his freehand.
"Don't try it, Bax." Markaus asserted, then lowered his head down to look face to face at Tetin, who was struggling feebly. " Don't ever to attack me. You will lose." He then dropped Tetin and left the room.
Tetin crawled to one of the windows and pulled himself up. He scanned the room and found Markaus strolling towards the elevator. Tetin came close to ordering his men to shoot the drygona on sight but ultimately, he bit his lip and let the daring drygona into the elevator unharmed.
Tetin focused his rage at his assistant. "What the hell were you doing! Why didn't you fire at him when you had the chance!" He yelled.
"I'm s-sorry sir. He had the upper hand and ya-you were in way of my shot."Baxster stammered
"DON'T MAKE EXCUSES!" Tetin screamed out loud, disturbing the whole floor. After several deep breaths, he looked out at the many personnel looking up from the office below. "Get back to your duties!" He yelled.
"Sorry sir." Baxster said humiliated.
"It's fine. I don't blame you, I just wish that that Markaus hadn't told me about our situation. Today was going so great until he had to show his scaly face and tell us that a whole strike team is headed up here. Don't worry though. I have this covered."
Tetin radioed the Gangamine Mercenaries guarding the staircase. Their leader picked up.
"Yessssir?" The serbabtis leader asked.
"This is Commander Tetin. You have a Coalition strike team headed straight towards you. Be on guard."
"Thank you. We will make sssure they sssuffer dearly."
"That's why we're paying you" Tetin said, his tone now eased. "That all. Leave none alive." Tetin ended the transmission and sat back in his seat.
"What do we do now, sir?" Baxster asked.
"We sit back and relax. All the heavy work is over. Tell me when it's eleven thirty."
"Yes, sir." Baxster said and focused his eyes on the ticking clock in the Overlook.


Fifteen minutes passed, slow and dull. Tetin had gotten back up out of his seat and once again gazed down at the elite guard organized below. Baxster meanwhile had fallen asleep, the soft hum of gunfire and rocket fire from outside the building a lullaby to his ears. It was unusually calm and almost all their nerves had been settled. Tetin hadn't heard back from the Gangarmine Mercenaries, but he didn't really expect them to call back. Serbantis thugs were cold-blooded, literally and figuratively. Still deep inside his head, the thought of their failure
Tetin's cup suddenly fell from the desk it was perched on. Tetin turned around and went to pick it up. As he looked down, a thought of curiosity popped in his head. Tetin remembered specifically placing the metal cup on the desk square in the middle. How it managed to land on the floor seemed inconceivable, he thought. Then he felt a warm ring touch the back of his neck, the muzzle of a recently used gun.
Tetin instinctively put his hands over his head as to seem cooperative. He also did this to slowly reach for the tiny pistol tied to a leather strap behind his collar. He then turned slowly around to race his captor, a snowy grey kayan with fiery, red eyes staring right back at him. Tetin did a quick scan of the room and realized there were only two coalition soldiers in the room, the kayan facing him and a black felic who had put Baxtser in a headlock. He looked back at the Kayan in front of him, with a sly grin on his face.
" So you two are the only ones that survived the the climb up here." Tetin said arrogantly
The kayan looked right back into Tetin's eyes, with an equally arrogant tone, "No, we're the only ones they sent inside."
All the blood fell from Tetin's face. Not only had Markaus been right, but those two soldiers had gotten past a whole team of Gangarmine Mercenaries. He panicked and went for his pistol. Sadly for him, Kayan was quick to act and twisted Tetin's arm. Tetin tried to scream but the kayan smothered his voice with the greater of his arm. Tetin dropped the gun to the floor and the kayan kicked it across the floor. Baxster tried to struggle free to help his colleague, but the black felic managed to keep a firm grip on him. The kayan pick up Tetin by the collar and pressed him against the wall.
"If you try a stunt like that again, I will take you down. As of now, I require your cooperation. If you tell us what we want, I promise you will remain alive, at least for now." The kayan said sternly, with a slight glimmer of warmth.
Tetin was paralyzed in fear. His whole entire life was surrounded by listening to his father tell his heroics tales of battle alongside compatriots and hopefully being just as heroic as his father someday. Tetin longed for the thrill of the fight, the joy of killing the enemy, and the taste of fresh-spilled blood in the air. Only now did he realize he only enjoyed those tales because his father could always flip it so it would be a victory even if it was a crushing defeat.
Tetin looked down at his feet. He thought about his options in his head, rapidly jumping from idea to idea. The choice seemed simple. All Tetin had to do was scream and he would alert the entire floor below him. This would secure the safety of the leaders on the top floor, but certainly come at the cost of his own life. He knew what he had to do.
Tetin got on his knees, "Please, please don't harm me! I didn't know what I was joining! I, uh, have a wife and three kids! I will do anything you ask, just please don't shoot!" Tetin whimpered pitifully.
Baxster was horrified at how Tetin was now pandering to the Federation scum., losing any dignity he had kept. He new Capcor would have spit on the soldiers' feet and took the bullet. He couldn't let Tetin reveal the secrets of the Fingers of Cathorn but the felic behind him had placed a cloth gag his mouth, which caused any shout or yell to sound more more than a faint whine. All Baxster could do was listen.
"Are you seriously trying to pull the whole 'I have a family' plea? Here's a little hint; A lot of people have families. I'm willing to bet fifty-percent of the people we've fought had families. I don't feel a bit of remorse for their deaths." said the black felic.
"Not to mention that by your micro-twitches and voice fluctuations I can tell you're lying." The kayan brought up, putting his face within inches of Tetin's face, "Now tell us where Commander Kobrana is. I won't ask again." The kayan's red eyes pierced Tetin's soul.
"General." Tetin said sheepishly
"What? Say that louder." The kayan asked politely
"General Kobrana. He was promoted." Tetin added shamefully, "He's in the board room, with they rest of the leaders."
The kayan asked another question, "Who are the leaders?"
"I don't know! I'm just a security officer, that's all. I know many are high ranking leaders and their corporate sponsors."
"Corporate sponsors?" The Kayan repeated, turning towards his partner, who had a slightly astonished look on his face. "Well, I guess that explains how they got all their supplies and weaponry." The kayan turned back to Tetin, "Okay, thank you. I'm going to need you to go the intercom and order the men below us to move out. Don't comply and I will kill you." The Kayan threatened.
Right before Tetin could reach the intercom, Baxster stomped on the black Felic's foot, breaking free of his grip. Baxtser then lunged towards the red, emergency switch. He slammed the switch down and a siren emitted around the entire floor. Baxtser managed to give one last glare at Tetin before the black felic fired three rounds into Baxtser's chest.
Suddenly the windows of the overlook shattered, as a hailstorm of rounds flew through the air from the floor below. The kayan and felic dove down into computer desks for cover, while Tetin ran for the doorway. A single click of a handgun stopped him.
"You not going anywhere, dude." The felic said, pointing his handgun at Tetin's head.
"Leave him, T'Ko! He's complied to our orders so far," The kayan ordered his partner, but warned Tetin as well, "but if you bring back a squad of your cronies, your the first person I'm shooting." Tetin bowed his head and thanked him, "Castra cer shan." which literally translates to " Many Blessing"
The Kayan nodded in acceptance and Tetin ran off.


T'Ko stuck his head out of the desk he was in, "So what now Kirek! I don't think Plan F will work here." T'Ko shouted condescendingly
"Y'Know, its times like these i'm so happy to have you as my partner." Kirek shot back, feeling for a flashbang on his bandolier. "Okay here's the plan. I'm going to stun them with a flashbang. That buys you seven seconds. You're going to jump off into the cubicles below. Fight through on the ground while I support you from abaove and spot targets. Are we clear?" He shouted through the noise.
"Crystal." T'ko replied, unsheathing his Kinto blades by flicking his wrists out.
Kirek threw the flashbang over his shoulder and into the middle of the room below. A blinding flash and deafening noise erupted from the small device into the pentagonal room, causing a brief ceasefire. T'ko leapt over the desk he was hiding in and jumped onto two unsuspecting Finger of Cathorn Terrorist, impaling both as he came down and effectively breaking his landing. Kirek meanwhile pushed over his desk and placed it along the thin metal wall of the overlook, reinforcing it. Kirek peeked his gun out, fired a few shot, then peeked his head over. There was a hornet's nest of activity. Kirek did a quick count and guessed there was about thirty or forty Terrorist, with thirteen coming towards T'ko from three cubicle lanes.
Kirek shouted down from the overlook, "Okay Teak! You have three ways to get by. There are seven coming down the middle, four from the right, and two to the left. Recommend the path of least resistance."
T'Ko gave Kirek a thumbs up and darted forward. Now Kirek didn't know whether T'ko couldn't hear him or T'ko liked the challenge but T'ko charged head on through the middle lanes, slashing and shooting down everyone in his path. Kirek sighed and resumed covering fire on the two lanes to either side. Kirek first aimed his sight at the squad coming from the right. He fired five shots; four to take all four down, and a fifth for safety. He turned his attention and his rifle at the two Terrorists coming from the left. Kirek used his Ragnasil power to toss the front Terrorist from the leg into the air then fired a round from his assault rifle. The round traveled through the air, penetrated the terrorist in the air through the chest an out, then nailed the second terrorist in the head. Kirek looked back up from the scope, a grin of satisfaction on his face
T'Ko had just finished his charge up the center lane and took a brief moment to look proudly at the path of destruction he made. There were five dead Terrorist lying on the ground and the other two had keeled over but were still holding onto life. T'ko turned his head back around and barely had enough time to react to what he saw in front of him.
An ogre-like Cader stood in front of him several yards away, clad in heavy plate armor and carrying MG-174 chaingun, a gun usually found on the bottom of a combat hoverplane. Worst of all, he was standing in the way between T'Ko and the elevator to the top of the tower. "You now face the might of da MAELSTROM!" The cader laughed and open fired on T'ko.
T'Ko dove to left as a storm of rounds flew past him. When he hit the floor, T'Ko flattened himself as much as he could. Another volley of rounds shot past just over Teacko's head"KIREK!" T'Ko screamed as loud as he could.
"I see him." Kirek replied quietly to himself. He knew his voice could't beat the heavy noise of gunfire in the room. He fired several shots at the cader, but the cader shrugged it off like nothing happened, keeping his focus on shredding T'ko to bits.
Now what Kirek didn't see was a serbantis holding a grenade launcher who had set his sights on Kirek.
Kirek was busy reloading when he saw the flash from the grenade launcher. "Oh crap!" he yelled. With lightning reflex's he managed to use his ragnasil to catch the grenade in mid-air, orbit it around his body and send it back.
The grenade soared threw the air, landing in the machine gun-toting cader's mouth. " No'ting can hide from da Maelstrom! I vill hunt hue like da...HMMMPH!?" The cader gave one last laugh before the grenade detonated and blew away the Terrorist guarding the elevator.
T'ko got up off the floor after the ceasefire and checked his surroundings. Just inches above his head, hundreds of bullet holes penetrated the thick, plastic walls of the cubicle he had hid inside. T'ko combed through the back of his hair and felt a snag. He pulled out a bullet, still warm to the touch. "Whoa," was all T'ko had to say.
T'ko then ventured out of the small space, at the same time Kirek leapt down from the overlook, shaking his hand to cool off his hand. T'ko looked down the way towards the elevator and noticed the large black ring from the blast and the numerous casualties from it.
"How the heck did you pull that off?" T'Ko asked
"Dumb luck, I guess. Let's try to get our head back in the game for right now. The whole operation is depending on us. From here, all we have to do is eliminate some bodyguards, arrest the leaders and the Commander, and head back to Trapatho Base." Kirek instructed, then pressed the "Up" elevator button
After waiting a half minute, Kirek pressed the button repeatedly in frustrated. T.ko looked up at the diagram showing where the elevator currently was. "Looks like its stuck on the Eighty-second floor...the Central Security Office." T'ko said, his voice trailing as a voice came from the intercom.
"Thank you T'ko. I'm glad one of you is using their brain. By the way Kirek, constantly pressing the button isn't going to make it come down." The voice said loudly
Both the rangers recognized the voice, "Markaus Zerraki? You're ALIVE!" Kirek said back, amazed.
"Forget that! He's also working for a radical terrorist group!" T'Ko said, also astonished.
"They prefer the title of "Liberators" and yes, Kirek, I am very much alive and I'm going to make sure you both suffer for your betrayal
"What betrayal? We worked as allies together the last time we met!" T'Ko chimed in.
"I remember you left me for dead when the Kyllisks horde made it through Thompath Station's defenses."
"We were given orders to evacuate the survivors. The kyllisks were too numorous. I even remember we offered if you were coming with us, but you declined" Kirek brought up
"I do not remember this offer, nor do I believe you. They overran us and forced us back. I only lost two men before making back to safety but many of my unit had become infected from wounds, and we had to purge them. I personally had to kill my second in command. You left us for dead."
"I'm sorry to hear but we were left to-" Kirek started to make a point but was cut off.
"Saying your sorry isn't going to fix what you've done to my life. You have been a prick in my side for far too long and have caused my company a large loss in profit. Thanks to a tip downstairs, I have ordered all the troops in the Citadel not already fighting your aerines downstairs to eliminate you. You can't go any further and you can't go back. You shall die, but by all means, try to make it entertaining. I'll even shut off the cameras, give you some privacy. I do love surprises." Markaus then ended the message and turned off the intercom.
"Arrogant Bastard." T'ko remarked.
"That he may be, but we have a much bigger problem to worry about." Kirek said, then scanned the room looking for a quick idea.
"Y'know how much you wanna bet that the tip came from that guy you spared. You should have-"
"Yes, T'ko, I know I should have killed him. I thought he might show some gratitude but...wait I have an idea. Go ahead and build a bunker using the cubicle walls and whatever else you can find around directly in front of the elevator." Kirek ordered.
While T'ko was busy taking apart cubicles for the bunker, Kirek was mediating, trying to make his mind blank. Usually he would only focus for a second to use his powers properly, but to use them on large scale required much longer, sometimes up to minute. When his mind was finally blank, he concentrated his powers on the cubicles in front of him. He raised the cubicles from off the floor and then assembled them around in his mind, creating one long path from the double doors to the elevator. He then gently lowered them into place, creating a funnel; the side from the double doors being the narrowest and widening out from there.
Kirek turned around, to see how much T'ko had progressed with the bunker building. T'ko had simply stacked the cubicle walls on their side, forming a sloppy but thick walled bucker, with a small open gunport out towards the funnel. For someone who prided himself on his engineering skills, Kirek was disappointed in T'ko's work but otherwise unsurprised.
"Good job." Kirek complimented
"Yeah, you didn't do too shabby yourself." T'ko complimented back, "So what's your plan here? Are you planning on us holding off hundreds, maybe thousands of Terrorists, 'cause that sounds suicidal too me."
"No 'we' aren't. I'm going to hold them off. You are nimble enough to go through that ventilation grate on the ceiling up there and hopefully infiltrate the CSO, and unlock the elevator controls." Kirek instructed, pointing to the ventilation just thirty feet above their heads. T'Ko gave Kirek a worried look. "Look, if I don't make it, please-"
"Save it. This mission is relying on us. 'Phoenixes Never Die' remember?" T'ko said, repeating Phoenix Team's motto
"Glad to hear it. Remember to tell Markaus I give my regards. You ready?" Kirek asked
"Yep. Fire away." T'ko confined, stiffening his body.
Kirek concentrated, then focused his energy on T'Ko's body. T'ko jumped slightly as the Ragnasil energy surged through his body.
"Man! That is a feeling you never get used to." T'ko commented. It was a strange feeling because Ragnasil works through hard, solid objects, in his case, T'ko's skeleton. To him, it felt like two hands had slipped through his coat and skin and was gripping onto his spine. Kirek began to slowly lift T'ko off the ground, but T'ko shifted uncomfortably. "Can to get me by the shoulder blade?" T'Ko asked.
"Of course." Kirek apologized and altered his hand position. T'ko let out a relieving sigh, feeling a little bit more comfortable as he was being hoisted to the ceiling.
Voices echoed down the hallway outside the room, growing louder as they came closer.
"Hurry!" Kirek yelled to T'ko, who was busy cutting the grate. Suddenly, a small group of Terrorist stormed though the doorway and opened fire on the two rangers, with two-thirds of the shots being fired at Kirek, who was still holding T'ko up. Kirek looked up to see T'ko gesturing to let go. Kirek nodded his head and corresponded. T'ko jammed one of his Kinto blades into the thin sheet-metal to keep him from falling. He then pulled his submachine gun out of its holster, and laid down covering fire so Kirek could get back to the bunker. The tactic worked to an extent, because now the group focused ALL their fire on the black felic dangling from the ventilation duct. Bullets whizzed by T'ko and he winced as three impacted his armored vest. Seeing that Kirek had grabbed the chain gun and made it into the bunker, T'ko got out of the action and began his ascent through the ventilation duct.
Once he got into the makeshift bunker, Kirek dove to the floor as rounds flew above his head. He crawled towards gunport, pushed the Chain gun through it, and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, indicating that it was out of ammo. Kirek cursed and crawled back to fetch the ammo pack from the cader's corpse. He darted out of bunker, fired a few shots to suppress the Terrorist, then grabbed the pack and ran back into the bunker. As he pulled the ammobelt out of the pack and loaded it into the chain gun, he started to breath heavily to relieve stress and keeps his head mentally clear. Battle stress can lead to many psychological disorders. Finally, he had finished loading the gun. He wiped his brow, pulled back the hammer, and squeezed the trigger right as the Terrorist started to charge forward.
This time when he pulled the trigger, it did exactly what the chain gun was intended to do. Everyone within the funnel was either dead or near death with their last breaths. Kirek placed the sight on the doorway. Anyone crossing it would be shot without a seconds notice. He fired a spray of warning fire.
For almost a minute, there was complete silence. He kept his eyes trained on the front door. he didn't like silence. Silence meant plotting, and that meant they were planning on something other than charging in mindlessly. That made Kirek's job a lot harder and more dangerous.
Finally the double doors opened as a dozen Terrorists charged forward. Kirek mowed them down in a matter of seconds. Suddenly, rounds started to rain down from the bunker's plastic ceiling. Kirek looked out to the side of the gunport to see a group of Terrorists spraying at the bunker from the overlook. Kirek jolted back inside and aimed the chaingun at the overlook, but by that time, the squad had taken cover and he was unsure if he had hit any of them
The voice of what Kirek guess was the captain of the Terrorist was heard just outside of the room through the doorway, shouting, "This is our opportunity! Charge 'im while he's distracted!" A large mass of Terrorists charged ahead, guns blazing. The salvo tore away at the thick plastic wall, some rounds even making it all the way through. Kirek swept the chaingun back towards the funnel, taking down the rest just before reaching his bunker. Just as soon as he did this, the squad on the overlook popped out their heads and continued where they left off. Kirek again aimed the chaingun at the overlook, but seeing in the corner of his eye another mass of Terrorist starting to charge forward again. Kirek was starting to notice a pattern.
The pattern went on form just over four minutes before Kirek just could not take it any longer. It wasn't because he felt like he was in great danger but because of the constant feeling of being under fire was annoying him greatly. Which ever way turned the chaingun, the Finger Terrorist countered it. If he didn't react to one, he would die, but once he did react, the Milita would just change up their tactics again. It was a catch-22, in the loosest form.
Kirek did find one thing interesting; The Finger Terrorists' dedication to their cause. He must have killed one hundred Terrorists, but they kept coming, fully knowing it would be suicide. They seemed to work as one person instead of hundreds of individuals, willing to sacrifice themselves for whatever duty called them to do. Kirek took a mental note of this for his mission debriefing. Right now, however, he had to survive.
Kirek waited until he was forced to bring the chain gun back to facing the funnel to act on his friend. With one hand on the trigger, he pulled a rubber band out of his sleeve pocket, and wrapped it around the trigger, keeping constant fire on the funnel. With his hands free, he took four grenades from his belt bandolier and placed two in each hand. He had noticed when he leapt down from it, that the overlook had two support beams that held it up. That was Kirek's target.
Kirek took a second to concentrate, visualizing the location of the beams, then pulled the pins and used a ragnasil blast to shoot the grenades over the cubicles and hoped they would land underneath the overlook, with a grenade to either side of a beam. The combined force would certainly take the overlook down. Kirek clasped his ears as the two explosions erupted through the room.
Papers and dust was drifting through the air when Kirek opened his eyes. He was at first shocked to see the structure still standing, thinking the grenades hadn't been enough. His expression shifted from disappointment and to joy, as Kirek as he heard the creak of brittle metal and watch as the overlook toppled down through the floor, falling several floors down. The whole building began to rumble. Kirek looked back at the doorway and took a deep, relieving breath. Now he just had to focus on one target. He took the rubber band off the trigger and kept his eyes forward. He just hoped T'ko would hurry up and unlock the elevator.


T'ko inched his way up the narrow ventilation. Every now and then, he shoved one of his blades into the ventilation horizontally so he could check his wrist tablet and take a quick breather. When he finished, he put all his weight on his back and feet, sheath the blade, and scooted himself up the shaft, one foot at a time. He was relieved to find he had reached the horizontal part of the ventilation system and would no longer be at the mercy of physics to keep him up. T'ko took a backward leap of faith and grasped the ledge of the next path. From here, he only had a six meter high climb and he would be over the Central Security Office.
T'ko had always preferred stealth when it comes to strategy, so he had a slight distaste with the air duct approach; It was nearly impossible to infiltrate a building using the ventilation stealthily. Every step he took made a thunderous clang that echoed in all directions. Going slowly and lightly didn't work either; it made him just as loud and twice as slow. It was like having sirens attached to his feet. With Central Security possibly being the most heavily guarded facility in Skyrest Citadel, T'ko was fairly certain he was going to be heard, if he hadn't been heard already. Despite the dilemma, T'ko had several tricks to make the clanging work in his favor.
He kept pushing on, noise and all. If he didn't unlock the elevator, not only would this whole operation be wasted, but T'ko's best friend and partner would be killed. T'ko wasn't going to let that happen.
As T'ko rumbled his way to the next shaft, he took a second to prepare himself. As he got closer, he started to hear a conversation right through the thin metal wall.
"...the most boring job of the century of the century! The Feds are never going to make it up here. Captain Zerraki even locked down the elevator and ordered all the Fingers of Cathorn guys to kill those two guys downstairs. Why are we still patrolling?" One voice whined
"Its procedure. We can't be too carefully. The Coalition already go into the building under lockdown. They could always still get in. We're here to respond in case that happens." Said the other voice. It appeared they were the only ones behind that wall.
"Okay, fine. Then why are we 'guarding' this dead end hallway. They aren't going to 'insert' themselves through this wall"
"I guess because this hallway leads directly to the main hall.. If I were you, I wouldn't question the sarge's orders."
T'Ko tried not to laugh at the two guys bickering like an old mating couple. He was about to start his ascent when he caught a glimmer in the lowlight. He felt around his neck and realized his necklace, the only item he had from his parents, was gone. That necklace was top priority to him; Necklace, saving Kirek, capture leaders of Finger Terrorist, in that order. He tried to be as subtle as possible crawling on the ground to reach for the necklace.
"The sergeant is an idiot. he told us to just stare at this stupid wall, like its going to turn into some monster if we turn-" The first one complained, but was cut off my the other.
"There it is again! Tell me you heard that! There is something behind that wall!"
"I don't hear anything. You're crazy."
"Maybe if you shut up you would hear it. Listen!"
T'ko froze his position, just grasping onto the necklace. He then pulled himself up by the back, but lost balance and slammed into the metal ventilation.
"Oh, wow! What the hell is that!" the other yelled, his voice a mix between surprise and terror.
This is where T'Ko's plan came in. T'ko had a wide knowledge of different animals from across the galaxy and had the ability to imitate many of their sounds. One of those animals was a dreto, a large rodent species native to Roocafen known for being great climbers and stowaways on starships. The mercenaries wouldn't think twice about him climbing through the ventilation if they thought he was dreto. He started making a dreto call when a third person entered the conversation on the other side of the wall.
"I thought I told ya two cakwads to keep guard here, not be gibber jabbing about the air conditioning!" the third voice, the sergeant, ordered.
T'ko could tell the sergeant was from a backwater part of the galaxy. With now a better time than ever, T'ko decided to start his ascent
"Sorry sir, but there something down there, rattling around." Said the second voice.
"Sounds like a big dreto stuck in the vents again. I think my trusty shotgun should do the job." the sergeant said.
"Shotgun? Oh crap!" Teacko said to himself. He would have to double time up the shaft.
"ITS MOVING! Kill it, kill it!" the first voice cried
"Sir, wouldn't it be easier to just purge the ventilation system and kill it that way" the second voice reasoned with the sergeant
"Yes but that wouldn't be any fun now would it?" The sergeant replied, cocked the shotgun and fired on the wall.
T'ko tensed up. About a foot below him, the shotgun had blown a hole in the ventilation.
"Great shot, sir!" the second voice praised.
"Yes it was! But the damn rodent ain't dead yet!" The Sergeant said annoyed and cocked the shotgun again.
T'ko started sprint-climbing the shaft as shotgun rounds ripped through the sheet metal below him. "OHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAP!" he kept crying in his head, which actually helped paced his movements up the shaft. Finally, he reached the top of shaft and pulled himself up onto the horizontal part. He started to crouch sprint when a shotgun blast burst through the ventilation in front of him. T'Ko froze.
"Got 'im!" The sergeant cheered. He turned back at the other two mercenaries. "Thank goodness I was here, or I'd bet ya two woulda wet yerselves. That's why I sent you two to guard here; In case this stuff happens!"
"In case a droto is in the air vents?" The first voice asked sarcastically.
"No, dumb ass. What if that droto was trained by the Coalition to come up here or had a patch of explosives attach to it? You two would have been unprepared!" The sergeant said confidently. What He didn't notice was T'ko jumping down from the hole and landing silently behind him.
"SIR!" The two others, both kayans, said in unison, pointing behind the sergeant.
"What!" The Sergeant shouted as he turned his head to see what was behind him.
T'ko wasted no time grabbing the sergeant's head and turning it ninty degrees to break the neck. T'ko looked at the two kayans, too petrified to respond to the felic intruder. T'ko casually saluted the two of them. "Baka Tri'mingo" he said in Felucian. Then, in the blink of an eye, he swung out his two custom "Hand Cannons" and shot the two mercenaries in their heads.
T'ko put his left hand cannon back in its sheath and placed his back against a wall as he heard more movement coming from the hallway to his left. He estimated it would take seven seconds for the footsteps to reach him, so he began to count. When he counted to eight, he swung a left hook through the door, nailing a mercenary in the jugular with the barrel of the hand cannon. Another mercenary ran through the door and rammed T'ko into the wall behind him. The mercenary press his left hand on T'Ko's right wrist, preventing him from shooting. With the other hand, the mercenary began pounding T'ko's stomach. T'ko took two good hits before regaining the mental prowess to control left arm. He wouldn't have enough leverage to use his Kinto blade, so instead T'ko drew his left hand cannon and squeezed off two shots into the mercenary's stomach. Mercenary dropped to the floor, but T'ko could see there was a large team of mercenaries running down the hallway in front of him. With both arms free, T'ko was ready take them full on.
Thanks to T'ko's natural ambidexterity, he could take full advantage of the power and accuracy of the rifle-caliber rounds inside the two hand cannons while duel-wielding. T'ko walked steadily forward, bullets whizzing by his head, as he kept constant fire on the mercenary squad. Soon, the first squad fell, but a second had taken their place. T'ko killed two of the second squad, but then ran out of ammo in both guns. With the flick of his wrists, he dropped the empty cartridges out of the guns then threw both guns into the air. T'ko then grabbed two full cartridges from his his two side pockets of his pants, then threw them into the air as well. The smooth cartridges slid slickly into the bottom of each hand cannon. T'ko rolled forward and caught the two guns in midair. With a sly grin on his face, he continued where he left off. After taking down the last mercenary out of the group, T'ko reloaded his hand cannons again and moved around the corner to the next hallway. T'ko froze. In front of him was a squad of thirteen mercenaries, blocking the short hallway at the end, where it met the main hall of the Central Security Office. All of them had their guns aimed at T'ko, and two were carrying machine-guns. T'ko took a deep breath and executed his next move.
T'ko ran back around the corner as hundreds of rounds filled the hallway. He kept running until he was in the middle of the first hallway, then swung around. He ran back down the hallway at full speed. One of the mercenaries decided to give chase to T'ko and T'ko slashed him on the way back. When T'ko reached the corner of the shorter hallway, he leapt over to the other wall, and using the momentum he had already accumulated, started to run on the wall, firing at the astonished mercenaries. As the mercenaries started to aim at T'ko, he got off the wall and fell on his knees, sliding forward.
By the time he had stopped sliding on his knees, all of the mercenaries had been slain. T'ko got up from the ground and looked down the main hallway. It was very big, nearly thirty feet wide and had sterile white walls. It was also loaded with mercenaries and Terrorists, nearly fifty from what T'ko could estimate. T'ko leaned back for cover as rounds hit the wall and looked down the other side. Like a oasis in the middle of a desert, a security checkpoint stood in the middle of of the hallway. T'ko took the risk and sprinted it, firing down the hallway. To T'ko's surprise, it was unlocked. T'ko opened the door, went in, slammed it shut, and locked it.
Inside the security checkpoint, T'ko would be safe. It was designed to help keep the security guards inside safe, with bulletproof windows in the front and a heavy metal door in the back. It was a three roomed structure, with the room where the security guards would sit and watch the people coming in and out of the elevator, then had a small bathroom and a tiny closet. T'ko opened up the closet to find a small armory.
To his disappointment, the armory only had shotguns and handguns. T'ko would need a machine-gun to take the amount of enemies outside full on. T'ko sat down on the floor, downtrodden. He had to think of something to get through. The constant ting-tanging rounds hitting the metal door wasn't helping him think either. Then, suddenly, the floor began to shake violently. T'ko braced the wall for stability. The last thing T'ko saw was a filing cabinet across from him topple over on his head.


Kirek kept his finger on the trigger as he continued to mow down wave upon wave of Terrorists running at him from the doorway. With his nerves calmed from the destruction of the Overlook just moments before, Kirek was in sort of a relaxed mood firing down the funnel. Still, Kirek couldn't help but be fascinated by the persistence of the Terrorists.
Kirek had fought the Fingers of Cathorn on five occasions before today, with Carnifuge far dwarfing the other four. During all those fights, He and T'ko had faced challenges, not in overall combat, but in their cunning in their fights. He remember specifically stories on Carnifuge of the Finger Terrorist coming out of no where in the jungle, taking out entire companies and convoys, then rushing back without suffering a single casualty. The men he had fought had experience in guerilla warfare, many being former pirates, rebels and veterans of conflicts against the Federation. He had guess the average ages of the Terrorist he had fought there to be twenty-five to thirty-five, around the age of most officers and squad leaders in the Coalition. The Terrorist he was fighting today were different. They seemed to lack tactical instincts and maturity, going head on into machine gun fire because their captain told them too. This troubled Kirek greatly. He realized he wasn't fighting devoted soldiers of a cause. He was fighting indoctrinated young men, taught to give their lives to endure victory. Indoctrination was a long process, taking roughly ten years to firmly plant the seeds of corruption, which meant the Fingers of Cathorn had been around or at least been plotted out for a long time. In Kirek's book, they were innocent, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to tear them down as they charged at him.
Suddenly, the chaingun clicked and stopped shooting. Kirek's blood ran cold. He was out of ammo.
From the opposite end of the funnel, Kirek heard the captain of the Terrorist give his orders. "He's done! Avenge your brothers and sisters! Kill the Fed before he can reload!"
They didn't have to worry about Kirek reloading. He was entirely out of ammo. Now, Kirek did have to worry. He pushed the chaingun out of the way of the gunport, pulled his assault rifle off his back and began to fire down range, nailing every Terrorist that came barreling down the funnel. However, Kirek knew he wasn't going to be able to hold back for long. He remembered when he was on the Overlook that there was over a hundred individual cubicles forming a labyrinth on the lop-sided part of pentagonal office. He could evade the Terrorist there until T'ko unlocked the elevator. He just had to buy the time to get there and hide.
Kirek took a flashbang off his body armor and threw it into the doorway. It detonated, disorienting the miltiamen on the otherside of the funnel. Kirek concentrated hard, removing all sound and distraction from his mind and focus his energy on the funeel itself. After three seconds, he unleashed a wave of Ragnasil blasting apart the funnel and sending it in front of the doorway, creating a mound of debris that blocked it. It would take a while for the militamen to dig through it, giving Kirek all the time he needed.
Kirek wandered through the labyrinth, setting up tricks and traps to deter the Terrorist forces that would search for him. He knew after using up almost all his grenades, he ran around a corner and hid under a desk in a cubicle where they would have to be looking directly into it to find him. He sat and waited.
A minute later, the Terrorist finally got through the debris blockage and began to scour he maze. They were clearly more nervous and less numerous, as Kirek heard the captain of the Terrorist do a headcount of thirty individuals with the other dealing with the force of aeries working their way up the Citadel. Kirek was nervous too, but he could control it.
"Watch your corners!" "Sweep him out" "Remember, he's just one man!" were a few of the several orders the Terrorist captain used to encourage his men. He was frightened as well.
Any morale that the captain had given to his men was immediately lost when they stumbled upon something on a wall. "S-sir I fa-found something, sir!" Said one of the Terrorist. A group crowded around the him, to see a message scrawled in blood "Do you dare hunt the hunter?"
Kirek laughed inside his head. Kirek knew then second best thing to a physical weapon was a psychological weapon. He looked at his bloodstained fingers on his right hand, admiring his plan. Many would judge such an act as being uncivilized and lowering himself below the Fingers of Cathorn. Kirek knew many of those same people, the same kind that would say diplomacy is the prime weapon of war, would die on their knees without a fight. Kirek thought different. If he was going to survive, Kirek had to takedown every single advantage the Finger Terrorist had over him. It also wasn't like he was using the blood of their corpses. He used the blood from his and T'ko's blood transfusions packs he had in his pack in case either one needed them. Just because they were his enemy didn't mean they shouldn't be respected in their death.
He listened as the crowd dispersed and went on with their search. A minute later, another Terrorist found a bloody message on a wall. He read it out loud, "We have taken the city and soon the Tower. Surrender now."
"Don't listen to 'im, soldiers! He's only playing games with your head! The Federation shall fall! It is in our destiny!" The captain rallied.
Just then, an explosion went off, followed by a blood curtailing screams. A group of Terrorist must have sprung Kirek's grenade tripwire. He could hear the captain of the Terrorist curse and yell at his men, ordering them to search every corner and cubby. Paranoia was spreading, just as Kirek wanted.
Kirek remained motionless, listening intently to his surroundings. the constant noise and confusion from the Terrorist made this very hard, but Kirek closed his eyes to increase his sense of hearing. He heard footsteps coming around the corner and closer to his position. He tensed up and held his gun tightly, aiming at the opening to the cubicle. Then the Terrorist emerged, but luckily with his back facing away from cubicle, so he didn't see the lone kayan hiding underneath the desk. Kirek took this to his advantage, getting up with ought the slightest noise and removed the rifle's bayonet knife. Then, quick and precise, he shoved the knife into the back of the Terrorist's neck and severed the spinal column.
As the body went limp, he put the body into the cubicle, placing him into a office chair. He would serve as another psychological deterrent.
Kirek had to find another place to hide while evading the patrols out to find him. He had gone down two lanes without running into any Terrorists, but then heard two sets of footsteps coming down the third. Kirek doubled back, but stopped cold when he saw a pair of Felic ears over a cubicle coming at him from the other direction. He was trapped between two patrols, no other way out. Kirek turned around and went to intercept the two Terrorist coming down in front of him. He hugged the wall and stopped at the corner of the lane. He counted in his head as the footsteps grew louder. Finally, right before the Terrorists turned the corner, Kirek lunged at them, stabbing the trachea of the first one then stabbed upward through the second's ribcage. Both screamed before meeting their fates, but their cries were deafened by another explosion from one of Kirek's grenade trip wires.
With everyone focused on the explosion, Kirek took the opportunity to set up another trap. Above him, parallel to the lane, was a long, fluorescent light fixture. He dipped his hand into the blood pack and wrote two word on the wall, then shot a Meta-5 plastique explosive up into the light fixture, where it stuck just above the bulb. He then crept off silently and found another cubicle to hide in.
Several minutes past, each feeling like hours. Something as wrong. It had been more than fifteen minutes since he last saw T'ko and he should have unlocked the elevator by now. Still, Kirek kept his patience. T'ko was facing the most heavily guarded facility and was probably on his way back from the command center within the Central Security Office. He perked his ears upon hearing a sudden commotion from the Terrorist. They had found his last message. He could hear the captain's voice over the rest of his men.
"Let me through!" He ordered, "Someone tell me what it is this time."
"Sir, he killed Tomas and Requil an...and wrote other message" One of the Terrorist stammered.
The captain pushed his way in front of the crowd, and read the message, " Look Up." The captain did as it read, "There is nothing up there!" he shouted out loud.
"Wrong again." Kirek whispered to himself and pulled the detonation trigger on the Meta-5 launcher. It sent out a low frequency radio signal which triggered the detonator attached to the plastique putty. The relatively tiny explosion shattered the fluorescent glass, sending razor sharp shards raining down on the crowd below. Three shards imbedded themselves into the captain's eyes. Another set were actually able to pierce the skull of one of the Terrorist, killing him. All in all, this final trap sent the whole floor into chaos.
The now blinded captain struggled to get off the ground. It took two of his men to support him as he tried to walk.
"Sir, the men are scattering! You need to rally them." One of his supports spoke up.
"Let them go. They are cowards to Cathorn's cause. After we cast the Federation out of the city, we will gather and execute every single one of them." The captain said, agony in is voice, then he ordered out loud, "The rest of you, his game of hide and seek has gone on long enough. Tear down everything you see!."
At that moment, gunfire opened up throughout the large room. Kirek took a deep gulp, rethinking everything he had done within the past minutes. This was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to cause enough confusion that the majority of the miltia forces would retreat back, not have them fire blindly into everything they saw. Sooner or later, they were going to find him. Kirek came to reality. He knew T'ko was dead and that the mission had become a failure. Kirek sighed, knowing there was no turning back, but he wasn't going down without a fight. He began to meditate deeply, focusing his every thought and charging his energy. When the Terrorist would finally find him, they were in for a big surprise.


The mercenaries finished taking everything off from T'ko's limp body, excluding his pants and shirt. Markaus Zerraki stared at him, a bit of disappointment in his eyes. Her looked back at the mercenaries. "Wake him up." He ordered.
"Yes sir." Said the one of the mercenaries, picking up a bucket of ice cold water and dumped it on over the felic's head.
T'ko woke up immediately. "Ahhhhhuhuhuhuhuh!" He groaned as cold water soaked him to the bone. His eyes darted around the room, as he tried to figure out where he was and why he was suddenly wet. It took only a few seconds for him to realize he was inside of Central Security Command and that directly in front of him stood Markaus, the notorious mercenary. He also realize other things as well, like he had been stripped of his items, his hands were tied together by thick rope and he was kneeling on the floor, and there were eight other mercenaries in two rows of four with their guns aimed at him. "Ah, crap." T'ko muttered
"Happy to see me?" Markaus asked amused in himself.
"Don't charm yourself." T'ko spat back.
"Yes, well, imagine my surprise to see you up here. I admit, you did catch me off guard, using the the ventilation to crawl up here, but ultimately it proved futile. Not even the great T'Ko Ash'eon ' Nero'coo could defeat my men."
"What the hell are you talking about! I must have killed twenty or thirty of your men!"
Markaus sighed. "Those were new hires..."
"Yeah, they did seem a little less skilled then what I expected. Still, your men didn't take me down at all. The building shook and toppled a filing cabinet on me."
"Ahh, but do you why it shook?" Markaus asked, a sly grin his face.
"No, but let me guess: Your mercs had something to do it." T'ko said half-interested.
"Not at all. My crew did break down the door and hauled your ass, but they did not cause the explosion. In fact, it was you partner. You see, he blew up the security platform in the accounting office, which caused it to crumble through the floors below and rumble the top of the building. I got quite a complaint from upstairs. So if you think about it, you were captured because of your friend. What a pal, eh?"
"It's not like he did on purpose to help you. Heck if you think about it, Kirek is better at taking me down than your mercs, and he did it indirectly.'' T'ko mocked
"As I said before, those were new hires, with very little experience in the field. You actually did me a favor since now I don't have to pay them. Now these eight men in front of you could more than take you down alone. They are also the eight survivors of my company from Thompath Station, the same ones that you left for dead. Since then, they've been training every single day to out shoot and out fight anyone from the Strategic Assault Ranger Group. They wish you dead just much as I do."
T'ko took a closer look at each mercenary. The farthest four each wore combat shades and carried modified assault rifles. The next two wore baklavas and held sub machines guns. The final two, which were exactly to T'ko's right and left, he could only see with the corner of his eyes. Although he couldn't get a view of their head, he did identify one thing they both had; his hand cannons, which were only about a inch from touching both his ears. This annoyed T'ko greatly, but he had to keep his cool. What he did notice was each of the mercenaries were staring at Markaus instead of T'ko. Markaus himself was facing him but every now and then took glances at the large monitors behind him. He grinned mentally in his head. He found his opportunity to turn the tables on his captors.
"Really? Do you really blame me and Kirek falling back for your company's large casualties?" T'ko said. He then subtly reached down his back and took a raindrop shaped blade from a small pocket within the back of his pants. The blade had been used as a holdout weapon when Kirek and T'ko would go under deep cover and were checked for firearms and sharp weapons. Now it was T'ko's way to cut the rope that bound his hands.
"In a way, we do. I realize you were following orders, and we were giving you much needed time by holding the kyllisks off. I was expecting you to come back to help us get out to return the favor. You never did. I do not like being betrayed by my own employers."
T'ko felt a bit of remorse. Markaus's company was one of the first forces Kirek and him faced upon graduating from the Academy and from their first confrontation, he had always thought of Markaus as a greedy and arrogant mercenary. However, there were times when he could be an ally in the roughest times, even a friend. He even taught T'ko and Kirek several martial arts that have saved both their lives multiple times. "I'm...I'm sorry to hear that. We thought you could handle-"
"Stop! I wasn't finished. When we did make it off the derelict and infested station, my crew here and I went back to the headquarters of Executive Combat Force, where I was promptly...laid off, having failed another contract, thanks entirely to you. Luckily, these eight men remained loyal, having been there personally. I created my own private military company, Zerraki Security Incorporated, which I had to fund with my own fortune, the same I had been saving to help my family live the high life. Even with the new company organized, we could barely get any contracts, thanks to the fact that you two had ruined my records and my former employers destroyed what was left of my reputation. We spent the first months protecting farmers from beats and bandits and working for petty criminal organizations. I was losing more money than I could make..."
By this time, T'ko had cut the rope binding his hands just enough that he could break free when he needed. However, he had become very enthralled by Markaus's story, even sympathetic to what happened to him. He only had one question to ask.
"But why would you accept a contract from a terrorist organization, like the Fingers of Cathron? Not even you are could lower yourself that low!" T'ko exclaimed.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures. They offered me contract I would be crazy to refuse, offering me millions in credits. Not to mention, that if I fulfilled this contract, they would spread my business and...force my former employers into early retirement."
"You actually think their going to keep their part of the agreement? It sounds far fetched to me."
"It has crossed my mind a few times today, especially when the Coalition arrived. However, I trust General Kobrana. He's an honorable man."
"HE'S KILLED THOUSANDS! HE CAUSED MILLIONS OF REFUGES ON CARNIFUGE! Does that sound honorable to you?" T'ko yelled at the top of his lungs, infuriated by Markaus's statement. The mercenary to his left backed T'ko in the back with his own handgun. T'ko hissed.
"If you were to meet the man, you would think different. Sadly, your not going to get the chance. I must fulfil my contract. Your going to die by your own weapons."
"Yeah, I kinda figure that out, but if I am to die, then how come I'm still alive?"
"I was hoping you would ask. Just because you are to be executed doesn't mean I don't want to make you suffer as much as possible. What better punishment than to see your own partner and friend die?"
"He's not going to die. He has a chaingun that is pinning the Terrorist back."
"He did, until he ran out of ammo. He was forced to flee into the office area. I will admit, he has done some impressive techniques. He used his ragnasil powers to block the one entrance and it appears as if he's using some traps to demoralized the Terrorist in the room. He's not going to last long though. He's out numbered forty to one and soon going to run out of rifle ammo.
A cold feeling shot down T'ko's spine. He had to act fast if he was going to save his friend's life. As luck would have it, the opportunity came almost immediately.
Markaus looked at the monitor. "It looks like the Terrorist found another one of his messages. Oh wow! He blew up the light fixture! That's brilliant!" Markau's back was now fully turned toward T'ko and the mercenaries were watch the scene on the monitor as well.
T'ko didn't waste a second performing his move. He ripped through the rope binding his hands and took two knives from the back of his pants. He shoved the two knives into the hips of the two mercenaries to his side, who dropped T'ko's hand cannons. He caught them in mid-air and executed the two mercenaries. he then executed each of the mercenaries in front of him in rapid succession, right as they were about to respond. Finally, T'ko crossed the two hand cannons in front of him, the pistol grips touching, as he took aim at Markaus. Markaus turned around, his eyes wide in surprise. T'ko fired and the two rounds ripped through the drygona's chest.
T'ko got up and walked up to Markaus's body. "I'm sorry it had to end this way, but I have a mission to complete." he said somberly, then looked at the monitor. The Terrorists were opening up on the cubicles. Surly, one was bound to find Kirek. T'ko ran to the controls and flipped the switch on the elevator power. He faced another dilemma, however. The hallway was being patrolled by mercenaries and Terrorist, who would kill T'ko on sight. This called for some improvisation.
T'ko walked over to the intercom on the control panel beneath the monitors. After facing Markaus several times before, he had created a pretty good impression of the Drygonian accent, mocking his voice with Kirek during downtime in missions. Now it would face the the ultimate test.
T'ko coughed to clear his throat and began to speak into the intercom. "Attention, compatriots! I am proud to announce that the two intruders have been neutralized and Skyrest has been secured for the most part. Now, with victory on the horizon, it is approaching noon. Please report to the cafeteria for lunch and further announcements. That is all." T'ko almost stopped there but deiced to add one last line to sell it. "Long live Cathorn!"
T'ko sighed and went over to fetch the rest of his belongings as he waited for the patrols to leave the hallway out side the room. Hopefully, his plan had worked and he wasn't too late to save his partner and best friend.


Kirek sat on the floor of the cubicle, mediating in total peace, despite the gunfire ripping through the cubicles around him. He was concentrating all his anger and rage into one single force. He was charging himself.
A round past through the wall Kirek was mediating in and was on track to going through his head. At the last possible second, Kirek sensed and caught the round in mid-air with his mind, flicked it out of the cubicle, and went back to his mediation.
The metallic twang of the round hitting the hard floor caught the attention of a nearby Terrorist, who went to investigate. He found the discarded round on the ground and turned, to find the snow-grey kayan sitting on the floor, legs crossed. He raised his rifle, ready to fire into him, thinking Kirek hadn't noticed him. He was dead wrong.
Kirek eyes opened wide, his regular winter blue eyes now resembling indigo fire. He was overcharged. Kirek flicked his wrist up, sending the Terrorist man up into the ceiling, then back down with a bone shattering thud. Kirek then stood up slowly up and walked out of the cubicle.
Being overcharged was Kirek's ultimate form when using his powers. Ragnaweir energy flowed through his body like water through a river, allowing him to be free in his powers. It did have a consequence, however. The Ragnaweir energy burned through his body rapidly, sapping every every bit of energy he had. Not only that but it heated up his body as well. If he held it for too long, he would go into severe heat stroke. It usually felt like he was on fire, but this time he was strangely soothed by the heat, maybe because he knew that this was his last fight he would ever participate in, his last stand. He was a ticking time bomb, and he was going to take ever last Terrorist on the floor with him.
Kirek walked forward down the lane of cubicles. A couple of Terrorists dashed towards Kirek to investigate what happened to the first Terrorist. They saw Kirek walking towards them, and they readied themselves to take him down. Kirek brought his arms back, pulling the two Terrorists towards him. He looked at them closely. Both were paralyzed with fear. "Hello, gents." Kirek greeted coldly. The two, Terrorist painfully turned their heads towards each other, terrified. Kirek flicked them back with tremendous force, their bodies toppling over the wall. Five more Terrorist appeared on the other side, ready to engage. Kirek lifted and catapulted them over his head, as if they were small . He quicken the pace of his stride, feeling his energy starting to drain.
As he went around the next corner, he found eleven Terrorist in firing squad position, five crouched in front and six standing in the back. They wasted no time opening fire on Kirek. Hundreds of bullets streamed out of their guns, ensuring the death of the kayan in front of them. Imagine their horror when the smoke cleared and they discovered Kirek still standing, a wicked smile on his face and the bullets suspended in mid air in front of him.
Kirek dropped the bullets, making a loud clanging that echoed in the large room. "My turn." He whispered.
Kirek sent out a violet ragnaweir band that wrapped around the waist of one of the Terrorist in the back then pulled him towards himself. When he came within two feet of him, Kirek gave a mighty kick, sending the Terrorist flying back, toppling his comrades like bowling pins. Before they could get back up, Kirek stomped the ground, suspending them in a strange field of weightlessness. Kirek took his rifle off his back and took aim at the easy prey, shooting each down. Kirek moved on, but now in a light run.
As he made his way, down his current lane, he saw the heads of three Terrorist running down the next lane to intercept him. With is rifle still in hand, he fired three shots and transfused them with some ragnaweir energy. The rounds flew straight across the lane, then curved around the corner and hit all three targets in the head.
Finally, Kirek made it to remains of his funnel he made just fifteen minutes earlier. The Terrorist captain was getting his eye bandaged when he saw Kirek emerge. "NO! Kill him!" He ordered to the six remaining Terrorists. The Terrorists followed order and started to engage. Kirek was way ahead of them. Kirek picked up a cubicle panel and shot it at the first Terrorist he saw. He then lifted a computer monitor and swung it around his head like a flail. He used it to take out the next three, with the third Terrorist's head being thick enough to break the monitor upon impact to his skull. He then lifted the next two up and smacked them into one another. Finally, Kirek tossed the captain back int the door, which appeared to break his spine. With all the Terrorist dead, Kirek fulfilled his mission. He took a deep breath and released his energy. Kirek toppled to the floor, on the verge of death himself.
What Kirek didn't expect were the two Terrorist kirek had smashed together to get right back up. First one got up shocked his head, helped his comrade up, then both walked up to Kirek. "The big bad kayan is all out of energy it seems. Lets make him suffer." Said one of them
Kirek lied on the floor, his eyes widening. Kirek struggled to move, but it was no use. He had no energy left to move.
One of the Terrorists kicked Kirek in the stomach. Kirek winced and tried to curl his back but the second guy kicked his spine. Kirek screamed at the top of his lungs.
"You killed my brother!" Said the first Terrorist, as he started to pound on Kirek's head.
"You dare challenged slaughtered hundreds of my brothers down this path!" Said the second, then kicked Kirek in the crotch. Kirek reacted by sending his head upwards, knocking the first one in the nose.
"GAH! He bwoke my noes!" he shouted
"Quit whining!" The second one said, then took out his handgun. "Its time for you to face your maker." He said.
The second one got up as well, standing next to his comrade,"ya, yoo gon ya die, bwinch!".
Right before the Terroristamn could fire, a ding rang behind the three of them, followed by a gunshot. Kirek watched as the Terrorist with the broken nose, rolled his eyes into his head, as a round emerged on the other side of his skull.
"What the hell!" The remaining Terrorist exclaimed, then flew back as a burst of rounds hit his chest.
"Kirek laid on the floor, extremely confused. Then it all came together as black felic emerged from behind.
"Kirek, are you all right?" T'ko asked urgently. He looked around the room. There was about two hundred bodies lying dead on the floor. "You did one heck of a job here." He remarked
"Thanks. Help me up." Kirek said weakly. Just as T'ko extended a hand, five shots whizzed past them both. Kirek turned his head to see the Terrorist captain firing his rifle from the hip. The loss of vision in his left eye severely affected his aim.
T'ko drew his hand cannon, but Kirek stopped him. Kirek's eyes lit back up and somehow found a last bit of energy. "Hodl on T'ko. He's mine."
Kirek got up on his own and lifted the Terrorist captain by two vertebrae in his neck. The captain struggled, feeling his neck like two hands gripped him. Kirek walked towards him, two of his fingers crossed over one another, each controlling a vertebrae. Kirek got in the captain's face and asked him one question. "Are you scared?"
The captain struggled to speak, "Y-y-yes!" He finally choked out the word.
"Good." Kirek said darkly then spread his two fingers, breaking the captain's neck. He dropped the limp body, then fell over himself.
"Kirek!" T'ko shouted and ran over to his body. Kirek was unconscious, but still breathing. T'ko touched Kirek's body, but winced once he did. Kirek's body was red hot. Despite this, T'ko knew he had to get Kirek into the elevator before more reinforcements arrived. T'ko bit his lip and started to haul Kirek's body the seemingly long distance to the elevator. He plopped Kirek's body on the floor of the elevator. T'ko was just about to press the button to go up, when he thought of something to help Kirek's condition.
T'ko went back into the decrepit office and took a full water jug from the water cooler. Upon reentering the elevator, he screwed off the top of the jug and poured it over Kirek, then pressed the top floor button to get the elevator going.
Steam sizzled off of Kirek's body upon contact and Kirek started to wake up and pant. "Ahhhh! you have no idea how good that feels!" Kirek said, very soothed. As he looked up at his partner, he found one thing unusually about his appearance. "Why are YOU wet?" he asked
"Umm...you know...when I was pouring it over you, I got some on me." T'ko lied, too embarrassed to say that he was capture and taken out by an inanimate object.
Kirek knew T'ko wasn't telling him something but he wasn't going to push the subject. So he asked something else. "What took you so long! I was nearly killed."
"Yeah, ditto to me as well. I got held up in the main hallway and it took me a while to fight my way through. Long story short, I unlocked the elevator controls and killed Markaus, once and for all."
"Well thats nice to hear. Now all we have to worry about the welcoming company once we get topside." Kirek said, a hint of worry in his voice.
"You have a plan?" T'ko asked.
"First tell me how long we have to be in hear."
"Well I counted six seconds per floor. That by one-hundred-and-fifty floors and it should take us about fourteen minutes in all. Awfully slow the an elevator to two-hundred-fifty story building, ehh?"
"Yeah I guess. Anyway, wake me in twelve minutes and I'll tell you my idea. Right now, I just want to rest and take in this Air conditioning."


From: Teacko <Teacko@ymail.com>
To: Jesse Miesen <Teacko@ymail.com>
Sent: Thursday, August 4, 2011 8:29 PM
Subject: chapter 4 final



Hello

Here is a quick summary of everything leading up to this chapter to catch everyone one up. Captain Kirek Bladin and Lt. T'ko Nero'coo are part of the elite Strategic Assault Ranger Group, who are tasked with taking on extremely dangerous missions. For their current mission, they sent to the planet Kortine to infiltrate the massive Skyrest tower, in the middle of the city New Warden, to capture the leaders of the terrorist group Fingers of Cathorn, who were responsible for infamous attacks on the planet Carnifuge. They generally kicked ass. That is all you need to know so far without buying my book.

Phoenix: Battle of New Warden
Chapter 5
Divide and Conquer


Tetin Jakere watched over the number of elite guards patrolling around the cubicles inside the Incarui Head Accounting Office. He was anxious. When he woke up today, he knew what the day would bring. It was going to be a great day for the Finger of Cathorn. With the leaders of the Fingers of Cathorn all together discussing what would be the next plan of attack and how to do it effectively, it was like a massive think-tank for the future of the galaxy. However, Tetin knew several things most of the leaders upstairs didn't know about. He knew about the Coalition's plot to send a strike force before the day had started, but didn't tell a soul besides those within the Circle of Trust. That was why he was so anxious. He was told the Federation strike force would be crushed, but he didn't expect a full blown invasion; not just infantry but tanks, APCs, and hoverplanes. The thousands of militia outside couldn't handle a force that size and he had received intel several minutes ago that a convoy had reached the base of Skyrest Citadel. Luckily, the twenty-second through the twenty-eighth floor were crammed with militiamen and the seventieth-seventh to eightieth floors had very skilled mercenaries. They would hold the Coalition's long enough until the time arose to when Cathorn would play his trump card. For him, today would be the start of his hold on the galaxy but to Tetin Jakere, it would be the start of him exacting revenge against the death of his father, the legendary Capcor Jakere.
Capcor Jakere was a sixteen year old Kayan farmhand who took up arms during the very middle of the Tri-Front War, exactly fifty-one years before today. For five years, the First Worlds were in the midst of a three-way war, mainly between the Kazertyrn Directorate , the will of Galvony Military, and the United Republics. As these three forces focused on tearing each other apart, the outer worlds, which were colonies and settlements not along major trade routes, suffered terribly economically and resource wise as trade came to a stand still. Millions died of starvation. As theses atrocities occurred, whispers of revolution spread though out the Outer Worlds, and later came to full blown cries and riots. After Capcor's younger sister died of malnutrition, he ran away from home and joined up with the Typerthan People's Army. Later, this group became funneled into a much larger organization, the Army of the Faceless.
The Army of the Faceless attacked in mass along the Mainline, striking hard at trade planets. This hit hard at many planetaries and star unions economically and the raids brought back food and supplies back to the raiders worlds. Then the Army of the Faceless met their victors; the combined might of the United Republics and their mutual allies, such as the Dygonian Kingdoms and the newly reestablished Kazertyrn Protectorate. Behind United Republics' strength and ingenuity, the went into the Mainline and forced the Army of the Faceless back in a grand campaign that only took two years to complete. One year later, the United Republics proposed the establishment of the the Galactic Alliance Coalition, a shared arms pact for the promotion and protection for Peace and stability throughout the galaxy and the Galactic Alliance Federation, a council in charge of the Coalition, trade, and solving cross-system disputations. They also assured that the Federation was merely defense program, and didn't have any powers over Planetaries or System Governments. Formally, it created a defensive perimeter around the first worlds and sent large amounts of troops along the mainline, securing trade interests.
The Galactic Alliance Coalition became a symbol of Victory throughout the Galaxy but Capcor knew the truth. He knew that the Galactic Alliance Coalition was the grand scheme of the imperialists; militarized police, a grand Army no one would be able to stand up against. That is why Capcor kept fighting. He joined several pirate groups starting at age twenty, becoming leader of the Teserruct Avenger at age twenty-two. Four years later, he found his mate-to-be, a servant to a rich, aristocratic family while raiding a star port on the planet of Escurage. They had their first child a year later, Tamas Jakere and their second another year later, Shokrin. Tetin was born nine years later, the baby of the family. After several years as the leader of the Tesurrect Avengers, he resigned the position to spend more time with his family, although he still took direct command over certain missions, even taking his sons on these missions so they could witness the power of liberation in action.
It was during one of these missions that Capcor suffered his greatest setback. While Capcor was demonstrating to then ten years old Tetin about proper tactics for a ship take over, by actually taking over a Star Freighter, things had gone tragic at home. During the night, a Felic Aerial Strike Team raided the Teserruct Avengers' Compound slaughtering everyone, including Tamas and Shokrin, who were defending their dead mother. When Capcor heard the terrible news, he fell to the ground, wept and ignited his inner rage at Galactic Alliance and the ancient blood hatred for the Felic race. The following three years saw a lot of change for Capcor and Tetin. Tetin was sent undercover to the Galactic Alliance Coalition Academy on Coragon, where he'd be both safe and be a mole in the Coalition. Meanwhile, Capcor spent a year two years, negotiating treaties and alliances between the many pirate, rebel and terrorist groups outside of Federal Space. Capcor began his masterwork.
Slowly, he had sent in small starships into Federal space, too inconspicuous to be checked for weaponry. Then he launched his attack, raiding the planet Soren's naval yards and stealing sixty percent of the star and airships kept there. As admiral of this fleet, he went on the attack, another grand campaign, but this time in the first worlds, bombing the planets and then moving to the next target before a coalition fleet could respond. However, his hubris got the better of him at Tricarn. There he spent an unprecedented three days assaulting and bombing the planet, killing tens of thousands. Before bombing Tricarn's capital, Metrocarn, he was stopped by a coalition fleet led by the heroic Bladin twins. Through a fierce battle, the stolen fleet was destroyed and Capcor was captured.
Over the next year, he was convicted to death and put into a top secret Federation prison. He suffered two weeks, enduring the usual atrocities found in prisons. When he returned to his cell after a spending a week in the clinic from a fight he lost, he found a handwritten note addressed to him from a mysterious person known as Cathorn. Cathorn said he was personally inspired by Capcor's assault on the first world and had begun his own takeover plan, but on a much, much larger scale. He promised Capcor a large role in the plot if Capcor promised his allegiance and support to Cathorn's cause. Capcor couldn't refuse,and he signed that he agreed, hiding the note under his pillow where he found it not knowing any other means of responding. The next day, the message was gone, but he didn't receive any punishment. Capor knew it had reached the right hands.
Three long months past. Not once did Capcor lose hope. Then on a stormy morning, Sirens rang loud in the prison and armored guards lined the halls in defense. They were no match for the teams of soldiers that slaughtered them and broke Capcor out, along with hundreds others who had volunteered on the spot. Only on the shuttle ride did Capcor learn the extent of Cathorn's influence and power, or where the prison was located. He never knew he was on the Galactic Alliance seat of power, Koleb, in a heavily secured prison and that before the break in, a distraction fleet drew the Coalition forces away so the Break-out team would face little resistance. There was also another reason why Cathorn's force attacked Koleb. They assassinated the Director of the Galactic Alliance Federation, the charismatic and beloved Jasfer Kisplin during the strike. Capcor was very impressed.
After getting cleaned up and finally getting some good sleep, he had his first meeting with Cathorn himself, one of the very few ever to meet him. He was slightly taken back at first, surprised at who sat in front of him but after hearing Cathorn's multistep plan, he gave his full support. The plan was nearly flawless.
Cathorn tasked Capcor to help create a new revolutionary group, the "Fingers of Cathorn" as they would be called, as spread chaos throughout the galaxy and gather people and resources to help the cause. Capcor accepted the leadership position, and began his quest. He started by getting his son back from Coalition hands.
This task wasn't as hard as when Capcor broke free. Basically, he informed Tetin a week prior that he was going to get picked up and meet in the backwoods of Coragon with his belongings and get ready to move. The plan worked accordingly, and one week later, Capcor stood in front of his youngest son, now fourteen. He and Tetin spent the next week together. Tetin was glad to see his father, but he soon came to the realization that all his father cared about was vengeance against Galactic Alliance Federation. He would only asked Tetin about information of Coalition strategies, nown attack plans anfd secret locations of Coalition bases, all that were not talked about at the Academy. Frequently, Tetin tried to change the subject to himself and what he had learned and experienced but Capcor would always bring it back to getting information. Soon, their father-son relationship came to a flashpoint. Capcor became annoyed after not getting the information be wanted. He accused Tetin of being brainwashed by the Coalition,, which was far from the truth in Tetin's opinion' who still harbored a fierce hatred for the Coalition. tetoin however did not want to be part of Cathoirn's grand scheme and wanted to live life the way he wanted. Furious, Capcor casted him out, exiling Tetin to the Mobile Space Staton Sirga with a considerable amount of money. This was the last time Tetin ever saw his father.
Seventeen years past. Tetin had been working as a Private Security Consultant for fourteen years. He was mainly in charge for security for several Casinos in Velga City, which was a relatively easy jobs, with drunken, angry casino guests who had lost their savings gambling being his biggest worry. However, he had become overconfident in his abilities and made notable over sights that cost his employers millions. The only reason they kept him was due to the fact he attended the Academy, which was rare to find outside of Federation Space. He also was very proud of his father's accomplishments, which he made sure everyone knew, giving him a certain inherited reputation.
Then one day, Tetin received a message that someone was looking for him and wanted to meet him at a dive bar. He had a feeling it was his father. It wasnt't. The man that stood in front of him was ragged and wore a sling for his arm. He was a Kayan as well, and he guessed about forty years of age. He was shocked to find out he was twenty-nine, two years younger than Tetin himself. He introduced himself as Lieutenant Sorquin, and he was Capcor's second in command on Carnifuge.
Tetin had heard only a few things out of Carnifuge, but everything that did come out sounded good. A huge force of combatants had performed guerilla attacks on Carnifuge and kicked the Coalition's ass. He had no doubt his father's hand was part of it, returning the price to what had happened to his family.
Sorquin told him the long events of what had occurred on Carnifuge, the seven years of set up, how Capcor declined to be the head honcho of the operation, handing it over to someone named Kobrana, thus allowing Capcor to have a frontline role on Carnifuge, the successes in battle, then the bombshell: That Capcor had been killed. Sorquin explained that the Capcor's squad had responded to a missing convoy, and tracked it to wreckage along the road. They moved into the forest and soon were ambushed. Rapidly, the squad began to fall. Soon, only him and Capcor were still fighting. Sorquin then said that befoire he got shot and went out out, he discovered that it was only one person fighting them, a figure covered in shrubbery. He said that when he woke up, that Capcor was lying on the ground, bleeding out of multiple wounds. Sorquin crawled over to him, and Capcor said he always regretted being angry at his son and he wanted to tell his son that he loved him.
Tetin broke out in tears at the bar, emotionally strikened. Sorquin gave Tetin one last item, a finely sealed note. Tetin opened it. It was from Cathorn himself, giving his sympathies to Tetin for the loss of his father and promising Tetin a vengeance if he accepted a position with his forces.
Now Two years later, he stands on the observation deck on the top office floor of the Skyrest Citadel, as Head of Security. Today would be a day of reckoning.
Tetin's personal assistant and Body guard, Baxster Ky'lin, tapped him on the shoulder. Baxster was a large, muscular Felic of the Ger'Fron Clan, and a Veteran of Carnifuge. As part of one of several Clans that helped the Fingers of Cathorn in hiding and battle, he personally fought alongside Capcor Jakere and knew him well. He as glad to have the opportunity to watch over Capcor's son.
"Sir, Markaus Zerraki is here. He says he has a new development from the Coalition outside." Baxster said deeply.
"Well tell the damn Drygona to get his ass in here. We're not paying for him to stand around." Tetin yelled. He was focused on the room below him and making sure the room was secure.
"I already invited myself in." Markaus chirped from behind Tetin, giving Tetin a jolt. "I certainly hope you don't kiss your mother with that month."
Tetin darted his head around and his eyes narrowed at the light brown scaled Drygona. His breathing slowed and deepen and his whole body tensed up.
"Oh, sorry. Slip of the tongue."Markaus apologized insincerely. "Let's just get down to business. Five minutes ago, we discovered that the Secuity Command Center had been breached. We've lost roughly twenty minutes of proper intel. We had to reboot the entire system. The cameras are acting iffy and the comms appeared to be jammed. I also have a suspicion that the coalition have sent in a strike force from a set of hovercraft. Look at what his camera got on the thrifty-third floor."
Markaus brought out his tablet and played a video feed from the cameras. Along the hallway the camera was watching over were tens of bodies, many dead but a few weakly holding onto life. "We received this two minutes ago. Sadly we could not get a solid picture on the team who committee this."
"How could that be? The tower is in lockdown! No one should be able to infiltrate above the ground level?
"Skyrest is a very secure structure and the lockdown procedure is almost impenetrable, but there are several weaknesses that if applied in the right way might allow passage."
Tetin looked again at the camera feed again, "From my guess, its a team of twelve to twenty individuals." He inferred.
"I'm not quite sure. Call me paranoid, but I think there might be less than you think. Like two."
"Two? Are you kidding me. There were over hundred of our guys down there. What makes you think four could take on a force like that?
"Call it a hunch."
"A hunch? Yes, well I prefer to believe in things that are actually possible. Luckily we have those Gangamine Mercenaries guarding the staircases here. The strike force wont be able to get passed them."
"I believe my men would be better suited in defending the staircase. The Gangarmines are of bunch of thugs, with no real special forces training a private military company should have."
"The Gangarmines know how to get a job done and don't retreat. That can't be said for your company. I've read your reports. Your failures at Naccer Summit and Irek Solutions were inexcusable, not to mention your company faced something similar to what we are facing today at the Veron Corporation Building, and your incompetence allowed the Coalition to infiltrate and steal information on the Kergati. The Gangarmines have the honor of never failing a job. They don't show mercy."
Markaus didn't like being talked down to, especially from some snot nosed brat who didn't know that he helped takedown Capcor during his short term serving in the Coalition Sky Navy twenty years ago. For the past week, Tetin had been talking his head off about taking Strategics at the Academy and discussing about the great battles of the past, from the Siege of Mordaeus to the decisive battle of the Cabiboss during the Fifth Great War. Tetin thought of himself as a great military leader. He wasn't. Tetin was using textbook tactics for the security detail, which a real leader would never get caught doing. Real leaders improvised on the fly, never letting the enemy guess his moves. Markaus even extended his abilities further than that, planning his enemies' moves five steps ahead. Capcor and Kobrana were true leaders, who Markaus respected. Tetin was not. Tetin was a weak and feeble coward who demonstrated his strength in voice only.
Despite his inner disdain for Tetin Jakere, he kept his mouth shut. Markaus had fierce loyalty to his employers, who was Kobrana for this operation, and Markaus was being payed a lot for this job. Usually Markaus would be suspicious of being betrayed with the amount his company was being payed, but this did't seem like the case for the Fingers of Cathorn. They were a force fighting on the large-scale with billions in resource, Markaus assumed. They didn't have time to double-cross him.
" Those missions were out of my hands. We were caught off guard." Markaus tried to explain but Tetin wouldn't have it.
"I find your excuses pathetic, but, alas, if we do need reinforcements, your mercs are up in Central Security and can respond quickly. You're lucky Korbana found some use for your company. He's a fool in my opinion."
"I'm sure the he would love to hear that remark. He'll behead you himself for your insolence." Markaus chimed.
"Go ahead and tell him. It won't matter in the long run."
"I'm so sure. Anyway, the other reason I came down here was to escort you back into Central Security. Its not safe for you here."
Markaus gestured to Tetin to follow him, but Tetin wouldn't. "You do not give me orders! My place right now is to be here and make sure this floor is floor is secure. These men below are Cathorn's best. My safety is assured with them. You may go ahead and cower with your lackeys in the CSO."
Markaus had had enough of the Kayan insulting him., "Fine then. When you reach the bowels of Hell, tell your father I said hello." He turned around and began to walk out of the Overlook.
Tetin's face clenched and rage intensified. Finally he snapped and charged Markaus. Markaus predicted this and turned around instantly. With a sleight of hand, Markaus jabbed Tetin in his exposed stomach., then took took Tetin's arm, twisted it, and brought him up close to his face. Baxster raised his gun, but Markaus had beaten him, with a handgun outstretched in his freehand.
"Don't try it, Bax." Markaus asserted, then lowered his head down to look face to face at Tetin, who was struggling feebly. " Don't ever to attack me. You will lose." He then dropped Tetin and left the room.
Tetin crawled to one of the windows and pulled himself up. He scanned the room and found Markaus strolling towards the elevator. Tetin came close to ordering his men to shoot the drygona on sight but ultimately, he bit his lip and let the daring drygona into the elevator unharmed.
Tetin focused his rage at his assistant. "What the hell were you doing! Why didn't you fire at him when you had the chance!" He yelled.
"I'm s-sorry sir. He had the upper hand and ya-you were in way of my shot."Baxster stammered
"DON'T MAKE EXCUSES!" Tetin screamed out loud, disturbing the whole floor. After several deep breaths, he looked out at the many personnel looking up from the office below. "Get back to your duties!" He yelled.
"Sorry sir." Baxster said humiliated.
"It's fine. I don't blame you, I just wish that that Markaus hadn't told me about our situation. Today was going so great until he had to show his scaly face and tell us that a whole strike team is headed up here. Don't worry though. I have this covered."
Tetin radioed the Gangamine Mercenaries guarding the staircase. Their leader picked up.
"Yessssir?" The serbabtis leader asked.
"This is Commander Tetin. You have a Coalition strike team headed straight towards you. Be on guard."
"Thank you. We will make sssure they sssuffer dearly."
"That's why we're paying you" Tetin said, his tone now eased. "That all. Leave none alive." Tetin ended the transmission and sat back in his seat.
"What do we do now, sir?" Baxster asked.
"We sit back and relax. All the heavy work is over. Tell me when it's eleven thirty."
"Yes, sir." Baxster said and focused his eyes on the ticking clock in the Overlook.


Fifteen minutes passed, slow and dull. Tetin had gotten back up out of his seat and once again gazed down at the elite guard organized below. Baxster meanwhile had fallen asleep, the soft hum of gunfire and rocket fire from outside the building a lullaby to his ears. It was unusually calm and almost all their nerves had been settled. Tetin hadn't heard back from the Gangarmine Mercenaries, but he didn't really expect them to call back. Serbantis thugs were cold-blooded, literally and figuratively. Still deep inside his head, the thought of their failure
Tetin's cup suddenly fell from the desk it was perched on. Tetin turned around and went to pick it up. As he looked down, a thought of curiosity popped in his head. Tetin remembered specifically placing the metal cup on the desk square in the middle. How it managed to land on the floor seemed inconceivable, he thought. Then he felt a warm ring touch the back of his neck, the muzzle of a recently used gun.
Tetin instinctively put his hands over his head as to seem cooperative. He also did this to slowly reach for the tiny pistol tied to a leather strap behind his collar. He then turned slowly around to race his captor, a snowy grey kayan with fiery, red eyes staring right back at him. Tetin did a quick scan of the room and realized there were only two coalition soldiers in the room, the kayan facing him and a black felic who had put Baxtser in a headlock. He looked back at the Kayan in front of him, with a sly grin on his face.
" So you two are the only ones that survived the the climb up here." Tetin said arrogantly
The kayan looked right back into Tetin's eyes, with an equally arrogant tone, "No, we're the only ones they sent inside."
All the blood fell from Tetin's face. Not only had Markaus been right, but those two soldiers had gotten past a whole team of Gangarmine Mercenaries. He panicked and went for his pistol. Sadly for him, Kayan was quick to act and twisted Tetin's arm. Tetin tried to scream but the kayan smothered his voice with the greater of his arm. Tetin dropped the gun to the floor and the kayan kicked it across the floor. Baxster tried to struggle free to help his colleague, but the black felic managed to keep a firm grip on him. The kayan pick up Tetin by the collar and pressed him against the wall.
"If you try a stunt like that again, I will take you down. As of now, I require your cooperation. If you tell us what we want, I promise you will remain alive, at least for now." The kayan said sternly, with a slight glimmer of warmth.
Tetin was paralyzed in fear. His whole entire life was surrounded by listening to his father tell his heroics tales of battle alongside compatriots and hopefully being just as heroic as his father someday. Tetin longed for the thrill of the fight, the joy of killing the enemy, and the taste of fresh-spilled blood in the air. Only now did he realize he only enjoyed those tales because his father could always flip it so it would be a victory even if it was a crushing defeat.
Tetin looked down at his feet. He thought about his options in his head, rapidly jumping from idea to idea. The choice seemed simple. All Tetin had to do was scream and he would alert the entire floor below him. This would secure the safety of the leaders on the top floor, but certainly come at the cost of his own life. He knew what he had to do.
Tetin got on his knees, "Please, please don't harm me! I didn't know what I was joining! I, uh, have a wife and three kids! I will do anything you ask, just please don't shoot!" Tetin whimpered pitifully.
Baxster was horrified at how Tetin was now pandering to the Federation scum., losing any dignity he had kept. He new Capcor would have spit on the soldiers' feet and took the bullet. He couldn't let Tetin reveal the secrets of the Fingers of Cathorn but the felic behind him had placed a cloth gag his mouth, which caused any shout or yell to sound more more than a faint whine. All Baxster could do was listen.
"Are you seriously trying to pull the whole 'I have a family' plea? Here's a little hint; A lot of people have families. I'm willing to bet fifty-percent of the people we've fought had families. I don't feel a bit of remorse for their deaths." said the black felic.
"Not to mention that by your micro-twitches and voice fluctuations I can tell you're lying." The kayan brought up, putting his face within inches of Tetin's face, "Now tell us where Commander Kobrana is. I won't ask again." The kayan's red eyes pierced Tetin's soul.
"General." Tetin said sheepishly
"What? Say that louder." The kayan asked politely
"General Kobrana. He was promoted." Tetin added shamefully, "He's in the board room, with they rest of the leaders."
The kayan asked another question, "Who are the leaders?"
"I don't know! I'm just a security officer, that's all. I know many are high ranking leaders and their corporate sponsors."
"Corporate sponsors?" The Kayan repeated, turning towards his partner, who had a slightly astonished look on his face. "Well, I guess that explains how they got all their supplies and weaponry." The kayan turned back to Tetin, "Okay, thank you. I'm going to need you to go the intercom and order the men below us to move out. Don't comply and I will kill you." The Kayan threatened.
Right before Tetin could reach the intercom, Baxster stomped on the black Felic's foot, breaking free of his grip. Baxtser then lunged towards the red, emergency switch. He slammed the switch down and a siren emitted around the entire floor. Baxtser managed to give one last glare at Tetin before the black felic fired three rounds into Baxtser's chest.
Suddenly the windows of the overlook shattered, as a hailstorm of rounds flew through the air from the floor below. The kayan and felic dove down into computer desks for cover, while Tetin ran for the doorway. A single click of a handgun stopped him.
"You not going anywhere, dude." The felic said, pointing his handgun at Tetin's head.
"Leave him, T'Ko! He's complied to our orders so far," The kayan ordered his partner, but warned Tetin as well, "but if you bring back a squad of your cronies, your the first person I'm shooting." Tetin bowed his head and thanked him, "Castra cer shan." which literally translates to " Many Blessing"
The Kayan nodded in acceptance and Tetin ran off.


T'Ko stuck his head out of the desk he was in, "So what now Kirek! I don't think Plan F will work here." T'Ko shouted condescendingly
"Y'Know, its times like these i'm so happy to have you as my partner." Kirek shot back, feeling for a flashbang on his bandolier. "Okay here's the plan. I'm going to stun them with a flashbang. That buys you seven seconds. You're going to jump off into the cubicles below. Fight through on the ground while I support you from abaove and spot targets. Are we clear?" He shouted through the noise.
"Crystal." T'ko replied, unsheathing his Kinto blades by flicking his wrists out.
Kirek threw the flashbang over his shoulder and into the middle of the room below. A blinding flash and deafening noise erupted from the small device into the pentagonal room, causing a brief ceasefire. T'ko leapt over the desk he was hiding in and jumped onto two unsuspecting Finger of Cathorn militia, impaling both as he came down and effectively breaking his landing. Kirek meanwhile pushed over his desk and placed it along the thin metal wall of the overlook, reinforcing it. Kirek peeked his gun out, fired a few shot, then peeked his head over. There was a hornet's nest of activity. Kirek did a quick count and guessed there was about thirty or forty militia, with thirteen coming towards T'ko from three cubicle lanes.
Kirek shouted down from the overlook, "Okay Teak! You have three ways to get by. There are seven coming down the middle, four from the right, and two to the left. Recommend the path of least resistance."
T'Ko gave Kirek a thumbs up and darted forward. Now Kirek didn't know whether T'ko couldn't hear him or T'ko liked the challenge but T'ko charged head on through the middle lanes, slashing and shooting down everyone in his path. Kirek sighed and resumed covering fire on the two lanes to either side. Kirek first aimed his sight at the squad coming from the right. He fired five shots; four to take all four down, and a fifth for safety. He turned his attention and his rifle at the two militiamen coming from the left. Kirek used his Ragnasil power to toss the front militia from the leg into the air then fired a round from his assault rifle. The round traveled through the air, penetrated the militiaman in the air through the chest an out, then nailed the second militiaman in the head. Kirek looked back up from the scope, a grin of satisfaction on his face
T'Ko had just finished his charge up the center lane and took a brief moment to look proudly at the path of destruction he made. There were five dead militia lying on the ground and the other two had keeled over but were still holding onto life. T'ko turned his head back around and barely had enough time to react to what he saw in front of him.
An ogre-like Cader stood in front of him several yards away, clad in heavy plate armor and carrying MG-174 chaingun, a gun usually found on the bottom of a combat hoverplane. Worst of all, he was standing in the way between T'Ko and the elevator to the top of the tower. "You now face the might of da MAELSTROM!" The cader laughed and open fired on T'ko.
T'Ko dove to left as a storm of rounds flew past him. When he hit the floor, T'Ko flattened himself as much as he could. Another volley of rounds shot past just over Teacko's head"KIREK!" T'Ko screamed as loud as he could.
"I see him." Kirek replied quietly to himself. He knew his voice could't beat the heavy noise of gunfire in the room. He fired several shots at the cader, but the cader shrugged it off like nothing happened, keeping his focus on shredding T'ko to bits.
Now what Kirek didn't see was a serbantis holding a grenade launcher who had set his sights on Kirek.
Kirek was busy reloading when he saw the flash from the grenade launcher. "Oh crap!" he yelled. With lightning reflex's he managed to use his ragnasil to catch the grenade in mid-air, orbit it around his body and send it back.
The grenade soared threw the air, landing in the machine gun-toting cader's mouth. " No'ting can hide from da Maelstrom! I vill hunt hue like da...HMMMPH!?" The cader gave one last laugh before the grenade detonated and blew away the Militia guarding the elevator.
T'ko got up off the floor after the ceasefire and checked his surroundings. Just inches above his head, hundreds of bullet holes penetrated the thick, plastic walls of the cubicle he had hid inside. T'ko combed through the back of his hair and felt a snag. He pulled out a bullet, still warm to the touch. "Whoa," was all T'ko had to say.
T'ko then ventured out of the small space, at the same time Kirek leapt down from the overlook, shaking his hand to cool off his hand. T'ko looked down the way towards the elevator and noticed the large black ring from the blast and the numerous casualties from it.
"How the heck did you pull that off?" T'Ko asked
"Dumb luck, I guess. Let's try to get our head back in the game for right now. The whole operation is depending on us. From here, all we have to do is eliminate some bodyguards, arrest the leaders and the Commander, and head back to Trapatho Base." Kirek instructed, then pressed the "Up" elevator button
After waiting a half minute, Kirek pressed the button repeatedly in frustrated. T.ko looked up at the diagram showing where the elevator currently was. "Looks like its stuck on the Eighty-second floor...the Central Security Office." T'ko said, his voice trailing as a voice came from the intercom.
"Thank you T'ko. I'm glad one of you is using their brain. By the way Kirek, constantly pressing the button isn't going to make it come down." The voice said loudly
Both the rangers recognized the voice, "Markaus Zerraki? You're ALIVE!" Kirek said back, amazed.
"Forget that! He's also working for a radical terrorist group!" T'Ko said, also astonished.
"They prefer the title of "Liberators" and yes, Kirek, I am very much alive and I'm going to make sure you both suffer for your betrayal
"What betrayal? We worked as allies together the last time we met!" T'Ko chimed in.
"I remember you left me for dead when the Kyllisks horde made it through Thompath Station's defenses."
"We were given orders to evacuate the survivors. The kyllisks were too numorous. I even remember we offered if you were coming with us, but you declined" Kirek brought up
"I do not remember this offer, nor do I believe you. They overran us and forced us back. I only lost two men before making back to safety but many of my unit had become infected from wounds, and we had to purge them. I personally had to kill my second in command. You left us for dead."
"I'm sorry to hear but we were left to-" Kirek started to make a point but was cut off.
"Saying your sorry isn't going to fix what you've done to my life. You have been a prick in my side for far too long and have caused my company a large loss in profit. Thanks to a tip downstairs, I have ordered all the troops in the Citadel not already fighting your aerines downstairs to eliminate you. You can't go any further and you can't go back. You shall die, but by all means, try to make it entertaining. I'll even shut off the cameras, give you some privacy. I do love surprises." Markaus then ended the message and turned off the intercom.
"Arrogant Bastard." T'ko remarked.
"That he may be, but we have a much bigger problem to worry about." Kirek said, then scanned the room looking for a quick idea.
"Y'know how much you wanna bet that the tip came from that guy you spared. You should have-"
"Yes, T'ko, I know I should have killed him. I thought he might show some gratitude but...wait I have an idea. Go ahead and build a bunker using the cubicle walls and whatever else you can find around directly in front of the elevator." Kirek ordered.
While T'ko was busy taking apart cubicles for the bunker, Kirek was mediating, trying to make his mind blank. Usually he would only focus for a second to use his powers properly, but to use them on large scale required much longer, sometimes up to minute. When his mind was finally blank, he concentrated his powers on the cubicles in front of him. He raised the cubicles from off the floor and then assembled them around in his mind, creating one long path from the double doors to the elevator. He then gently lowered them into place, creating a funnel; the side from the double doors being the narrowest and widening out from there.
Kirek turned around, to see how much T'ko had progressed with the bunker building. T'ko had simply stacked the cubicle walls on their side, forming a sloppy but thick walled bucker, with a small open gunport out towards the funnel. For someone who prided himself on his engineering skills, Kirek was disappointed in T'ko's work but otherwise unsurprised.
"Good job." Kirek complimented
"Yeah, you didn't do too shabby yourself." T'ko complimented back, "So what's your plan here? Are you planning on us holding off hundreds, maybe thousands of militiamen, 'cause that sounds suicidal too me."
"No 'we' aren't. I'm going to hold them off. You are nimble enough to go through that ventilation grate on the ceiling up there and hopefully infiltrate the CSO, and unlock the elevator controls." Kirek instructed, pointing to the ventilation just thirty feet above their heads. T'Ko gave Kirek a worried look. "Look, if I don't make it, please-"
"Save it. This mission is relying on us. 'Phoenixes Never Die' remember?" T'ko said, repeating Phoenix Team's motto
"Glad to hear it. Remember to tell Markaus I give my regards. You ready?" Kirek asked
"Yep. Fire away." T'ko confined, stiffening his body.
Kirek concentrated, then focused his energy on T'Ko's body. T'ko jumped slightly as the Ragnasil energy surged through his body.
"Man! That is a feeling you never get used to." T'ko commented. It was a strange feeling because Ragnasil works through hard, solid objects, in his case, T'ko's skeleton. To him, it felt like two hands had slipped through his coat and skin and was gripping onto his spine. Kirek began to slowly lift T'ko off the ground, but T'ko shifted uncomfortably. "Can to get me by the shoulder blade?" T'Ko asked.
"Of course." Kirek apologized and altered his hand position. T'ko let out a relieving sigh, feeling a little bit more comfortable as he was being hoisted to the ceiling.
Voices echoed down the hallway outside the room, growing louder as they came closer.
"Hurry!" Kirek yelled to T'ko, who was busy cutting the grate. Suddenly, a small group of militia stormed though the doorway and opened fire on the two rangers, with two-thirds of the shots being fired at Kirek, who was still holding T'ko up. Kirek looked up to see T'ko gesturing to let go. Kirek nodded his head and corresponded. T'ko jammed one of his Kinto blades into the thin sheet-metal to keep him from falling. He then pulled his submachine gun out of its holster, and laid down covering fire so Kirek could get back to the bunker. The tactic worked to an extent, because now the group focused ALL their fire on the black felic dangling from the ventilation duct. Bullets whizzed by T'ko and he winced as three impacted his armored vest. Seeing that Kirek had grabbed the chain gun and made it into the bunker, T'ko got out of the action and began his ascent through the ventilation duct.
Once he got into the makeshift bunker, Kirek dove to the floor as rounds flew above his head. He crawled towards gunport, pushed the Chain gun through it, and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, indicating that it was out of ammo. Kirek cursed and crawled back to fetch the ammo pack from the cader's corpse. He darted out of bunker, fired a few shots to suppress the militia, then grabbed the pack and ran back into the bunker. As he pulled the ammobelt out of the pack and loaded it into the chain gun, he started to breath heavily to relieve stress and keeps his head mentally clear. Battle stress can lead to many psychological disorders. Finally, he had finished loading the gun. He wiped his brow, pulled back the hammer, and squeezed the trigger right as the militia started to charge forward.
This time when he pulled the trigger, it did exactly what the chain gun was intended to do. Everyone within the funnel was either dead or near death with their last breaths. Kirek placed the sight on the doorway. Anyone crossing it would be shot without a seconds notice. He fired a spray of warning fire.
For almost a minute, there was complete silence. He kept his eyes trained on the front door. he didn't like silence. Silence meant plotting, and that meant they were planning on something other than charging in mindlessly. That made Kirek's job a lot harder and more dangerous.
Finally the double doors opened as a dozen militiamen charged forward. Kirek mowed them down in a matter of seconds. Suddenly, rounds started to rain down from the bunker's plastic ceiling. Kirek looked out to the side of the gunport to see a group of militiamen spraying at the bunker from the overlook. Kirek jolted back inside and aimed the chaingun at the overlook, but by that time, the squad had taken cover and he was unsure if he had hit any of them
The voice of what Kirek guess was the captain of the militia was heard just outside of the room through the doorway, shouting, "This is our opportunity! Charge 'im while he's distracted!" A large mass of militiamen charged ahead, guns blazing. The salvo tore away at the thick plastic wall, some rounds even making it all the way through. Kirek swept the chaingun back towards the funnel, taking down the rest just before reaching his bunker. Just as soon as he did this, the squad on the overlook popped out their heads and continued where they left off. Kirek again aimed the chaingun at the overlook, but seeing in the corner of his eye another mass of militia starting to charge forward again. Kirek was starting to notice a pattern.
The pattern went on form just over four minutes before Kirek just could not take it any longer. It wasn't because he felt like he was in great danger but because of the constant feeling of being under fire was annoying him greatly. Which ever way turned the chaingun, the Finger Militia countered it. If he didn't react to one, he would die, but once he did react, the Milita would just change up their tactics again. It was a catch-22, in the loosest form.
Kirek did find one thing interesting; The Finger Militias' dedication to their cause. He must have killed one hundred militiamen, but they kept coming, fully knowing it would be suicide. They seemed to work as one person instead of hundreds of individuals, willing to sacrifice themselves for whatever duty called them to do. Kirek took a mental note of this for his mission debriefing. Right now, however, he had to survive.
Kirek waited until he was forced to bring the chain gun back to facing the funnel to act on his friend. With one hand on the trigger, he pulled a rubber band out of his sleeve pocket, and wrapped it around the trigger, keeping constant fire on the funnel. With his hands free, he took four grenades from his belt bandolier and placed two in each hand. He had noticed when he leapt down from it, that the overlook had two support beams that held it up. That was Kirek's target.
Kirek took a second to concentrate, visualizing the location of the beams, then pulled the pins and used a ragnasil blast to shoot the grenades over the cubicles and hoped they would land underneath the overlook, with a grenade to either side of a beam. The combined force would certainly take the overlook down. Kirek clasped his ears as the two explosions erupted through the room.
Papers and dust was drifting through the air when Kirek opened his eyes. He was at first shocked to see the structure still standing, thinking the grenades hadn't been enough. His expression shifted from disappointment and to joy, as Kirek as he heard the creak of brittle metal and watch as the overlook toppled down through the floor, falling several floors down. The whole building began to rumble. Kirek looked back at the doorway and took a deep, relieving breath. Now he just had to focus on one target. He took the rubber band off the trigger and kept his eyes forward. He just hoped T'ko would hurry up and unlock the elevator.


T'ko inched his way up the narrow ventilation. Every now and then, he shoved one of his blades into the ventilation horizontally so he could check his wrist tablet and take a quick breather. When he finished, he put all his weight on his back and feet, sheath the blade, and scooted himself up the shaft, one foot at a time. He was relieved to find he had reached the horizontal part of the ventilation system and would no longer be at the mercy of physics to keep him up. T'ko took a backward leap of faith and grasped the ledge of the next path. From here, he only had a six meter high climb and he would be over the Central Security Office.
T'ko had always preferred stealth when it comes to strategy, so he had a slight distaste with the air duct approach; It was nearly impossible to infiltrate a building using the ventilation stealthily. Every step he took made a thunderous clang that echoed in all directions. Going slowly and lightly didn't work either; it made him just as loud and twice as slow. It was like having sirens attached to his feet. With Central Security possibly being the most heavily guarded facility in Skyrest Citadel, T'ko was fairly certain he was going to be heard, if he hadn't been heard already. Despite the dilemma, T'ko had several tricks to make the clanging work in his favor.
He kept pushing on, noise and all. If he didn't unlock the elevator, not only would this whole operation be wasted, but T'ko's best friend and partner would be killed. T'ko wasn't going to let that happen.
As T'ko rumbled his way to the next shaft, he took a second to prepare himself. As he got closer, he started to hear a conversation right through the thin metal wall.
"...the most boring job of the century of the century! The Feds are never going to make it up here. Captain Zerraki even locked down the elevator and ordered all the Fingers of Cathorn guys to kill those two guys downstairs. Why are we still patrolling?" One voice whined
"Its procedure. We can't be too carefully. The Coalition already go into the building under lockdown. They could always still get in. We're here to respond in case that happens." Said the other voice. It appeared they were the only ones behind that wall.
"Okay, fine. Then why are we 'guarding' this dead end hallway. They aren't going to 'insert' themselves through this wall"
"I guess because this hallway leads directly to the main hall.. If I were you, I wouldn't question the sarge's orders."
T'Ko tried not to laugh at the two guys bickering like an old mating couple. He was about to start his ascent when he caught a glimmer in the lowlight. He felt around his neck and realized his necklace, the only item he had from his parents, was gone. That necklace was top priority to him; Necklace, saving Kirek, capture leaders of Finger Militia, in that order. He tried to be as subtle as possible crawling on the ground to reach for the necklace.
"The sergeant is an idiot. he told us to just stare at this stupid wall, like its going to turn into some monster if we turn-" The first one complained, but was cut off my the other.
"There it is again! Tell me you heard that! There is something behind that wall!"
"I don't hear anything. You're crazy."
"Maybe if you shut up you would hear it. Listen!"
T'ko froze his position, just grasping onto the necklace. He then pulled himself up by the back, but lost balance and slammed into the metal ventilation.
"Oh, wow! What the hell is that!" the other yelled, his voice a mix between surprise and terror.
This is where T'Ko's plan came in. T'ko had a wide knowledge of different animals from across the galaxy and had the ability to imitate many of their sounds. One of those animals was a dreto, a large rodent species native to Roocafen known for being great climbers and stowaways on starships. The mercenaries wouldn't think twice about him climbing through the ventilation if they thought he was dreto. He started making a dreto call when a third person entered the conversation on the other side of the wall.
"I thought I told ya two cakwads to keep guard here, not be gibber jabbing about the air conditioning!" the third voice, the sergeant, ordered.
T'ko could tell the sergeant was from a backwater part of the galaxy. With now a better time than ever, T'ko decided to start his ascent
"Sorry sir, but there something down there, rattling around." Said the second voice.
"Sounds like a big dreto stuck in the vents again. I think my trusty shotgun should do the job." the sergeant said.
"Shotgun? Oh crap!" Teacko said to himself. He would have to double time up the shaft.
"ITS MOVING! Kill it, kill it!" the first voice cried
"Sir, wouldn't it be easier to just purge the ventilation system and kill it that way" the second voice reasoned with the sergeant
"Yes but that wouldn't be any fun now would it?" The sergeant replied, cocked the shotgun and fired on the wall.
T'ko tensed up. About a foot below him, the shotgun had blown a hole in the ventilation.
"Great shot, sir!" the second voice praised.
"Yes it was! But the damn rodent ain't dead yet!" The Sergeant said annoyed and cocked the shotgun again.
T'ko started sprint-climbing the shaft as shotgun rounds ripped through the sheet metal below him. "OHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAPOHCRAP!" he kept crying in his head, which actually helped paced his movements up the shaft. Finally, he reached the top of shaft and pulled himself up onto the horizontal part. He started to crouch sprint when a shotgun blast burst through the ventilation in front of him. T'Ko froze.
"Got 'im!" The sergeant cheered. He turned back at the other two mercenaries. "Thank goodness I was here, or I'd bet ya two woulda wet yerselves. That's why I sent you two to guard here; In case this stuff happens!"
"In case a droto is in the air vents?" The first voice asked sarcastically.
"No, dumb ass. What if that droto was trained by the Coalition to come up here or had a patch of explosives attach to it? You two would have been unprepared!" The sergeant said confidently. What He didn't notice was T'ko jumping down from the hole and landing silently behind him.
"SIR!" The two others, both kayans, said in unison, pointing behind the sergeant.
"What!" The Sergeant shouted as he turned his head to see what was behind him.
T'ko wasted no time grabbing the sergeant's head and turning it ninty degrees to break the neck. T'ko looked at the two kayans, too petrified to respond to the felic intruder. T'ko casually saluted the two of them. "Baka Tri'mingo" he said in Felucian. Then, in the blink of an eye, he swung out his two custom "Hand Cannons" and shot the two mercenaries in their heads.
T'ko put his left hand cannon back in its sheath and placed his back against a wall as he heard more movement coming from the hallway to his left. He estimated it would take seven seconds for the footsteps to reach him, so he began to count. When he counted to eight, he swung a left hook through the door, nailing a mercenary in the jugular with the barrel of the hand cannon. Another mercenary ran through the door and rammed T'ko into the wall behind him. The mercenary press his left hand on T'Ko's right wrist, preventing him from shooting. With the other hand, the mercenary began pounding T'ko's stomach. T'ko took two good hits before regaining the mental prowess to control left arm. He wouldn't have enough leverage to use his Kinto blade, so instead T'ko drew his left hand cannon and squeezed off two shots into the mercenary's stomach. Mercenary dropped to the floor, but T'ko could see there was a large team of mercenaries running down the hallway in front of him. With both arms free, T'ko was ready take them full on.
Thanks to T'ko's natural ambidexterity, he could take full advantage of the power and accuracy of the rifle-caliber rounds inside the two hand cannons while duel-wielding. T'ko walked steadily forward, bullets whizzing by his head, as he kept constant fire on the mercenary squad. Soon, the first squad fell, but a second had taken their place. T'ko killed two of the second squad, but then ran out of ammo in both guns. With the flick of his wrists, he dropped the empty cartridges out of the guns then threw both guns into the air. T'ko then grabbed two full cartridges from his his two side pockets of his pants, then threw them into the air as well. The smooth cartridges slid slickly into the bottom of each hand cannon. T'ko rolled forward and caught the two guns in midair. With a sly grin on his face, he continued where he left off. After taking down the last mercenary out of the group, T'ko reloaded his hand cannons again and moved around the corner to the next hallway. T'ko froze. In front of him was a squad of thirteen mercenaries, blocking the short hallway at the end, where it met the main hall of the Central Security Office. All of them had their guns aimed at T'ko, and two were carrying machine-guns. T'ko took a deep breath and executed his next move.
T'ko ran back around the corner as hundreds of rounds filled the hallway. He kept running until he was in the middle of the first hallway, then swung around. He ran back down the hallway at full speed. One of the mercenaries decided to give chase to T'ko and T'ko slashed him on the way back. When T'ko reached the corner of the shorter hallway, he leapt over to the other wall, and using the momentum he had already accumulated, started to run on the wall, firing at the astonished mercenaries. As the mercenaries started to aim at T'ko, he got off the wall and fell on his knees, sliding forward.
By the time he had stopped sliding on his knees, all of the mercenaries had been slain. T'ko got up from the ground and looked down the main hallway. It was very big, nearly thirty feet wide and had sterile white walls. It was also loaded with mercenaries and militiamen, nearly fifty from what T'ko could estimate. T'ko leaned back for cover as rounds hit the wall and looked down the other side. Like a oasis in the middle of a desert, a security checkpoint stood in the middle of of the hallway. T'ko took the risk and sprinted it, firing down the hallway. To T'ko's surprise, it was unlocked. T'ko opened the door, went in, slammed it shut, and locked it.
Inside the security checkpoint, T'ko would be safe. It was designed to help keep the security guards inside safe, with bulletproof windows in the front and a heavy metal door in the back. It was a three roomed structure, with the room where the security guards would sit and watch the people coming in and out of the elevator, then had a small bathroom and a tiny closet. T'ko opened up the closet to find a small armory.
To his disappointment, the armory only had shotguns and handguns. T'ko would need a machine-gun to take the amount of enemies outside full on. T'ko sat down on the floor, downtrodden. He had to think of something to get through. The constant ting-tanging rounds hitting the metal door wasn't helping him think either. Then, suddenly, the floor began to shake violently. T'ko braced the wall for stability. The last thing T'ko saw was a filing cabinet across from him topple over on his head.


Kirek kept his finger on the trigger as he continued to mow down wave upon wave of militiamen running at him from the doorway. With his nerves calmed from the destruction of the Overlook just moments before, Kirek was in sort of a relaxed mood firing down the funnel. Still, Kirek couldn't help but be fascinated by the persistence of the militiamen.
Kirek had fought the Fingers of Cathorn on five occasions before today, with Carnifuge far dwarfing the other four. During all those fights, He and T'ko had faced challenges, not in overall combat, but in their cunning in their fights. He remember specifically stories on Carnifuge of the Finger militia coming out of no where in the jungle, taking out entire companies and convoys, then rushing back without suffering a single casualty. The men he had fought had experience in guerilla warfare, many being former pirates, rebels and veterans of conflicts against the Federation. He had guess the average ages of the militia he had fought there to be twenty-five to thirty-five, around the age of most officers and squad leaders in the Coalition. The militia he was fighting today were different. They seemed to lack tactical instincts and maturity, going head on into machine gun fire because their captain told them too. This troubled Kirek greatly. He realized he wasn't fighting devoted soldiers of a cause. He was fighting indoctrinated young men, taught to give their lives to endure victory. Indoctrination was a long process, taking roughly ten years to firmly plant the seeds of corruption, which meant the Fingers of Cathorn had been around or at least been plotted out for a long time. In Kirek's book, they were innocent, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to tear them down as they charged at him.
Suddenly, the chaingun clicked and stopped shooting. Kirek's blood ran cold. He was out of ammo.
From the opposite end of the funnel, Kirek heard the captain of the militia give his orders. "He's done! Avenge your brothers and sisters! Kill the Fed before he can reload!"
They didn't have to worry about Kirek reloading. He was entirely out of ammo. Now, Kirek did have to worry. He pushed the chaingun out of the way of the gunport, pulled his assault rifle off his back and began to fire down range, nailing every militiaman that came barreling down the funnel. However, Kirek knew he wasn't going to be able to hold back for long. He remembered when he was on the Overlook that there was over a hundred individual cubicles forming a labyrinth on the lop-sided part of pentagonal office. He could evade the militia there until T'ko unlocked the elevator. He just had to buy the time to get there and hide.
Kirek took a flashbang off his body armor and threw it into the doorway. It detonated, disorienting the miltiamen on the otherside of the funnel. Kirek concentrated hard, removing all sound and distraction from his mind and focus his energy on the funeel itself. After three seconds, he unleashed a wave of Ragnasil blasting apart the funnel and sending it in front of the doorway, creating a mound of debris that blocked it. It would take a while for the militamen to dig through it, giving Kirek all the time he needed.
Kirek wandered through the labyrinth, setting up tricks and traps to deter the militia forces that would search for him. He knew after using up almost all his grenades, he ran around a corner and hid under a desk in a cubicle where they would have to be looking directly into it to find him. He sat and waited.
A minute later, the militia finally got through the debris blockage and began to scour he maze. They were clearly more nervous and less numerous, as Kirek heard the captain of the militia do a headcount of thirty individuals with the other dealing with the force of aeries working their way up the Citadel. Kirek was nervous too, but he could control it.
"Watch your corners!" "Sweep him out" "Remember, he's just one man!" were a few of the several orders the militia captain used to encourage his men. He was frightened as well.
Any morale that the captain had given to his men was immediately lost when they stumbled upon something on a wall. "S-sir I fa-found something, sir!" Said one of the militia. A group crowded around the him, to see a message scrawled in blood "Do you dare hunt the hunter?"
Kirek laughed inside his head. Kirek knew then second best thing to a physical weapon was a psychological weapon. He looked at his bloodstained fingers on his right hand, admiring his plan. Many would judge such an act as being uncivilized and lowering himself below the Fingers of Cathorn. Kirek knew many of those same people, the same kind that would say diplomacy is the prime weapon of war, would die on their knees without a fight. Kirek thought different. If he was going to survive, Kirek had to takedown every single advantage the Finger militia had over him. It also wasn't like he was using the blood of their corpses. He used the blood from his and T'ko's blood transfusions packs he had in his pack in case either one needed them. Just because they were his enemy didn't mean they shouldn't be respected in their death.
He listened as the crowd dispersed and went on with their search. A minute later, another militiaman found a bloody message on a wall. He read it out loud, "We have taken the city and soon the Tower. Surrender now."
"Don't listen to 'im, soldiers! He's only playing games with your head! The Federation shall fall! It is in our destiny!" The captain rallied.
Just then, an explosion went off, followed by a blood curtailing screams. A group of militia must have sprung Kirek's grenade tripwire. He could hear the captain of the militia curse and yell at his men, ordering them to search every corner and cubby. Paranoia was spreading, just as Kirek wanted.
Kirek remained motionless, listening intently to his surroundings. the constant noise and confusion from the militia made this very hard, but Kirek closed his eyes to increase his sense of hearing. He heard footsteps coming around the corner and closer to his position. He tensed up and held his gun tightly, aiming at the opening to the cubicle. Then the militiaman emerged, but luckily with his back facing away from cubicle, so he didn't see the lone kayan hiding underneath the desk. Kirek took this to his advantage, getting up with ought the slightest noise and removed the rifle's bayonet knife. Then, quick and precise, he shoved the knife into the back of the militiaman's neck and severed the spinal column.
As the body went limp, he put the body into the cubicle, placing him into a office chair. He would serve as another psychological deterrent.
Kirek had to find another place to hide while evading the patrols out to find him. He had gone down two lanes without running into any militiamen, but then heard two sets of footsteps coming down the third. Kirek doubled back, but stopped cold when he saw a pair of Felic ears over a cubicle coming at him from the other direction. He was trapped between two patrols, no other way out. Kirek turned around and went to intercept the two militia coming down in front of him. He hugged the wall and stopped at the corner of the lane. He counted in his head as the footsteps grew louder. Finally, right before the militiamen turned the corner, Kirek lunged at them, stabbing the trachea of the first one then stabbed upward through the second's ribcage. Both screamed before meeting their fates, but their cries were deafened by another explosion from one of Kirek's grenade trip wires.
With everyone focused on the explosion, Kirek took the opportunity to set up another trap. Above him, parallel to the lane, was a long, fluorescent light fixture. He dipped his hand into the blood pack and wrote two word on the wall, then shot a Meta-5 plastique explosive up into the light fixture, where it stuck just above the bulb. He then crept off silently and found another cubicle to hide in.
Several minutes past, each feeling like hours. Something as wrong. It had been more than fifteen minutes since he last saw T'ko and he should have unlocked the elevator by now. Still, Kirek kept his patience. T'ko was facing the most heavily guarded facility and was probably on his way back from the command center within the Central Security Office. He perked his ears upon hearing a sudden commotion from the militia. They had found his last message. He could hear the captain's voice over the rest of his men.
"Let me through!" He ordered, "Someone tell me what it is this time."
"Sir, he killed Tomas and Requil an...and wrote other message" One of the militiaman stammered.
The captain pushed his way in front of the crowd, and read the message, " Look Up." The captain did as it read, "There is nothing up there!" he shouted out loud.
"Wrong again." Kirek whispered to himself and pulled the detonation trigger on the Meta-5 launcher. It sent out a low frequency radio signal which triggered the detonator attached to the plastique putty. The relatively tiny explosion shattered the fluorescent glass, sending razor sharp shards raining down on the crowd below. Three shards imbedded themselves into the captain's eyes. Another set were actually able to pierce the skull of one of the militia, killing him. All in all, this final trap sent the whole floor into chaos.
The now blinded captain struggled to get off the ground. It took two of his men to support him as he tried to walk.
"Sir, the men are scattering! You need to rally them." One of his supports spoke up.
"Let them go. They are cowards to Cathorn's cause. After we cast the Federation out of the city, we will gather and execute every single one of them." The captain said, agony in is voice, then he ordered out loud, "The rest of you, his game of hide and seek has gone on long enough. Tear down everything you see!."
At that moment, gunfire opened up throughout the large room. Kirek took a deep gulp, rethinking everything he had done within the past minutes. This was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to cause enough confusion that the majority of the miltia forces would retreat back, not have them fire blindly into everything they saw. Sooner or later, they were going to find him. Kirek came to reality. He knew T'ko was dead and that the mission had become a failure. Kirek sighed, knowing there was no turning back, but he wasn't going down without a fight. He began to meditate deeply, focusing his every thought and charging his energy. When the militia would finally find him, they were in for a big surprise.


The mercenaries finished taking everything off from T'ko's limp body, excluding his pants and shirt. Markaus Zerraki stared at him, a bit of disappointment in his eyes. Her looked back at the mercenaries. "Wake him up." He ordered.
"Yes sir." Said the one of the mercenaries, picking up a bucket of ice cold water and dumped it on over the felic's head.
T'ko woke up immediately. "Ahhhhhuhuhuhuhuh!" He groaned as cold water soaked him to the bone. His eyes darted around the room, as he tried to figure out where he was and why he was suddenly wet. It took only a few seconds for him to realize he was inside of Central Security Command and that directly in front of him stood Markaus, the notorious mercenary. He also realize other things as well, like he had been stripped of his items, his hands were tied together by thick rope and he was kneeling on the floor, and there were eight other mercenaries in two rows of four with their guns aimed at him. "Ah, crap." T'ko muttered
"Happy to see me?" Markaus asked amused in himself.
"Don't charm yourself." T'ko spat back.
"Yes, well, imagine my surprise to see you up here. I admit, you did catch me off guard, using the the ventilation to crawl up here, but ultimately it proved futile. Not even the great T'Ko Ash'eon ' Nero'coo could defeat my men."
"What the hell are you talking about! I must have killed twenty or thirty of your men!"
Markaus sighed. "Those were new hires..."
"Yeah, they did seem a little less skilled then what I expected. Still, your men didn't take me down at all. The building shook and toppled a filing cabinet on me."
"Ahh, but do you why it shook?" Markaus asked, a sly grin his face.
"No, but let me guess: Your mercs had something to do it." T'ko said half-interested.
"Not at all. My crew did break down the door and hauled your ass, but they did not cause the explosion. In fact, it was you partner. You see, he blew up the security platform in the accounting office, which caused it to crumble through the floors below and rumble the top of the building. I got quite a complaint from upstairs. So if you think about it, you were captured because of your friend. What a pal, eh?"
"It's not like he did on purpose to help you. Heck if you think about it, Kirek is better at taking me down than your mercs, and he did it indirectly.'' T'ko mocked
"As I said before, those were new hires, with very little experience in the field. You actually did me a favor since now I don't have to pay them. Now these eight men in front of you could more than take you down alone. They are also the eight survivors of my company from Thompath Station, the same ones that you left for dead. Since then, they've been training every single day to out shoot and out fight anyone from the Strategic Assault Ranger Group. They wish you dead just much as I do."
T'ko took a closer look at each mercenary. The farthest four each wore combat shades and carried modified assault rifles. The next two wore baklavas and held sub machines guns. The final two, which were exactly to T'ko's right and left, he could only see with the corner of his eyes. Although he couldn't get a view of their head, he did identify one thing they both had; his hand cannons, which were only about a inch from touching both his ears. This annoyed T'ko greatly, but he had to keep his cool. What he did notice was each of the mercenaries were staring at Markaus instead of T'ko. Markaus himself was facing him but every now and then took glances at the large monitors behind him. He grinned mentally in his head. He found his opportunity to turn the tables on his captors.
"Really? Do you really blame me and Kirek falling back for your company's large casualties?" T'ko said. He then subtly reached down his back and took a raindrop shaped blade from a small pocket within the back of his pants. The blade had been used as a holdout weapon when Kirek and T'ko would go under deep cover and were checked for firearms and sharp weapons. Now it was T'ko's way to cut the rope that bound his hands.
"In a way, we do. I realize you were following orders, and we were giving you much needed time by holding the kyllisks off. I was expecting you to come back to help us get out to return the favor. You never did. I do not like being betrayed by my own employers."
T'ko felt a bit of remorse. Markaus's company was one of the first forces Kirek and him faced upon graduating from the Academy and from their first confrontation, he had always thought of Markaus as a greedy and arrogant mercenary. However, there were times when he could be an ally in the roughest times, even a friend. He even taught T'ko and Kirek several martial arts that have saved both their lives multiple times. "I'm...I'm sorry to hear that. We thought you could handle-"
"Stop! I wasn't finished. When we did make it off the derelict and infested station, my crew here and I went back to the headquarters of Executive Combat Force, where I was promptly...laid off, having failed another contract, thanks entirely to you. Luckily, these eight men remained loyal, having been there personally. I created my own private military company, Zerraki Security Incorporated, which I had to fund with my own fortune, the same I had been saving to help my family live the high life. Even with the new company organized, we could barely get any contracts, thanks to the fact that you two had ruined my records and my former employers destroyed what was left of my reputation. We spent the first months protecting farmers from beats and bandits and working for petty criminal organizations. I was losing more money than I could make..."
By this time, T'ko had cut the rope binding his hands just enough that he could break free when he needed. However, he had become very enthralled by Markaus's story, even sympathetic to what happened to him. He only had one question to ask.
"But why would you accept a contract from a terrorist organization, like the Fingers of Cathron? Not even you are could lower yourself that low!" T'ko exclaimed.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures. They offered me contract I would be crazy to refuse, offering me millions in credits. Not to mention, that if I fulfilled this contract, they would spread my business and...force my former employers into early retirement."
"You actually think their going to keep their part of the agreement? It sounds far fetched to me."
"It has crossed my mind a few times today, especially when the Coalition arrived. However, I trust General Kobrana. He's an honorable man."
"HE'S KILLED THOUSANDS! HE CAUSED MILLIONS OF REFUGES ON CARNIFUGE! Does that sound honorable to you?" T'ko yelled at the top of his lungs, infuriated by Markaus's statement. The mercenary to his left backed T'ko in the back with his own handgun. T'ko hissed.
"If you were to meet the man, you would think different. Sadly, your not going to get the chance. I must fulfil my contract. Your going to die by your own weapons."
"Yeah, I kinda figure that out, but if I am to die, then how come I'm still alive?"
"I was hoping you would ask. Just because you are to be executed doesn't mean I don't want to make you suffer as much as possible. What better punishment than to see your own partner and friend die?"
"He's not going to die. He has a chaingun that is pinning the militia back."
"He did, until he ran out of ammo. He was forced to flee into the office area. I will admit, he has done some impressive techniques. He used his ragnasil powers to block the one entrance and it appears as if he's using some traps to demoralized the militia in the room. He's not going to last long though. He's out numbered forty to one and soon going to run out of rifle ammo.
A cold feeling shot down T'ko's spine. He had to act fast if he was going to save his friend's life. As luck would have it, the opportunity came almost immediately.
Markaus looked at the monitor. "It looks like the militia found another one of his messages. Oh wow! He blew up the light fixture! That's brilliant!" Markau's back was now fully turned toward T'ko and the mercenaries were watch the scene on the monitor as well.
T'ko didn't waste a second performing his move. He ripped through the rope binding his hands and took two knives from the back of his pants. He shoved the two knives into the hips of the two mercenaries to his side, who dropped T'ko's hand cannons. He caught them in mid-air and executed the two mercenaries. he then executed each of the mercenaries in front of him in rapid succession, right as they were about to respond. Finally, T'ko crossed the two hand cannons in front of him, the pistol grips touching, as he took aim at Markaus. Markaus turned around, his eyes wide in surprise. T'ko fired and the two rounds ripped through the drygona's chest.
T'ko got up and walked up to Markaus's body. "I'm sorry it had to end this way, but I have a mission to complete." he said somberly, then looked at the monitor. The militiamen were opening up on the cubicles. Surly, one was bound to find Kirek. T'ko ran to the controls and flipped the switch on the elevator power. He faced another dilemma, however. The hallway was being patrolled by mercenaries and militia, who would kill T'ko on sight. This called for some improvisation.
T'ko walked over to the intercom on the control panel beneath the monitors. After facing Markaus several times before, he had created a pretty good impression of the Drygonian accent, mocking his voice with Kirek during downtime in missions. Now it would face the the ultimate test.
T'ko coughed to clear his throat and began to speak into the intercom. "Attention, compatriots! I am proud to announce that the two intruders have been neutralized and Skyrest has been secured for the most part. Now, with victory on the horizon, it is approaching noon. Please report to the cafeteria for lunch and further announcements. That is all." T'ko almost stopped there but deiced to add one last line to sell it. "Long live Cathorn!"
T'ko sighed and went over to fetch the rest of his belongings as he waited for the patrols to leave the hallway out side the room. Hopefully, his plan had worked and he wasn't too late to save his partner and best friend.


Kirek sat on the floor of the cubicle, mediating in total peace, despite the gunfire ripping through the cubicles around him. He was concentrating all his anger and rage into one single force. He was charging himself.
A round past through the wall Kirek was mediating in and was on track to going through his head. At the last possible second, Kirek sensed and caught the round in mid-air with his mind, flicked it out of the cubicle, and went back to his mediation.
The metallic twang of the round hitting the hard floor caught the attention of a nearby militiaman, who went to investigate. He found the discarded round on the ground and turned, to find the snow-grey kayan sitting on the floor, legs crossed. He raised his rifle, ready to fire into him, thinking Kirek hadn't noticed him. He was dead wrong.
Kirek eyes opened wide, his regular winter blue eyes now resembling indigo fire. He was overcharged. Kirek flicked his wrist up, sending the militia man up into the ceiling, then back down with a bone shattering thud. Kirek then stood up slowly up and walked out of the cubicle.
Being overcharged was Kirek's ultimate form when using his powers. Ragnaweir energy flowed through his body like water through a river, allowing him to be free in his powers. It did have a consequence, however. The Ragnaweir energy burned through his body rapidly, sapping every every bit of energy he had. Not only that but it heated up his body as well. If he held it for too long, he would go into severe heat stroke. It usually felt like he was on fire, but this time he was strangely soothed by the heat, maybe because he knew that this was his last fight he would ever participate in, his last stand. He was a ticking time bomb, and he was going to take ever last militia on the floor with him.
Kirek walked forward down the lane of cubicles. A couple of militiamen dashed towards Kirek to investigate what happened to the first militiaman. They saw Kirek walking towards them, and they readied themselves to take him down. Kirek brought his arms back, pulling the two militiamen towards him. He looked at them closely. Both were paralyzed with fear. "Hello, gents." Kirek greeted coldly. The two, militia painfully turned their heads towards each other, terrified. Kirek flicked them back with tremendous force, their bodies toppling over the wall. Five more militia appeared on the other side, ready to engage. Kirek lifted and catapulted them over his head, as if they were small . He quicken the pace of his stride, feeling his energy starting to drain.
As he went around the next corner, he found eleven militia in firing squad position, five crouched in front and six standing in the back. They wasted no time opening fire on Kirek. Hundreds of bullets streamed out of their guns, ensuring the death of the kayan in front of them. Imagine their horror when the smoke cleared and they discovered Kirek still standing, a wicked smile on his face and the bullets suspended in mid air in front of him.
Kirek dropped the bullets, making a loud clanging that echoed in the large room. "My turn." He whispered.
Kirek sent out a violet ragnaweir band that wrapped around the waist of one of the militia in the back then pulled him towards himself. When he came within two feet of him, Kirek gave a mighty kick, sending the militiaman flying back, toppling his comrades like bowling pins. Before they could get back up, Kirek stomped the ground, suspending them in a strange field of weightlessness. Kirek took his rifle off his back and took aim at the easy prey, shooting each down. Kirek moved on, but now in a light run.
As he made his way, down his current lane, he saw the heads of three militia running down the next lane to intercept him. With is rifle still in hand, he fired three shots and transfused them with some ragnaweir energy. The rounds flew straight across the lane, then curved around the corner and hit all three targets in the head.
Finally, Kirek made it to remains of his funnel he made just fifteen minutes earlier. The militia captain was getting his eye bandaged when he saw Kirek emerge. "NO! Kill him!" He ordered to the six remaining militiamen. The militiamen followed order and started to engage. Kirek was way ahead of them. Kirek picked up a cubicle panel and shot it at the first militiaman he saw. He then lifted a computer monitor and swung it around his head like a flail. He used it to take out the next three, with the third militia's head being thick enough to break the monitor upon impact to his skull. He then lifted the next two up and smacked them into one another. Finally, Kirek tossed the captain back int the door, which appeared to break his spine. With all the militia dead, Kirek fulfilled his mission. He took a deep breath and released his energy. Kirek toppled to the floor, on the verge of death himself.
What Kirek didn't expect were the two militia kirek had smashed together to get right back up. First one got up shocked his head, helped his comrade up, then both walked up to Kirek. "The big bad kayan is all out of energy it seems. Lets make him suffer." Said one of them
Kirek lied on the floor, his eyes widening. Kirek struggled to move, but it was no use. He had no energy left to move.
One of the militiamen kicked Kirek in the stomach. Kirek winced and tried to curl his back but the second guy kicked his spine. Kirek screamed at the top of his lungs.
"You killed my brother!" Said the first militiaman, as he started to pound on Kirek's head.
"You dare challenged slaughtered hundreds of my brothers down this path!" Said the second, then kicked Kirek in the crotch. Kirek reacted by sending his head upwards, knocking the first one in the nose.
"GAH! He bwoke my noes!" he shouted
"Quit whining!" The second one said, then took out his handgun. "Its time for you to face your maker." He said.
The second one got up as well, standing next to his comrade,"ya, yoo gon ya die, bwinch!".
Right before the militiaamn could fire, a ding rang behind the three of them, followed by a gunshot. Kirek watched as the militia with the broken nose, rolled his eyes into his head, as a round emerged on the other side of his skull.
"What the hell!" The remaining militiaman exclaimed, then flew back as a burst of rounds hit his chest.
"Kirek laid on the floor, extremely confused. Then it all came together as black felic emerged from behind.
"Kirek, are you all right?" T'ko asked urgently. He looked around the room. There was about two hundred bodies lying dead on the floor. "You did one heck of a job here." He remarked
"Thanks. Help me up." Kirek said weakly. Just as T'ko extended a hand, five shots whizzed past them both. Kirek turned his head to see the militia captain firing his rifle from the hip. The loss of vision in his left eye severely affected his aim.
T'ko drew his hand cannon, but Kirek stopped him. Kirek's eyes lit back up and somehow found a last bit of energy. "Hodl on T'ko. He's mine."
Kirek got up on his own and lifted the militia captain by two vertebrae in his neck. The captain struggled, feeling his neck like two hands gripped him. Kirek walked towards him, two of his fingers crossed over one another, each controlling a vertebrae. Kirek got in the captain's face and asked him one question. "Are you scared?"
The captain struggled to speak, "Y-y-yes!" He finally choked out the word.
"Good." Kirek said darkly then spread his two fingers, breaking the captain's neck. He dropped the limp body, then fell over himself.
"Kirek!" T'ko shouted and ran over to his body. Kirek was unconscious, but still breathing. T'ko touched Kirek's body, but winced once he did. Kirek's body was red hot. Despite this, T'ko knew he had to get Kirek into the elevator before more reinforcements arrived. T'ko bit his lip and started to haul Kirek's body the seemingly long distance to the elevator. He plopped Kirek's body on the floor of the elevator. T'ko was just about to press the button to go up, when he thought of something to help Kirek's condition.
T'ko went back into the decrepit office and took a full water jug from the water cooler. Upon reentering the elevator, he screwed off the top of the jug and poured it over Kirek, then pressed the top floor button to get the elevator going.
Steam sizzled off of Kirek's body upon contact and Kirek started to wake up and pant. "Ahhhh! you have no idea how good that feels!" Kirek said, very soothed. As he looked up at his partner, he found one thing unusually about his appearance. "Why are YOU wet?" he asked
"Umm...you know...when I was pouring it over you, I got some on me." T'ko lied, too embarrassed to say that he was capture and taken out by an inanimate object.
Kirek knew T'ko wasn't telling him something but he wasn't going to push the subject. So he asked something else. "What took you so long! I was nearly killed."
"Yeah, ditto to me as well. I got held up in the main hallway and it took me a while to fight my way through. Long story short, I unlocked the elevator controls and killed Markaus, once and for all."
"Well thats nice to hear. Now all we have to worry about the welcoming company once we get topside." Kirek said, a hint of worry in his voice.
"You have a plan?" T'ko asked.
"First tell me how long we have to be in hear."
"Well I counted six seconds per floor. That by one-hundred-and-fifty floors and it should take us about fourteen minutes in all. Awfully slow the an elevator to two-hundred-fifty story building, ehh?"
"Yeah I guess. Anyway, wake me in twelve minutes and I'll tell you my idea. Right now, I just want to rest and take in this Air conditioning."