What's taking him so long?
Ben was getting uncomfortable. The ship wasn't that large, he probably could have found the cargo area by shear guesswork by now. And that Viledarian heading towards the airlock is bad news for Omega. Ben moves to intercept, but is too far away to stop it. Ben follows it hoping he can get it before it can Catch up to Omega or warn the others. Unfortunately he was far enough behind that the could only catch glimpses as the Viledarian headed down the halls. Skidding around another corner, he just catches a glimpse of a door closing behind his target. Edging up to the door, he presses his ear against it listening for possible signs of a trap.
<”-under heavy assault. Prisoners aboard are mo-”>
Luck! That guy probably just led him to the commander! He quickly slaps in a clip of incendiary rounds and smacks the control to open the door. Jumping through the opening door, he is instantly greeted by surprised looks from two Viledarians, Omega, and a sea of children.
The children look fine? Omega isn't even fighting them?!?
<”WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?!?”> he blurts out. This wasn't making any sense.
Omega quickly puts a hand up, “Whoa! Ben! Don't shoot!”
“What's going on?!?”
“We got lucky. This ship is run by a splinter faction. They where trying to get these kids out of harms way.”
“...You mean allies?” Ben lowers his gun some.
This was pretty hard to believe. But Syrryxys had also been with them, and she had turned. There isn't such a thing as a truly evil race, so there was a good chance that a ship of good Viledarians could be here. He clicks the safety on and lowers the gun some more.
Suddenly a realization hits him that causes him to sit down hard.
“Oh, no. I didn't just...”
THE RP THREAD!!! *sparkle sparkle*
At the hospital, Syrryxys and Lauril continued their conversation.
“Yes,” she replied quietly. “For my part, yes, I forgive you. And I don’t think – I mean, you don’t seem like someone who would be willing to help them anymore.”
That earned Lauril another hug from the distraught fox. “Th-thank you!” she began to cry again, but these were tears of joy, not the tears of shame that had come a moment earlier. “Thank you, you don't know what that means to me.” She fell back into her bed, giving the chipmunk a little breathing space.
“My homeworld is called Vulpes prime, the seat of power for the Vulpinian Combine. My father served Senator Renquhart, one of the most influential men in the combine.” She sighed “I grew up among all the trappings of wealth and power, but there was forever a sheet of glass between myself and that what they taught me was beautiful.”
She looked at Lauril, “Vulpes prime really was a beautiful world, rolling hills covered in green scythe grass, the tall straight Kahrzin trees, fuzzy Mrrgrash plants, and all the wildlife, but it all seemed so artificial.”
Seeing the chipmunk's confused / curious expression Syr continued; “Vulpinians as a whole are a race of artisans. Once the fight for survival had ended, Vulpinia turned its energy towards making things of beauty. It started out simply enough, with people making their life spaces beautiful to behold, but pride began to creep in. Somehow the definition of beauty itself seemed to be lost as artists vied with each other to make grander and grander projects. The mountains themselves fell before the carving paw of the artistic fox.”
Lauril settled herself a little more comfortably onto the edge of the bed as she listened bemusedly to Syr. She wasn’t sure yet how exactly this connected to anything, but she figured that it must have been part of whatever had been troubling the vulpine so much. Let’s see... get attacked by scary monster aliens – check. Get taken to the hospital with your leg hurt and wake up to find it healed – check. Share reflecting-on-memories time with the alien fox stranger who happens to be sharing your hospital room – check. I think I’m well on my way to fulfilling the “Things to Do If You Want to Have the Weirdest Day Ever” checklist. …But I’m not paying attention. Stop your mind-wandering and listen, child! She turned her attention back to Syr.
Then the fox paused and seemed to be waiting for some sort of reply. Still unsure how what she’d just heard fit into the whole, Lauril cast about uncertainly for something to say. “I grew up in a family of artists,” she commented finally. “It was actually pretty fun – there was never a lack of art supplies,” she smiled. “But I do understand about unrealistic standards of beauty. Earth definitely has them, too, and they hurt a lot of people.”
Syr looked down at herself in the bed. “What started as a quest for beauty turned into ugliness and perversion”
Nervously she started to wad up her bed sheet. “ “Live life as though you were a work of art.” sounded so good, initially, but it led to something terrible. They corrupted the greatest commandment to be : “Love one another with all your heart, mind, body and self” Up until five days ago, I never realized just how deep that corruption was.” Syr closed her eyes and thought a moment, slowly she turned and looked at Lauril and looked at her. “As I grew up and learned more about my home, I realized that I hated it.”
“Yes,” she replied quietly. “For my part, yes, I forgive you. And I don’t think – I mean, you don’t seem like someone who would be willing to help them anymore.”
That earned Lauril another hug from the distraught fox. “Th-thank you!” she began to cry again, but these were tears of joy, not the tears of shame that had come a moment earlier. “Thank you, you don't know what that means to me.” She fell back into her bed, giving the chipmunk a little breathing space.
“My homeworld is called Vulpes prime, the seat of power for the Vulpinian Combine. My father served Senator Renquhart, one of the most influential men in the combine.” She sighed “I grew up among all the trappings of wealth and power, but there was forever a sheet of glass between myself and that what they taught me was beautiful.”
She looked at Lauril, “Vulpes prime really was a beautiful world, rolling hills covered in green scythe grass, the tall straight Kahrzin trees, fuzzy Mrrgrash plants, and all the wildlife, but it all seemed so artificial.”
Seeing the chipmunk's confused / curious expression Syr continued; “Vulpinians as a whole are a race of artisans. Once the fight for survival had ended, Vulpinia turned its energy towards making things of beauty. It started out simply enough, with people making their life spaces beautiful to behold, but pride began to creep in. Somehow the definition of beauty itself seemed to be lost as artists vied with each other to make grander and grander projects. The mountains themselves fell before the carving paw of the artistic fox.”
Lauril settled herself a little more comfortably onto the edge of the bed as she listened bemusedly to Syr. She wasn’t sure yet how exactly this connected to anything, but she figured that it must have been part of whatever had been troubling the vulpine so much. Let’s see... get attacked by scary monster aliens – check. Get taken to the hospital with your leg hurt and wake up to find it healed – check. Share reflecting-on-memories time with the alien fox stranger who happens to be sharing your hospital room – check. I think I’m well on my way to fulfilling the “Things to Do If You Want to Have the Weirdest Day Ever” checklist. …But I’m not paying attention. Stop your mind-wandering and listen, child! She turned her attention back to Syr.
Then the fox paused and seemed to be waiting for some sort of reply. Still unsure how what she’d just heard fit into the whole, Lauril cast about uncertainly for something to say. “I grew up in a family of artists,” she commented finally. “It was actually pretty fun – there was never a lack of art supplies,” she smiled. “But I do understand about unrealistic standards of beauty. Earth definitely has them, too, and they hurt a lot of people.”
Syr looked down at herself in the bed. “What started as a quest for beauty turned into ugliness and perversion”
Nervously she started to wad up her bed sheet. “ “Live life as though you were a work of art.” sounded so good, initially, but it led to something terrible. They corrupted the greatest commandment to be : “Love one another with all your heart, mind, body and self” Up until five days ago, I never realized just how deep that corruption was.” Syr closed her eyes and thought a moment, slowly she turned and looked at Lauril and looked at her. “As I grew up and learned more about my home, I realized that I hated it.”
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Calbeck
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Without warning, Roy's head poked out of a shrub not two feet away from the pit. "Dammit, Sky, it's 'cause of stuff like that we have trouble gettin' spare grenades around here..."Kerry Skydancer wrote: "Better tell us where your buddies are. If you're not going to be useful, I'll just stuff a grenade in your shorts and pull the pin."
The unicorn peered past the Ville into the pit. "What was that someone once said about followin' a rabbit down a hole?"
Slamming blindly into the opposite wall of the corridor, his senses reeling from the blows, a completely disoriented Şaaruuk struggled desperately to retain his footing. The armorsuit vidscreen imaging flickered in and out as the system rebooted itself. The process would take several seconds but it effectively kept him 'in the dark' and wouldn't allow the helmet to retract. A "safety" feature that under these circumstances could very well cost him his life.
Getting his feet back under him he started to stand up but again was hit with a staggering blow, this time to the chest, that sent him sliding down the corridor. The blow interrupted the reboot sequence and the system responded with a complete shutdown and restart....more time lost. Nothing would respond. None of the suit weapons or sensors were functional, even the link with the W'ykkryn had been severed.....he was totally on his own.
His senses clearing a bit, he lurched to a crouch and stopped moving completely. His breathing slowed, he actually closed his eyes in the darkened helmet..the flickering screen being a distraction..this let him 'see' better with his ears and tactile senses. He could hear movement coming toward him but could not distinguish who or what it was.
Massive shoulder and back muscles bunched, his claws extended to their full deadly length. At an abrupt sound in front of him, he tensed for an attack, but the sound changed to something above him and before he could respond someone, or something landed on his back clawing, biting and snarling, trying to tear it's way thru the glittering armor.
Instinctively he spun and slammed his back into the nearest wall trying to dislodge whatever it was on his back. The blow brought a somewhat satisfying yelp of pain from his attacker. Reaching around his left side he managed to grab a limb and break it as he pulled on it as hard as he could bringing it's owner around to his front. Claws slashing foreward he felt his hand go completely through his attacker. But before he could withdraw it several more sets of hand or paws or whaterver grabbed him trying to bring him back down to the deck.
Knowing he'd be doomed if that happened, the berserker rage started to boil up from deep within him. Struck from behind in a sneak attack, blind and obviously outnumbered in a fight for his life fed the rage. Suddenly the familiar ringing in his ears signaled the adrenalin dump that always preceded the rage, and with a howling roar that must have been heard thoughout the ship he lurched to his feet. He could feel at least 4 of them still hanging onto him and with his eyes still closed "saw" with his hands and began the grisly combat. Anything or anyone that touched him was immediately shredded, stabbed or crushed by those powerful hands and slashing claws. Slowly he began backing his way down the corridor not really knowing whether he was headed away from his attackers or right into their midst. He felt two sets of arms suddenly grab his legs as three more bodies tried to knock him down. Staggering under the onslaught he started to go down onto his back, two more piled onto his chest as others tried to hold his arms.
With a deafening shriek of pure animal rage, and a burst of supernatural strength he fought back with total abandon and indiscribable savagery. Lurching to his feet, he staggered backward, the severed torsos on his legs sliding to the deck. The deck itself becoming slick with the blood of his attackers made keeping his footing more and more difficult.
Three things suddenly happened at once....One....he slipped in the blood, lost his footing and started to fall backward....bad....Two...he was close enough to a bulkhead that it arrested his fall and gave him some measure of a defensive perimeter....good....Three....the suit completed it's reboot cycle and came online....it's first function...lower the helmet....good and NOT good!! He slammed into the bulkhead nearly head first, the back of his head solidly impacting the metal plating. Another explosion of stars and pain flashed thru his head as consciosness started to fade.
Another blow to the side of his face opened a gash in his muzzle splitting his upper lip completely thru to his gumline but also had the effect of bringing him back to full consciosness. The gash in his lip bleeding profusely, mixing his blood with that of his attackers
But what in the three moons of B'Thraan was attacking him??? As his eyes adjusted to the flickering lights he beheld this misshapen creature on his chest with one hand at his throat, the other drawn back for another slash, claws outstreatched. This was certainly no Viledarian. Slashing out with his own claws he severed both his attackers arms and bringing both hands in and straight back up took the head off the torso. As his blurred vision cleared and he could see, the odds were more in his favor.....more or less that is...he was still outnumbered by a fair margin...so he took the attack straight to them. Deciding to even out the odds a bit, he bought his wrist guns to bear and simply let loose a salvo right thru the center of the massed creatures clearing the corridor of at least living monsters. Being able to see again began to bring down the rage....the fight being more "fair" in his mind.
Suddenly, as quickly as it began, the survivors turned and disappeared back down the darkened corridor past the hatch to the holding pens.
*"Well, at least they're not going to harm the prisoners"*
Raising the helmet so as not to frighten the prisoners any more than they already were, he stepped toward the hatchway to address the prisoners when some movement just on the edge of his peripheral vision caught his attention. He spun, weapons ready but there was no obvious threat....the movement was coming from the corpses on the blood smeared deck. They seemed to be shrinking and changing shape. He'd killed at least a dozen or more, some of them nearly as big as he was. Huge, gnarled, contorted and deformed and they were shrinking.
Keeping an eye on the corridor as well as the hatchway, he watched in facination, which quickly turned into horrified disgust as the 'monsters' slowly changed.........back into the very people he had come to rescue!
*"This is why there weren't any guards.....they don't need them."* He silently fumed to himself. These pieces of k'caak were turning the people they'd abducted into these monsters to use them as what.....disposable weapons???? As his disgust grew, he began to understand Omega's and Seba's hatred of the Viledarians.
While he stood there mesmerized at both what he was seeing as well as angered at what he'd been forced to do, movement within the holding pen snapped him out of his reverie.
Three more prisoners were morphing into these pitiful creatures and were slowly making their way toward the hatch. Instinctively he brought his right arm up, plasma guns fully charged.
*"NO.....I'm not going to kill any more of them if I can help it....this isn't their fault."*
He quickly lowered his right arm and raised his left. Holding his fingers together in a 'spear' configuration, a bright yellow beam seemed to emenate from his extended hand centering on the 'leader' of advancing creatures. A bright green ring of energy formed at the "funnel" of the device just behind Şaaruuk's wrist and in an instant streaked down the yellow shaft of light striking the creature square in the chest......and knocking him nearly 8ft backward into the rest of them.
Triggering the 'bone-phone' Şaaruuk issued an all-call as he slammed the holding pen hatch shut and welded it closed with a couple of low power bolts from his wrist guns.
"Attention anyone within range of my voice.......we gotta problem.....a BIG one!"
Getting his feet back under him he started to stand up but again was hit with a staggering blow, this time to the chest, that sent him sliding down the corridor. The blow interrupted the reboot sequence and the system responded with a complete shutdown and restart....more time lost. Nothing would respond. None of the suit weapons or sensors were functional, even the link with the W'ykkryn had been severed.....he was totally on his own.
His senses clearing a bit, he lurched to a crouch and stopped moving completely. His breathing slowed, he actually closed his eyes in the darkened helmet..the flickering screen being a distraction..this let him 'see' better with his ears and tactile senses. He could hear movement coming toward him but could not distinguish who or what it was.
Massive shoulder and back muscles bunched, his claws extended to their full deadly length. At an abrupt sound in front of him, he tensed for an attack, but the sound changed to something above him and before he could respond someone, or something landed on his back clawing, biting and snarling, trying to tear it's way thru the glittering armor.
Instinctively he spun and slammed his back into the nearest wall trying to dislodge whatever it was on his back. The blow brought a somewhat satisfying yelp of pain from his attacker. Reaching around his left side he managed to grab a limb and break it as he pulled on it as hard as he could bringing it's owner around to his front. Claws slashing foreward he felt his hand go completely through his attacker. But before he could withdraw it several more sets of hand or paws or whaterver grabbed him trying to bring him back down to the deck.
Knowing he'd be doomed if that happened, the berserker rage started to boil up from deep within him. Struck from behind in a sneak attack, blind and obviously outnumbered in a fight for his life fed the rage. Suddenly the familiar ringing in his ears signaled the adrenalin dump that always preceded the rage, and with a howling roar that must have been heard thoughout the ship he lurched to his feet. He could feel at least 4 of them still hanging onto him and with his eyes still closed "saw" with his hands and began the grisly combat. Anything or anyone that touched him was immediately shredded, stabbed or crushed by those powerful hands and slashing claws. Slowly he began backing his way down the corridor not really knowing whether he was headed away from his attackers or right into their midst. He felt two sets of arms suddenly grab his legs as three more bodies tried to knock him down. Staggering under the onslaught he started to go down onto his back, two more piled onto his chest as others tried to hold his arms.
With a deafening shriek of pure animal rage, and a burst of supernatural strength he fought back with total abandon and indiscribable savagery. Lurching to his feet, he staggered backward, the severed torsos on his legs sliding to the deck. The deck itself becoming slick with the blood of his attackers made keeping his footing more and more difficult.
Three things suddenly happened at once....One....he slipped in the blood, lost his footing and started to fall backward....bad....Two...he was close enough to a bulkhead that it arrested his fall and gave him some measure of a defensive perimeter....good....Three....the suit completed it's reboot cycle and came online....it's first function...lower the helmet....good and NOT good!! He slammed into the bulkhead nearly head first, the back of his head solidly impacting the metal plating. Another explosion of stars and pain flashed thru his head as consciosness started to fade.
Another blow to the side of his face opened a gash in his muzzle splitting his upper lip completely thru to his gumline but also had the effect of bringing him back to full consciosness. The gash in his lip bleeding profusely, mixing his blood with that of his attackers
But what in the three moons of B'Thraan was attacking him??? As his eyes adjusted to the flickering lights he beheld this misshapen creature on his chest with one hand at his throat, the other drawn back for another slash, claws outstreatched. This was certainly no Viledarian. Slashing out with his own claws he severed both his attackers arms and bringing both hands in and straight back up took the head off the torso. As his blurred vision cleared and he could see, the odds were more in his favor.....more or less that is...he was still outnumbered by a fair margin...so he took the attack straight to them. Deciding to even out the odds a bit, he bought his wrist guns to bear and simply let loose a salvo right thru the center of the massed creatures clearing the corridor of at least living monsters. Being able to see again began to bring down the rage....the fight being more "fair" in his mind.
Suddenly, as quickly as it began, the survivors turned and disappeared back down the darkened corridor past the hatch to the holding pens.
*"Well, at least they're not going to harm the prisoners"*
Raising the helmet so as not to frighten the prisoners any more than they already were, he stepped toward the hatchway to address the prisoners when some movement just on the edge of his peripheral vision caught his attention. He spun, weapons ready but there was no obvious threat....the movement was coming from the corpses on the blood smeared deck. They seemed to be shrinking and changing shape. He'd killed at least a dozen or more, some of them nearly as big as he was. Huge, gnarled, contorted and deformed and they were shrinking.
Keeping an eye on the corridor as well as the hatchway, he watched in facination, which quickly turned into horrified disgust as the 'monsters' slowly changed.........back into the very people he had come to rescue!
*"This is why there weren't any guards.....they don't need them."* He silently fumed to himself. These pieces of k'caak were turning the people they'd abducted into these monsters to use them as what.....disposable weapons???? As his disgust grew, he began to understand Omega's and Seba's hatred of the Viledarians.
While he stood there mesmerized at both what he was seeing as well as angered at what he'd been forced to do, movement within the holding pen snapped him out of his reverie.
Three more prisoners were morphing into these pitiful creatures and were slowly making their way toward the hatch. Instinctively he brought his right arm up, plasma guns fully charged.
*"NO.....I'm not going to kill any more of them if I can help it....this isn't their fault."*
He quickly lowered his right arm and raised his left. Holding his fingers together in a 'spear' configuration, a bright yellow beam seemed to emenate from his extended hand centering on the 'leader' of advancing creatures. A bright green ring of energy formed at the "funnel" of the device just behind Şaaruuk's wrist and in an instant streaked down the yellow shaft of light striking the creature square in the chest......and knocking him nearly 8ft backward into the rest of them.
Triggering the 'bone-phone' Şaaruuk issued an all-call as he slammed the holding pen hatch shut and welded it closed with a couple of low power bolts from his wrist guns.
"Attention anyone within range of my voice.......we gotta problem.....a BIG one!"
Last edited by Sharuuk on Tue Oct 31, 2006 8:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
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BrockthePaine
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Spacewolfomega
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Mac watched as the cargo door for the scout ship slowly opened and children began leaving.
“What the...?!?! Look at that! They’re all kids! What the heck were the Viledarians going to do to them?”
He watched as Hope and Xenda rushed to the children, helping to round them up and usher them to the Wolfstar. Sebastis was watching the Viledarians, who had surrendered without much of a fight. Just then Aldar noticed something on his scanner.
“We’ve got some individuals making their way to our location,” he said to Omega over the communicator. “They’re moving rapidly and appear to be on foot.”
“Roger that,” Omega responded. “Keep me advised.” Omega made his way over to Ben, who was still slumped over. He was sobbing to himself. Omega placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you going to be alright?” he asked.
“I... I killed him!” Ben responded. “I thought he was the enemy... and I killed him! I tore him to shreds and... and...” As memories of the incident flooded his mind, Ben collapsed in a heap. Omega knelt down beside Ben and put his arm around him.
“It’s my fault... not yours,” Omega said. “I ordered their communications jammed. If I hadn’t done that, they could have told us what they were doing. I just didn’t want them to get off a signal... It’s my fault, Ben. Mine.”
Ben heard the words, but they offered little comfort. He had become a different person when he had attacked the Viledarian trooper. He hadn’t been in control. There was something malicious inside him, trying to break free... and who could say that it wouldn’t happen again? Or that more innocent people wouldn’t suffer because of it?
Aldar watched as the scanner showed the approaching individuals. They were moving awfully fast to be Viledarian troopers... even too fast for escaping prisoners. In either case, he was ready with the Wolfstar’s weapon systems in case it turned out to be a threat. The dots on the scanner kept getting closer and closer, until...
Suddenly five figures burst into the clearing... horrible monstrosities like something out of a horror story. They leapt and snarled as they raced toward the scout ship... and the now scattering and screaming children. Hope and Xenda struggled to keep them together, trying to usher them to the Wolfstar. Aldar reacted quickly, firing and bringing down two of the attackers, but the remaining three managed to get in too close for Aldar to risk a shot.
As one of the mutants closed in on a child who had tripped, it prepared for the final strike and was met by Sebastis’ staff to its head. “Leave... her... alone!” she growled.
“What the...?!?! Look at that! They’re all kids! What the heck were the Viledarians going to do to them?”
He watched as Hope and Xenda rushed to the children, helping to round them up and usher them to the Wolfstar. Sebastis was watching the Viledarians, who had surrendered without much of a fight. Just then Aldar noticed something on his scanner.
“We’ve got some individuals making their way to our location,” he said to Omega over the communicator. “They’re moving rapidly and appear to be on foot.”
“Roger that,” Omega responded. “Keep me advised.” Omega made his way over to Ben, who was still slumped over. He was sobbing to himself. Omega placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you going to be alright?” he asked.
“I... I killed him!” Ben responded. “I thought he was the enemy... and I killed him! I tore him to shreds and... and...” As memories of the incident flooded his mind, Ben collapsed in a heap. Omega knelt down beside Ben and put his arm around him.
“It’s my fault... not yours,” Omega said. “I ordered their communications jammed. If I hadn’t done that, they could have told us what they were doing. I just didn’t want them to get off a signal... It’s my fault, Ben. Mine.”
Ben heard the words, but they offered little comfort. He had become a different person when he had attacked the Viledarian trooper. He hadn’t been in control. There was something malicious inside him, trying to break free... and who could say that it wouldn’t happen again? Or that more innocent people wouldn’t suffer because of it?
Aldar watched as the scanner showed the approaching individuals. They were moving awfully fast to be Viledarian troopers... even too fast for escaping prisoners. In either case, he was ready with the Wolfstar’s weapon systems in case it turned out to be a threat. The dots on the scanner kept getting closer and closer, until...
Suddenly five figures burst into the clearing... horrible monstrosities like something out of a horror story. They leapt and snarled as they raced toward the scout ship... and the now scattering and screaming children. Hope and Xenda struggled to keep them together, trying to usher them to the Wolfstar. Aldar reacted quickly, firing and bringing down two of the attackers, but the remaining three managed to get in too close for Aldar to risk a shot.
As one of the mutants closed in on a child who had tripped, it prepared for the final strike and was met by Sebastis’ staff to its head. “Leave... her... alone!” she growled.
Check out my artwork! http://www.spacewolfomega.deviantart.com
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Fusion
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The gunfire from the Wolfstar snaps Ben out of his self searching with a start. Jumping to his feet, he runs out of the cargo bay definitely not prepared for what's before him. Three figures that looked like they had jumped out of Doom where closing in on the children.
With his instincts screaming at him to attack and his emotions warning of the possibility of killing another innocent person, all he finds himself able to do is stand there.
Suddenly one of the kids trips and one of the mutants closed in for the kill only to be knocked down by Seba's quick action.
Protect the children!
His sword flashes out as he charges at the mutants. One notices him coming and turns to attack him. Ben sidesteps quickly feeling the blow skim the fur on his shoulder. A quick swing with the flat of his blade connects with the back of the mutant's head, but the thing hardly seems to notice! Ben quickly prepares for his next blow but stops dead as he realizes his sword is positioned edge first. His hesitation is not lost on his opponent. Without time to recover from his attack preparation, the mutant's attack connects perfectly and sends him flying several feet. Head ringing from the blow, he looks up from where he lay hardly able to make out the blurry outline of the mutant.
With his instincts screaming at him to attack and his emotions warning of the possibility of killing another innocent person, all he finds himself able to do is stand there.
Suddenly one of the kids trips and one of the mutants closed in for the kill only to be knocked down by Seba's quick action.
Protect the children!
His sword flashes out as he charges at the mutants. One notices him coming and turns to attack him. Ben sidesteps quickly feeling the blow skim the fur on his shoulder. A quick swing with the flat of his blade connects with the back of the mutant's head, but the thing hardly seems to notice! Ben quickly prepares for his next blow but stops dead as he realizes his sword is positioned edge first. His hesitation is not lost on his opponent. Without time to recover from his attack preparation, the mutant's attack connects perfectly and sends him flying several feet. Head ringing from the blow, he looks up from where he lay hardly able to make out the blurry outline of the mutant.
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Spacewolfomega
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Omega and the Viledarian rushed after Ben. Aldar was shouting over the comlink and it sounded like all hell had broken loose outside the scout ship. Omega got to the cargo door and his jaw dropped at the scene before him. The children were scattered everywhere as three monsters rushed through the crowd.
Two other monsters were lying still on the ground. Hope, Xenda, and the two mothers were attempting to gather as many of the children as they could, carrying them, holding hands, dragging them... desperately trying to reach the Wolfstar. Sebastis was trying to hold the active beasts off as the other children fled in random directions.
Omega pulled out his laspistol, but he could already see that there would be no way to get a truly clean shot in all the chaos without risking shooting one of the children. He imagined that Mac and Aldar were having the same trouble, which was why the Wolfstar had stopped firing.
One of the monsters leapt and landed in a mass of children, causing them to panic and scatter. Two of the children were backed up against a tree... a young kit and his older sister. The monster spotted them and turned on them, fangs dripping as it snarled. It crept closer... slowly... as the children screamed and cried.
“I’ve got to get over there!” Omega shouted and left the scout ship, running full tilt to get closer so he could get a clean shot.
The two children could feel the monster’s breath as it crept up next to them. The brother was crying freely while his older sister did the only thing she imagined she could. She turned her brother’s head away from the beast and buried his head against her neck. She had tried to be strong through everything just like mother had been when they were kidnapped... before they had been separated... and now maybe she could do the same for her brother.
“Shhh... it’ll be over soon...” she whispered, wincing her eyes... trying to prepare herself for the inevitable.
The beast growled low to itself as it savored this moment. But then... it stopped suddenly as a look of confusion crossed its face and its ears drooped. The older kit flinched as the monster brought its nose close and sniffed her. Omega came rushing up, laspistol drawn and prepared to fire.
But something made him stop... something about the monster... something as he noticed a tear rolling down its cheek.
Suddenly the monster lunged at the children, scooping them up in its arms, holding them close to it. And as the children shrieked, the monster lifted its head toward the sky and let out a piercing howl.
Two other monsters were lying still on the ground. Hope, Xenda, and the two mothers were attempting to gather as many of the children as they could, carrying them, holding hands, dragging them... desperately trying to reach the Wolfstar. Sebastis was trying to hold the active beasts off as the other children fled in random directions.
Omega pulled out his laspistol, but he could already see that there would be no way to get a truly clean shot in all the chaos without risking shooting one of the children. He imagined that Mac and Aldar were having the same trouble, which was why the Wolfstar had stopped firing.
One of the monsters leapt and landed in a mass of children, causing them to panic and scatter. Two of the children were backed up against a tree... a young kit and his older sister. The monster spotted them and turned on them, fangs dripping as it snarled. It crept closer... slowly... as the children screamed and cried.
“I’ve got to get over there!” Omega shouted and left the scout ship, running full tilt to get closer so he could get a clean shot.
The two children could feel the monster’s breath as it crept up next to them. The brother was crying freely while his older sister did the only thing she imagined she could. She turned her brother’s head away from the beast and buried his head against her neck. She had tried to be strong through everything just like mother had been when they were kidnapped... before they had been separated... and now maybe she could do the same for her brother.
“Shhh... it’ll be over soon...” she whispered, wincing her eyes... trying to prepare herself for the inevitable.
The beast growled low to itself as it savored this moment. But then... it stopped suddenly as a look of confusion crossed its face and its ears drooped. The older kit flinched as the monster brought its nose close and sniffed her. Omega came rushing up, laspistol drawn and prepared to fire.
But something made him stop... something about the monster... something as he noticed a tear rolling down its cheek.
Suddenly the monster lunged at the children, scooping them up in its arms, holding them close to it. And as the children shrieked, the monster lifted its head toward the sky and let out a piercing howl.
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Making sure the hatch to the holding pens was secruly welded the huge B'Thraanti ran to the far end of the corridor. He was badly winded and winced slightly at the sharp pain in his right side. Even if his metallic bones couldn't be broken, he could still sustain a fair amount of soft tissue and deep organ trauma. Another side effect of the armorsuit cold start-up sequence was that the suit, while still virtually impenetrable, no longer had the autocoelescence that instantly hardened the suit at points of impact. Even if it couldn't be penetrated, it still transmitted the blunt force impact trauma to it's wearer. From the blows he'd taken, the suit might just have well been made of leather or heavy cloth.
Reaching the hatchway he slammed the airtight door shut and welded it in place as well. Making his way back past the pen hatch, he stepped thru the hatch he entered at the beginning, closed and welded it from the outside. Fortunetly, the holding pen was the only other hatch in this short passageway and that made securing it much easier.
Leaning tiredly against the wall he again activated the bone-fone.....
*Attention anyone who can hear me.....the Villies have been mutating the people they've abducted into monstrosities to use as expendable weapons. I think several may have gotten off the barge. I repeat, the Villies have been turning the abductees into virtually mindless killing machines. Try to stop them without killing them if you can....it won't be easy..but these monsters are NOT the real enemy.....Şaaruuk out"*
With a deep breath he again headed down the darkening passageway, this time heading down a side passage, this one taking him deeper and deeper, deck by deck into the bowels of the ship. His senses on full alert and the suit's systems functioning perfectly, he could now "see" in both IR and TI, the suit perimeter sensors on max covering his back and flanks.....he was determined to not be taken by surprise again. The only thing was that he had a roaring headache and couldn't get the taste of blood out of his mouth.....and what was making the back of his neck feel so sticky and itchy?
Scanning the deck, he could see the remnants of the heat signatures of several pairs of feet that had come this way. By the faintness of them though, it had been at least a half hour ago....that is all except one brightly glowing set of footprints that could only be a few minutes old. They were heading past and behind him and he tracked them right to another hatch in the wall much like the one on the holding pens except this one had a far more sophisticated personal biometric code type lock on it.
Glancing up and down the corridor he was again aware of the fact that even though he'd covered over a hundred yards, he'd not seen a single Villie guard other than the 4 he killed upon entry and the two "floaters" outside.....even after the fracas 3 decks up.
Dialing up the thermal imaging he scanned the wall for any telltale heat source that might be the actual locking mechanism for this particular hatch. It was definitely a far higher security hatch than he'd previously seen so whatever was behind it had to be important. The trick, of course would be to breach it without alerting the whole ship......10 min of scanning all sides of the hull surrounding the hatch showed that was not going to be the case. Locating what was probably the power supply to the magnetic locks and the bioscanner he lined up his wrist guns, dialed up the power and cut loose with a couple of rounds.
The flash and blast in the confines of the narrow corridor was astounding to say the least.
*"Well, if they haven't figured out I'm here after the ruckus above, they sure have now."* He thought wryly to himself.
As the hatch slid open and he saw the interior of the room, had he not been wearing the fully enveloping helmet, his lower jaw would have certainly hit the floor.
Reaching the hatchway he slammed the airtight door shut and welded it in place as well. Making his way back past the pen hatch, he stepped thru the hatch he entered at the beginning, closed and welded it from the outside. Fortunetly, the holding pen was the only other hatch in this short passageway and that made securing it much easier.
Leaning tiredly against the wall he again activated the bone-fone.....
*Attention anyone who can hear me.....the Villies have been mutating the people they've abducted into monstrosities to use as expendable weapons. I think several may have gotten off the barge. I repeat, the Villies have been turning the abductees into virtually mindless killing machines. Try to stop them without killing them if you can....it won't be easy..but these monsters are NOT the real enemy.....Şaaruuk out"*
With a deep breath he again headed down the darkening passageway, this time heading down a side passage, this one taking him deeper and deeper, deck by deck into the bowels of the ship. His senses on full alert and the suit's systems functioning perfectly, he could now "see" in both IR and TI, the suit perimeter sensors on max covering his back and flanks.....he was determined to not be taken by surprise again. The only thing was that he had a roaring headache and couldn't get the taste of blood out of his mouth.....and what was making the back of his neck feel so sticky and itchy?
Scanning the deck, he could see the remnants of the heat signatures of several pairs of feet that had come this way. By the faintness of them though, it had been at least a half hour ago....that is all except one brightly glowing set of footprints that could only be a few minutes old. They were heading past and behind him and he tracked them right to another hatch in the wall much like the one on the holding pens except this one had a far more sophisticated personal biometric code type lock on it.
Glancing up and down the corridor he was again aware of the fact that even though he'd covered over a hundred yards, he'd not seen a single Villie guard other than the 4 he killed upon entry and the two "floaters" outside.....even after the fracas 3 decks up.
Dialing up the thermal imaging he scanned the wall for any telltale heat source that might be the actual locking mechanism for this particular hatch. It was definitely a far higher security hatch than he'd previously seen so whatever was behind it had to be important. The trick, of course would be to breach it without alerting the whole ship......10 min of scanning all sides of the hull surrounding the hatch showed that was not going to be the case. Locating what was probably the power supply to the magnetic locks and the bioscanner he lined up his wrist guns, dialed up the power and cut loose with a couple of rounds.
The flash and blast in the confines of the narrow corridor was astounding to say the least.
*"Well, if they haven't figured out I'm here after the ruckus above, they sure have now."* He thought wryly to himself.
As the hatch slid open and he saw the interior of the room, had he not been wearing the fully enveloping helmet, his lower jaw would have certainly hit the floor.
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BrockthePaine
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Gil looked down at the prisoner as he heard Sharuuk's warning. "I don't suppose you'd know anything about this little 'experiment', do you... uh... what's your name?"
"I'm Sergeant Blaghavist," the Viledarian said.
"Nevermind, I won't be able to pronounce that," Gil said. "Let alone SPELL it for the novelization I plan to write about all this. How does 'Bob' sound?"
"But my name is-"
"That's great, Bob. So do you know anything about these experiments, Sergeant Bob?"
"I'm Sergeant Blaghavist," the Viledarian said.
"Nevermind, I won't be able to pronounce that," Gil said. "Let alone SPELL it for the novelization I plan to write about all this. How does 'Bob' sound?"
"But my name is-"
"That's great, Bob. So do you know anything about these experiments, Sergeant Bob?"
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Spacewolfomega
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Omega’s fur stood on end and he visibly shook. There was something in the creature's howl... something so forlorn that there was no way it couldn't have shaken him to his core. Finally, logic stepped back in and trembling he raised his laspistol, unsure of whether to fire or not. A large, green hand lowered his arm.
"No," the Viledarian said, sadly. "Don't shoot. I think it's going to be okay."
Unable to take his eyes off the scene, Omega simply spoke without turning to face the Viledarian.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I believe... I believe that is the children's mother..."
Omega turned and faced him, whispering. "By the Great Alpha... what did you say?"
The Viledarian lowered his head. "That was what the experiments were all about at the prison camp. Kidnapping the local residents and attempting to create mutant warriors... some kind of bioengineered monstrosity. We did our best to delay the procedures... Finally, we decided on a plan to evacuate the children and spare them this horror."
Sebastis had come flying up to the scene and was removing the children from the creature's grasp. The children clung to Sebastis for dear life, terrified. The creature merely watched in sorrow, its ears drooped and a hint of resign in its eyes. The creature... their mother... watched as her children were taken away. She sank to her haunches and wept.
"What about the adults?" Omega asked.
"We couldn't act openly," the Viledarian tried to explain, himself feeling that his actions had been inadequate. "We tried our best... sabotaging the experiments..."
"Couldn't you have warned someone or let us know where you were?" Omega demanded.
"I did," the Viledarian answered.
"Lauril..." Omega thought aloud. "You're the same one who freed Lauril."
“Yes...”
“Did they experiment on her?” Omega demanded. “Is she going to be alright?”
“I rescued her before they had a chance. At great personal risk to myself... I was almost discovered. But I had to get her to you... so you could come and end this once and for all...”
"No," the Viledarian said, sadly. "Don't shoot. I think it's going to be okay."
Unable to take his eyes off the scene, Omega simply spoke without turning to face the Viledarian.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I believe... I believe that is the children's mother..."
Omega turned and faced him, whispering. "By the Great Alpha... what did you say?"
The Viledarian lowered his head. "That was what the experiments were all about at the prison camp. Kidnapping the local residents and attempting to create mutant warriors... some kind of bioengineered monstrosity. We did our best to delay the procedures... Finally, we decided on a plan to evacuate the children and spare them this horror."
Sebastis had come flying up to the scene and was removing the children from the creature's grasp. The children clung to Sebastis for dear life, terrified. The creature merely watched in sorrow, its ears drooped and a hint of resign in its eyes. The creature... their mother... watched as her children were taken away. She sank to her haunches and wept.
"What about the adults?" Omega asked.
"We couldn't act openly," the Viledarian tried to explain, himself feeling that his actions had been inadequate. "We tried our best... sabotaging the experiments..."
"Couldn't you have warned someone or let us know where you were?" Omega demanded.
"I did," the Viledarian answered.
"Lauril..." Omega thought aloud. "You're the same one who freed Lauril."
“Yes...”
“Did they experiment on her?” Omega demanded. “Is she going to be alright?”
“I rescued her before they had a chance. At great personal risk to myself... I was almost discovered. But I had to get her to you... so you could come and end this once and for all...”
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Fusion
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Xenda isn't sure what to think now that mutants suddenly stopped attacking. It seemed to sudden. Taking advantage of the situations, she quickly begins helping Hope gather the children together again and herding them into the Wolfstar. The image of Ben being sent flying by that thing was eating at her mind the whole time though. Barely waiting for all the children to get in the Wolfstar, she runs over to where Ben landed. Unconscious.
“Oh, come on Ben! You can't stay out here!” she tries to shake him awake.
No luck. With the mutants still nearby, they had to get somewhere safe. After a failed attempt to carry him, she starts slowly dragging him to the Wolfstar. What happenes next catches her completely off guard. One of the mutants walks up to Ben and picks him up!
“Hey! What are you doing?!? Put him down!” she punches the thing hysterically.
The mutant stops and turns to look at her.
“...rrrus rrraakinn himmm rrroo rhhhe sshhiip,” she could only stand wide eyed as the thing's tortured speech reaches her ears. “Iiiisss rrahh nnohh wwaahh yooou whaannred?”
“Yes, but...” What had happened to these things? They where mindless killers just a few minutes ago! “What is happening? Why where you attacking us if you didn't mean any harm?”
“WWWee hhould oonnlly ssssee wwwhahh waasss hhhaappeenninne. Hhouldn'h hhreak rhee hhaase uff rraiin and aannghherrr.”
She wasn't sure, but she though she could see tears forming in it's eyes as it turns and begins to walk towards the Wolfstar again.
“Oh, come on Ben! You can't stay out here!” she tries to shake him awake.
No luck. With the mutants still nearby, they had to get somewhere safe. After a failed attempt to carry him, she starts slowly dragging him to the Wolfstar. What happenes next catches her completely off guard. One of the mutants walks up to Ben and picks him up!
“Hey! What are you doing?!? Put him down!” she punches the thing hysterically.
The mutant stops and turns to look at her.
“...rrrus rrraakinn himmm rrroo rhhhe sshhiip,” she could only stand wide eyed as the thing's tortured speech reaches her ears. “Iiiisss rrahh nnohh wwaahh yooou whaannred?”
“Yes, but...” What had happened to these things? They where mindless killers just a few minutes ago! “What is happening? Why where you attacking us if you didn't mean any harm?”
“WWWee hhould oonnlly ssssee wwwhahh waasss hhhaappeenninne. Hhouldn'h hhreak rhee hhaase uff rraiin and aannghherrr.”
She wasn't sure, but she though she could see tears forming in it's eyes as it turns and begins to walk towards the Wolfstar again.
Lauril’s attention perked a bit at Syr’s mention of the corrupted greatest commandment, but the account seemed to be moving at a pace that lent itself to continuation, not interruption. She filed the reference away as interesting, and nodded encouragingly when Syr paused.
Syr’s antennae slightly twitched as she continued her story. “I guess I was the exception in many ways. For one thing I knew both my parents. On Vulpes prime, love is considered one of the highest forms of art. Couples give themselves to each other on a very casual basis. Offspring of such unions rarely are allowed to survive.” She shook her head “Art must be free of all constraints to be pure.”
Lauril frowned slightly. Free from ‘constraints.’ Children… ‘constraints.’ She shoved the thoughts aside. If she allowed herself to follow them, she wouldn’t be able to listen.
“Vulpinia turned inward, looking at itself for its own beauty.” Syr began to wad her sheet up a little tighter. “All that seemed to happen was that people began to care only for themselves. Art lost all meaning, it became only what the artist said it was. Anyone who tried to contradict the new order was branded backward, a fool, and a bigot. That was how the exile worlds came to be.”
Again, associations flitted through the chipmunk’s mind. This time memories of the art and art criticism she had encountered in college and curiosity about the ‘exile worlds’ vied with the words she was hearing for her attention. Then Syr’s eyes met hers, and their troubled expression drew her focus back.
“The only people left on Vulpes Prime that I admired were the soldiers. They were the only ones left that seemed to care about something larger than themselves.”
For a moment there was silence, and the chipmunk feared that the fox was waiting for her to speak. She wasn’t really sure… what to say. She looked across the room and fidgeted slightly, trying to think of something before the silence stretched on for too long. Soon, however, Syr continued.
“Then came the Viledarian incursion. General Hoppes warned us of Viledaria's expansionist tendencies. He said they were only interested in pillage and slavery. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Anyone disagreed. They thought Viledaria could be negotiated with.” Syr's eyes began to glisten with moisture. “My parents were part of the first “volunteer” party sent to negotiate with the Viledarians.” Syr looked down at her paws which now crushed the wadded sheet between them. “The Viledarians accepted our overture, alright. They listened to our delegation, accepted our gifts, then when the diplomatic vessel was in low orbit, they gave their final answer. They disabled the ship's engines and laughed as it plunged back into the atmosphere!”
Lauril gazed at Syr as she listened to the account, sadness, shock, and helplessness growing in her almost as one. Her mind flitted back to the conversation she had just had that afternoon… with two living, loving parents she would be seeing tomorrow. What could she say to something like this? She looked down from Syr’s face, her eyes falling to where the fox’s paws sat entangled with the bed sheet. Hesitantly, the chipmunk reached out a paw and placed it gently over the tangle. Looking back up, but not exactly meeting Syr’s eyes, Lauril finally managed, “I- I’m sorry…”
Syr blinked and two tears rolled down her muzzle. A small smile twitched the corner of her muzzle. “That's what the delegates from the SPCA and the Vulpinian council said too.”
At the words, Lauril’s stomach turned over. Oh, no, I always say the wrong thing! She was about to withdraw her paw in shame when the fox pulled her own out of the crumpled sheets and gripped it tightly. “Don't go, Lauril, please,” Syr blinked back more tears. “There's a difference, I can tell that you mean it. Your parents mean a lot to you as well.” She closed her eyes against more tears, drew a deep breath and went on.
“They wanted me to be part of the next delegation, as a sign of good faith, that we did not hold past mistakes against them. I couldn't believe that they were so stupid. The second ship would be completely unarmed to show our trust. I accepted, because I knew what I had to do.” The fox shuddered as she prepared herself to continue.
“The night before we left, I used my dad's access codes and copied all the military information from the senator Renquhart's computer, heh, there wasn't much there anyways I fit everything into my digital music player. I only had to delete two songs. Just to be vindictive I added the location of SPCA's headquarters as a primary military installation of supreme importance. I encrypted the files and had a suicide patch installed in my arm.”
“The delegation consisted of seven vulpinians. Three members of the high council, two representatives from the SPCA and myself. The pilot made seven. Eight hours into the flight there was a “malfunction” with the ship's atmospheric regenerators. Six went to sleep, but only one would ever wake up again. I dropped the pilot off at the last border station before leaving Vulpinian territory.” Syr's paws trembled. “I think he lived.”
“I used our diplomatic envoy status to speed our passage without questions. I would pilot the ship myself for the next month, alone, with the dead. Oh, did I mention that we had an onboard communications failure that permitted text messaging only as well?” Syr shook her head.
"I spent those three weeks training myself to be Viledarian. I built my body, trained myself in their culture, learned their combat styles. I emptied myself of everything my parents ever taught me was valuable. And then at the end of that time I made planetfall.”
Syr’s antennae slightly twitched as she continued her story. “I guess I was the exception in many ways. For one thing I knew both my parents. On Vulpes prime, love is considered one of the highest forms of art. Couples give themselves to each other on a very casual basis. Offspring of such unions rarely are allowed to survive.” She shook her head “Art must be free of all constraints to be pure.”
Lauril frowned slightly. Free from ‘constraints.’ Children… ‘constraints.’ She shoved the thoughts aside. If she allowed herself to follow them, she wouldn’t be able to listen.
“Vulpinia turned inward, looking at itself for its own beauty.” Syr began to wad her sheet up a little tighter. “All that seemed to happen was that people began to care only for themselves. Art lost all meaning, it became only what the artist said it was. Anyone who tried to contradict the new order was branded backward, a fool, and a bigot. That was how the exile worlds came to be.”
Again, associations flitted through the chipmunk’s mind. This time memories of the art and art criticism she had encountered in college and curiosity about the ‘exile worlds’ vied with the words she was hearing for her attention. Then Syr’s eyes met hers, and their troubled expression drew her focus back.
“The only people left on Vulpes Prime that I admired were the soldiers. They were the only ones left that seemed to care about something larger than themselves.”
For a moment there was silence, and the chipmunk feared that the fox was waiting for her to speak. She wasn’t really sure… what to say. She looked across the room and fidgeted slightly, trying to think of something before the silence stretched on for too long. Soon, however, Syr continued.
“Then came the Viledarian incursion. General Hoppes warned us of Viledaria's expansionist tendencies. He said they were only interested in pillage and slavery. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Anyone disagreed. They thought Viledaria could be negotiated with.” Syr's eyes began to glisten with moisture. “My parents were part of the first “volunteer” party sent to negotiate with the Viledarians.” Syr looked down at her paws which now crushed the wadded sheet between them. “The Viledarians accepted our overture, alright. They listened to our delegation, accepted our gifts, then when the diplomatic vessel was in low orbit, they gave their final answer. They disabled the ship's engines and laughed as it plunged back into the atmosphere!”
Lauril gazed at Syr as she listened to the account, sadness, shock, and helplessness growing in her almost as one. Her mind flitted back to the conversation she had just had that afternoon… with two living, loving parents she would be seeing tomorrow. What could she say to something like this? She looked down from Syr’s face, her eyes falling to where the fox’s paws sat entangled with the bed sheet. Hesitantly, the chipmunk reached out a paw and placed it gently over the tangle. Looking back up, but not exactly meeting Syr’s eyes, Lauril finally managed, “I- I’m sorry…”
Syr blinked and two tears rolled down her muzzle. A small smile twitched the corner of her muzzle. “That's what the delegates from the SPCA and the Vulpinian council said too.”
At the words, Lauril’s stomach turned over. Oh, no, I always say the wrong thing! She was about to withdraw her paw in shame when the fox pulled her own out of the crumpled sheets and gripped it tightly. “Don't go, Lauril, please,” Syr blinked back more tears. “There's a difference, I can tell that you mean it. Your parents mean a lot to you as well.” She closed her eyes against more tears, drew a deep breath and went on.
“They wanted me to be part of the next delegation, as a sign of good faith, that we did not hold past mistakes against them. I couldn't believe that they were so stupid. The second ship would be completely unarmed to show our trust. I accepted, because I knew what I had to do.” The fox shuddered as she prepared herself to continue.
“The night before we left, I used my dad's access codes and copied all the military information from the senator Renquhart's computer, heh, there wasn't much there anyways I fit everything into my digital music player. I only had to delete two songs. Just to be vindictive I added the location of SPCA's headquarters as a primary military installation of supreme importance. I encrypted the files and had a suicide patch installed in my arm.”
“The delegation consisted of seven vulpinians. Three members of the high council, two representatives from the SPCA and myself. The pilot made seven. Eight hours into the flight there was a “malfunction” with the ship's atmospheric regenerators. Six went to sleep, but only one would ever wake up again. I dropped the pilot off at the last border station before leaving Vulpinian territory.” Syr's paws trembled. “I think he lived.”
“I used our diplomatic envoy status to speed our passage without questions. I would pilot the ship myself for the next month, alone, with the dead. Oh, did I mention that we had an onboard communications failure that permitted text messaging only as well?” Syr shook her head.
"I spent those three weeks training myself to be Viledarian. I built my body, trained myself in their culture, learned their combat styles. I emptied myself of everything my parents ever taught me was valuable. And then at the end of that time I made planetfall.”
Last edited by Tbolt on Mon Nov 13, 2006 4:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Spacewolfomega
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The Viledarian started to walk away and join his fellows, but Omega called out to him.
"Wait," he said. "What's your name?"
"Thorkelgt."
The next words Omega would say were difficult. Not only had he never thought he could ever say these words to a Viledarian, but he had never called a Viledarian by name before. In his experience, a Viledarian name was only used to distinguish a higher-profile target from a lower-profile one.
"Thank you... Thorkelgt... for saving the children... for saving Lauril..."
Thorkelgt simply nodded. He seemed exhausted, yet relieved... as if a terrible weight had finally been lifted off of his shoulders. Omega could only imagine what it had been like for him, surrounded by his more hostile brethren, risking his neck at every turn, always looking over his shoulder. Being a prisoner at the hands of the Terrans must've seemed like a release for him. Omega stood watching Thorkelgt walk away, still stunned from everything he had just encountered. Soon Sebastis came flying over next to him.
“Are you alright, my love?” she asked, stroking his face and bring it close to hers.
He nodded slightly. Then a look of worry crossed his face and he looked deep into her eyes. “How about you? Is everything okay?” His hand instinctively went to her stomach.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied. “I told you... it’s still too soon for me to be out of action.”
They returned to the Wolfstar, where the children, the mutated prisoners and the Viledarians were all being loaded into the cargo bay. Ben had been carried inside by one of the mutants, with Xenda tending to him. Mac and Hope were helping with the children. Aldar was busy preparing the ship for flight.
“Where’s Thorkelgt?” Omega noticed, having thought that he had joined his fellows. The Viledarians seemed to know, but they simply bowed their heads. Omega left the Wolfstar, looking around and spotted him near the edge of the woods.
Thorkelgt stood under a large tree, digging with a shovel he had retrieved from the scout ship. Vargroth, the Viledarian who had been killed, lay next to him. He had been too young... brought up in an evil society... yet he had managed to see the light... and now this was his fate. Buried on an alien planet... light years from home.
As Thorkelgt reflected on this, he noticed a presence behind him. Tears rolling down his face, he turned... and there stood Omega with a shovel from the Wolfstar. With one glance, they shared the same pain.
"Wait," he said. "What's your name?"
"Thorkelgt."
The next words Omega would say were difficult. Not only had he never thought he could ever say these words to a Viledarian, but he had never called a Viledarian by name before. In his experience, a Viledarian name was only used to distinguish a higher-profile target from a lower-profile one.
"Thank you... Thorkelgt... for saving the children... for saving Lauril..."
Thorkelgt simply nodded. He seemed exhausted, yet relieved... as if a terrible weight had finally been lifted off of his shoulders. Omega could only imagine what it had been like for him, surrounded by his more hostile brethren, risking his neck at every turn, always looking over his shoulder. Being a prisoner at the hands of the Terrans must've seemed like a release for him. Omega stood watching Thorkelgt walk away, still stunned from everything he had just encountered. Soon Sebastis came flying over next to him.
“Are you alright, my love?” she asked, stroking his face and bring it close to hers.
He nodded slightly. Then a look of worry crossed his face and he looked deep into her eyes. “How about you? Is everything okay?” His hand instinctively went to her stomach.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied. “I told you... it’s still too soon for me to be out of action.”
They returned to the Wolfstar, where the children, the mutated prisoners and the Viledarians were all being loaded into the cargo bay. Ben had been carried inside by one of the mutants, with Xenda tending to him. Mac and Hope were helping with the children. Aldar was busy preparing the ship for flight.
“Where’s Thorkelgt?” Omega noticed, having thought that he had joined his fellows. The Viledarians seemed to know, but they simply bowed their heads. Omega left the Wolfstar, looking around and spotted him near the edge of the woods.
Thorkelgt stood under a large tree, digging with a shovel he had retrieved from the scout ship. Vargroth, the Viledarian who had been killed, lay next to him. He had been too young... brought up in an evil society... yet he had managed to see the light... and now this was his fate. Buried on an alien planet... light years from home.
As Thorkelgt reflected on this, he noticed a presence behind him. Tears rolling down his face, he turned... and there stood Omega with a shovel from the Wolfstar. With one glance, they shared the same pain.
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Şaaruuk stood in near open mouthed astonishment at the sight before him. It was a laboratory....a laboratory from the depths of Hell itself. Three rows of transparent cylinders, 3ft wide by 8ft high each filled with a greenish yellow liquid dominated the rear third of the room. Most horrifying of all were the bodies of some of the abductees suspended in the liquid with breathing masks on their faces and multiple tubes coming out of various parts of their bodies. Those in the farthest tubes had already begun the horrific changes to their bodies while the ones closest were still 'normal'.
Looking around the room a ghastly site greeted his eyes. One of the bodies, a young male cougar was on a sort of operating table and had been at first glance autopsied. A closer look revealed the restraints on the "patient" and by the look on his face, his chest had been opened and his organs removed while he was still alive and wide awake!
His anger began to escalate again as he walked from tube to tube looking at the wretched victims of this hidious attempt at bioengeneering. His reverie was broken by sounds coming from behind another biometrically locked hatch at the rear wall behind one bank of cylinders.
As he made his way toward the hatch, he passed a large sink with a mirror above it. A glance into the mirror brought him to an abrupt stop. His armorsuit was absolutlely covered in blood from the fight several decks above. He retacted the helmet and got an even bigger shock. His entire facial fur was blood soaked and matted, but his muzzle was blood caked and dripping off his chin. An instinctive sweep of his tongue over his muzzle brought a flash of pain and more bleeding as the gash in his lip re-opened. It was only then he became cognizant of the level of injury the mutant had inflicted. The 5+ inch long gash ran parallel to his muzzle but had gone completely thru, gaping open wide enough to clearly see his ink black gums with the contrasting glittering metallic teeth. As he stood there watching, his own blood, mixed with saliva, drooled from his chin in gooey strings onto his chest adding to the ghastly appearance he presented.
*There's no way on Earth any of these abductees would believe I was here to help them looking like this." He mused to himself as he began running water into the largest of the sinks.
Washing as much of the blood off his face as he could, and cleaning out the gash on his lip, he reached for his medkit only to find he was out of the nanocytes that had been so helpful in the previous battles. With a resigned sigh, he pulled out the alternative treatment. A chemical styptic, or more accurately, chemical cautery microspray. Holding the edges of the laceration together but puckered outward slightly, he steeled himself and applied the spray.
The flash of intense pain made him see stars again and nearly sent him to his knees. It felt as though he'd poured liquid fire into the wound. In a sense, he had. The chemicals immediately 'welded' the edges of the gash together and burn-sealed the open vessels to stop the bleeding. A good, quick battlefield treatment.....but usually far more painful than the injury itself.
Raising the helmet he found an emergency shower and managed to rinse off all the blood from the suit. As he walked toward the hatchway he was startled by a 'smack' on the side of the nearest tube. Looking at the tube he was amazed to see it's occupant had both hands against the inside wall of the tube.......and it was staring at him with desperate, pleading eyes.
Looking around the room a ghastly site greeted his eyes. One of the bodies, a young male cougar was on a sort of operating table and had been at first glance autopsied. A closer look revealed the restraints on the "patient" and by the look on his face, his chest had been opened and his organs removed while he was still alive and wide awake!
His anger began to escalate again as he walked from tube to tube looking at the wretched victims of this hidious attempt at bioengeneering. His reverie was broken by sounds coming from behind another biometrically locked hatch at the rear wall behind one bank of cylinders.
As he made his way toward the hatch, he passed a large sink with a mirror above it. A glance into the mirror brought him to an abrupt stop. His armorsuit was absolutlely covered in blood from the fight several decks above. He retacted the helmet and got an even bigger shock. His entire facial fur was blood soaked and matted, but his muzzle was blood caked and dripping off his chin. An instinctive sweep of his tongue over his muzzle brought a flash of pain and more bleeding as the gash in his lip re-opened. It was only then he became cognizant of the level of injury the mutant had inflicted. The 5+ inch long gash ran parallel to his muzzle but had gone completely thru, gaping open wide enough to clearly see his ink black gums with the contrasting glittering metallic teeth. As he stood there watching, his own blood, mixed with saliva, drooled from his chin in gooey strings onto his chest adding to the ghastly appearance he presented.
*There's no way on Earth any of these abductees would believe I was here to help them looking like this." He mused to himself as he began running water into the largest of the sinks.
Washing as much of the blood off his face as he could, and cleaning out the gash on his lip, he reached for his medkit only to find he was out of the nanocytes that had been so helpful in the previous battles. With a resigned sigh, he pulled out the alternative treatment. A chemical styptic, or more accurately, chemical cautery microspray. Holding the edges of the laceration together but puckered outward slightly, he steeled himself and applied the spray.
The flash of intense pain made him see stars again and nearly sent him to his knees. It felt as though he'd poured liquid fire into the wound. In a sense, he had. The chemicals immediately 'welded' the edges of the gash together and burn-sealed the open vessels to stop the bleeding. A good, quick battlefield treatment.....but usually far more painful than the injury itself.
Raising the helmet he found an emergency shower and managed to rinse off all the blood from the suit. As he walked toward the hatchway he was startled by a 'smack' on the side of the nearest tube. Looking at the tube he was amazed to see it's occupant had both hands against the inside wall of the tube.......and it was staring at him with desperate, pleading eyes.
Last edited by Sharuuk on Thu Nov 16, 2006 8:48 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Spacewolfomega
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Once Vargroth was buried, Omega and Thorkelgt stood in silence. Omega didn’t know what to say. It had been his decision to jam the Viledarians’ transmission... a transmission that could have averted this entire mess. He knew that Ben would bear the brunt of this pain and that made it that much harder. He had made the best decision he could under the circumstances. At least that’s what he kept telling himself... but it didn’t make the guilt go away any easier.
“Will you...” Thorkelgt began, but his voice broke. He started again. “Will you pray with me?”
“Of course,” Omega replied, almost in a whisper, as they each dropped to one knee.
“Our Highest Chieftain,” Thorkelgt began, “we pray for young Vargroth, who is now in your care. We pray for his soul and that you will take him to be with you in paradise. But we pray most of all for those of us still caught up in this war... we pray that peace may come and come soon. And we pray that Vargroth’s death be laid to no one’s charge. Let no more guilt and sin remain, but cleanse us with your forgiveness and mercy. Amen.”
“Amen,” Omega said. They stood again.
“Thank you for being here,” Thorkelgt said.
“Of course,” Omega replied. “And thank you... for your prayer...”
Thorkelgt nodded solemnly.
They walked back to the Wolfstar and Omega pressed a button on the wall of the cargo hold, telling Aldar they were ready to depart. Everyone was secured and the mutants seemed calm and under control. Apparently the children were aware of what had happened because there were children clinging to their mutated parents.
Omega exchanged sympathetic glances with his wife and prepared to head to the bridge. But before he left, a timid voice stopped him. It was the voice of the young fox girl he had seen protecting her little brother. Only now, they took comfort in the monstrous embrace of their mother.
“Mister... is my mommy going to be okay?”
Omega’s gaze shifted to Thorkelgt, who was joining the other Viledarians. Thorkelgt returned Omega’s gaze with a despairing look and then he slowly shifted his eyes toward the floor. The unspoken answer chilled Omega. But no... it wasn’t going to be like this. He couldn’t allow it. S’aaruuk... Captain Ferguson... someone had to be able to do something.
“We’re going to do all we can for her,” Omega replied.
“Will you...” Thorkelgt began, but his voice broke. He started again. “Will you pray with me?”
“Of course,” Omega replied, almost in a whisper, as they each dropped to one knee.
“Our Highest Chieftain,” Thorkelgt began, “we pray for young Vargroth, who is now in your care. We pray for his soul and that you will take him to be with you in paradise. But we pray most of all for those of us still caught up in this war... we pray that peace may come and come soon. And we pray that Vargroth’s death be laid to no one’s charge. Let no more guilt and sin remain, but cleanse us with your forgiveness and mercy. Amen.”
“Amen,” Omega said. They stood again.
“Thank you for being here,” Thorkelgt said.
“Of course,” Omega replied. “And thank you... for your prayer...”
Thorkelgt nodded solemnly.
They walked back to the Wolfstar and Omega pressed a button on the wall of the cargo hold, telling Aldar they were ready to depart. Everyone was secured and the mutants seemed calm and under control. Apparently the children were aware of what had happened because there were children clinging to their mutated parents.
Omega exchanged sympathetic glances with his wife and prepared to head to the bridge. But before he left, a timid voice stopped him. It was the voice of the young fox girl he had seen protecting her little brother. Only now, they took comfort in the monstrous embrace of their mother.
“Mister... is my mommy going to be okay?”
Omega’s gaze shifted to Thorkelgt, who was joining the other Viledarians. Thorkelgt returned Omega’s gaze with a despairing look and then he slowly shifted his eyes toward the floor. The unspoken answer chilled Omega. But no... it wasn’t going to be like this. He couldn’t allow it. S’aaruuk... Captain Ferguson... someone had to be able to do something.
“We’re going to do all we can for her,” Omega replied.
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The JAM
- Cartoon Hero
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The jaguar, the fox twins, and McClaw were sitting inside, with N'marra, the dark coated leopard, seemingly wanting to be close to the spotted feline.
"This is getting weirder and weirder, isn't it?" asked the male feline.
"Heh, if this keeps up, the Malarkey Monster will probably be the one who'll have the cure for the mutants," said Nip.
"And even THEN I won't be surprised," said Tuck. "And what will happen to the refugees? Are they gonna be sent to back to their planets? Are they going to stay here?"
"Maybe that's up to them to decide," said the jaguar. He turned to the leopard, "And how about you? You miss your home world?"
"This is getting weirder and weirder, isn't it?" asked the male feline.
"Heh, if this keeps up, the Malarkey Monster will probably be the one who'll have the cure for the mutants," said Nip.
"And even THEN I won't be surprised," said Tuck. "And what will happen to the refugees? Are they gonna be sent to back to their planets? Are they going to stay here?"
"Maybe that's up to them to decide," said the jaguar. He turned to the leopard, "And how about you? You miss your home world?"
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BrockthePaine
- Cartoon Hero
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Sergeant Bob quickly began an explanation. "The prison barge - Tahathak was experimenting on the prisoners we took. Sergeant Thorkeldt attempted to warn you, to come and halt the experiments before they could be finished."
"Experiments?" Fergie asked, outraged that even the Viledarians would try such a thing. "What KIND of experiments?"
The Viledarian prisoner sighed. "Shameful ones. Tahathak is trying to splice genetic material from a lost alien race into our prisoners, to create a new-"
"What alien race?" Fergie barked. "WHAT ALIEN RACE?" He turned around and picked Blaghavist up by the front of his camo jacket.
"I don't know!" Blaghavist said. "I don't remember what they're called, but Thorkeldt said the Prison Barge was coming from a star called N546 Zatari..."
Fergie felt the breath go out of him. He removed the FAL from his shoulder and hurled it with all his might into a nearby tree, where the bayonet sank four inches into the wood, leaving the rifle sticking out like a very odd branch. Fergie was swearing in Gaelic, or at least that was what the others presumed, as Gil did not offer to translate.
When Fergie finally stopped his tirade and went to retrieve his rifle from the tree, Gil tentatively asked, "What's wrong?"
Fergie closed his eyes. "The Viledarians are doing the same experiments we did. They're trying to recreate the Zatari Ma'hak - the ancestors of the Chimeras. Heaven help us if THEY succeed as well as we did..."
"Experiments?" Fergie asked, outraged that even the Viledarians would try such a thing. "What KIND of experiments?"
The Viledarian prisoner sighed. "Shameful ones. Tahathak is trying to splice genetic material from a lost alien race into our prisoners, to create a new-"
"What alien race?" Fergie barked. "WHAT ALIEN RACE?" He turned around and picked Blaghavist up by the front of his camo jacket.
"I don't know!" Blaghavist said. "I don't remember what they're called, but Thorkeldt said the Prison Barge was coming from a star called N546 Zatari..."
Fergie felt the breath go out of him. He removed the FAL from his shoulder and hurled it with all his might into a nearby tree, where the bayonet sank four inches into the wood, leaving the rifle sticking out like a very odd branch. Fergie was swearing in Gaelic, or at least that was what the others presumed, as Gil did not offer to translate.
When Fergie finally stopped his tirade and went to retrieve his rifle from the tree, Gil tentatively asked, "What's wrong?"
Fergie closed his eyes. "The Viledarians are doing the same experiments we did. They're trying to recreate the Zatari Ma'hak - the ancestors of the Chimeras. Heaven help us if THEY succeed as well as we did..."
Last edited by BrockthePaine on Tue Nov 21, 2006 10:32 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Fusion
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Red. Blood Red. Vision filled with it.
Shadows. Smudges of things existing in his sight. The outlines of people.
What is this? Ben wonders.
Shadows begin to move towards him. No, he is moving towards the shadows.
He feels his arm go back to wind up for a swing as he gets close to one shadow.
He's holding his SWORD!
He tries to stop but his body acts on it's own. In a flash the shadow falls, it's lifeless thump pounding into his mind. Without delay, he turns towards another shadow.
Ben's scream feels choked in his lungs as the heavy blade passes through the shadow without pause.
Once again he feels himself turn to face another shadow. Once again he tries to do whatever he can to stop what seemed like the inevitable.
Suddenly his vision clears for an instant. Instantly he feels his body fall back under his control releasing the shout that had been bottled up for what felt like forever.
“XENDA!!”
“Ben! Calm down, I'm right here!”
Ben blinks. He's sitting on one if the beds in the Wolfstar with a very concerned looking Xenda sitting nearby.
The memories of what happened just a bit ago quickly rush back into his mind. His whole body begins to shake as he buries his face in his hands and sobs.
“Ben, What's wrong?” Xenda asks putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I...killed him...”
“...Wha?” Xenda looks at him confused. He had killed a lot of Viledarians in the last battle and it hardly seemed to bother him.
“I killed on of the good Viledarians in that splinter faction who where trying to PROTECT the children AND everyone else!”
Unable to think of anything to say, she just hugs him and lets him cry.
Shadows. Smudges of things existing in his sight. The outlines of people.
What is this? Ben wonders.
Shadows begin to move towards him. No, he is moving towards the shadows.
He feels his arm go back to wind up for a swing as he gets close to one shadow.
He's holding his SWORD!
He tries to stop but his body acts on it's own. In a flash the shadow falls, it's lifeless thump pounding into his mind. Without delay, he turns towards another shadow.
Ben's scream feels choked in his lungs as the heavy blade passes through the shadow without pause.
Once again he feels himself turn to face another shadow. Once again he tries to do whatever he can to stop what seemed like the inevitable.
Suddenly his vision clears for an instant. Instantly he feels his body fall back under his control releasing the shout that had been bottled up for what felt like forever.
“XENDA!!”
“Ben! Calm down, I'm right here!”
Ben blinks. He's sitting on one if the beds in the Wolfstar with a very concerned looking Xenda sitting nearby.
The memories of what happened just a bit ago quickly rush back into his mind. His whole body begins to shake as he buries his face in his hands and sobs.
“Ben, What's wrong?” Xenda asks putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I...killed him...”
“...Wha?” Xenda looks at him confused. He had killed a lot of Viledarians in the last battle and it hardly seemed to bother him.
“I killed on of the good Viledarians in that splinter faction who where trying to PROTECT the children AND everyone else!”
Unable to think of anything to say, she just hugs him and lets him cry.