Fixerspy plays with Fire

Her newly formed body convulsed uncontrollably in agonizing spasms as her screams of pain and terror pierced the air. Gently an invisible force lifted her out of the waters of the resurrection pool, levitating her in the notum saturated air and embracing her with a soothing touch that penetrated throughout her entire being. Her screams and spasms eventually subsided as she floated there for some minutes, and she slowly became aware of the soothing music that flooded the garden.

Her senses returned to her, slowly at first, then in a flooding torrent of the sensations, images, and emotions she had experience that last several moments before she had died. The calming music that permeated the garden and reverberated into the very depths of her spirit and soul reassured her, reminding her that she was one of the Enlightened, one of the Chosen, and that nothing could cause her harm here.

Intoxicating warmth spread throughout her body. Stifling a yawn as she stretched, she closed her eyes and relaxed into the unseen force that held her aloft in the air. A slight breeze gingerly caressed the nudeness of her body as she sighed deeply and drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Several Months Earlier…

A satisfying burst echoed in the cave as the head of one of the Mantis’s clawing at her exploded into a bloody pulp. In short order several more corpses were piled into a heap on the first. After taking a moment to wipe the gore off of her armor with a rag, Fixerspy knelt beside the dead Mantis’s and proceeded to skin and dissect their remains. A short while later she stuffed a few mantis parts into one of her backpacks with a satisfied smile. She was distracted by the beeping of her datalink.

She glanced down at the now full bag of mantis parts that she had collected to fill her latest contract, an order from a tradeskiller for raw parts and supplies to make Mantis Armor. Some days it wasn’t worth the hassle of answering calls, but today curiosity got the better of her. Especially when she noticed that the call was coming in on her ultra-private line, was highly encrypted, and was not back traceable. That always meant two things… whoever was calling… whatever they were calling about… It was extremely illicit and extremely dangerous. And that meant $$$. An amused smile crossed her lips. She could use a little adventure after the hours of tediously camping the Mantis den.

“Er… Yes?” she offered hesitantly after tapping on the link.
“Travis Molen here, F’spy” a weary, husky voice said. In the background the sound of battle could be heard, peppered with the shouts of combatants and shrieks of dying mobs. It sounded dreadful.

Travis Molen was the Manager of the ICC ShuttlePort, or at least what was left of it. When the Aliens first invaded Rubi-Ka, the ShuttlePort was one of the areas that damn near got wiped off the map, permanently. Since that time the Aliens had been waging a non-stop campaign to conquer the area, but had been held in check by a small contingent of combined planetary defenses under Travis’s command.

“Hey Travis. Still stuck in hell, I see..”
“Unfortunately… Listen, I need another favor. The local Unicorn Commander here is up to his old crappy stunts again. I’ve got Neuts and Clansmen kissing the reclaim in droves cause he refuses to supply ammo to them… Says it is being held in emergency reserve for his troops until the next shipment arrives from Omni-Pol. Name your price, but I need you to say that you will help.”

“Love to help, Travis, but I damn near got caught by ARKS last time. I don’t know…”
“Dammit F’spy, I said name your price. I don’t have time for CareBear politics while people are dying.”

One of the most ancient and without dispute the most powerful guild on Rubi-Ka, ARKS were normally rather pleasant, friendly, and helpful fellows when you crossed paths with them. But the ICC ShuttlePort was an Officially Quarantined Area, and ARKS took very seriously their assigned duty to patrol the borders of the ShuttlePort and keep unauthorized people out. Especially Black-Marketeers.

“Well?” Travis let the question hang in the air a moment, waiting for Fixerspy’s answer.
“Hmm… Some friends of mine need some Technical Libraries… 3 or 4 bags of em? And some salvaged crates of random stuff you might have recovered from any of the crashes.”
“Deal!”
“I’ll drop the supplies over by Brandon on the beach. Can you send the libraries and salvage out as a shipment that I can pick up from a Noob on the mainland?”
“No Problem. But you will need to drop by and grab the shipping documents. I’ll leave them stuffed behind the nano vendor. And be damn careful with all these Unicorns around!”
“See you in 20”. She hung up the comlink and gridded out…

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Getting onto the island had been tricky… and she dared not risk any data traces of her coming or going via the grid. “God Dammit” she muttered to herself. Things were not going according to plan. She had managed to drop off the supply shipment on the beach for Travis… (Brandon Thorn was a really great chap but he could be clueless sometimes), and had sneaked up and retrieved the shipping documents of the black-market goods she was getting as payment. But on the way out she had somehow been detected while sneaking past the shuttlepads… and now she had Omni Unicorn SquadLeader Fixx chasing her to the far side of the island.

“You have been detected…” The message had flashed almost innocently on her datalink.
“Alert! Black-Marketeer! Fixerspy, Halt and Surrender!” The cries of alarm had sounded faster than she could think SH** to herself. And now she was running, as fast as she could, easily out distancing the Unicorns, and trying to get off the damn island before it was too late. So what if the Unicorns complained and rumors spread that she had been here? Who would really care about unprovable rumors? But to be caught here, in the flesh… that was a different story.

Alarms flashed across her datalink again. A message transmitted nearby had been intercepted and decrypted. It was Fixx petitioning ARK for assistance. “God DaM…” The thought went unfinished. Almost instantly a large hulking form materialized in front of her, an ARK insignia glowing on the breastplate of his armor. She didn’t even have time to scream…

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Fixerspy awoke peacefully, well rested and extremely relaxed. Gently she floated down and was set upon the ground beside the resurrection pool. Stretching, catlike, she picked herself up and started rummaging through her stuff on the reclaim alter. Squadleader Fixx flashed briefly thru her mind… that would definitely be a score to settle later when she could. Her very brief encounter with ARK also flashed thru her mind, but there was nothing she could do about that other than hoping that they had no further interest in her. ARK was not to be screwed with… and if you got on their bad side all you could do is prey…

The flashing light on her datalink drew her attention. Sighing, she pick up the link and tapped a few buttons…

“Msg vom ARK: This is your Last Warning! Any Further Violations of the ICC ShuttlePort Quarantine will result in revocation of Insurance, revocation of Citizenship, and Banishment from Rubi-Ka”. “Funny,” she thought to herself, “I don’t remember getting any warning whatsoever before you Nuked Me with Instant Death… Maybe I really should have surrendered to the Unicorns,” she shrugged to herself.

The next message was not much better. It was a standard Omni-Pol security bulletin issuing an all points bulletin to arrest her on sight. “But then again, Maybe Not…” she laughed. The situation with ARK had her seriously worried, but she could care less about Omni’s desires to arrest her. She was safely insured in the gardens of Pande, far beyond their reach, and had always found ways of evading or escaping from Omni-Pol in the past when she encountered them.

The third message was the one she had been hoping for. It was a non-descript series of numbers and dashes… Travis’s code letting her know he had sent the contraband shipment, as agreed… but the next several messages from Travis alarmed her. Apparently she had repeatedly missed attempts to deliver the contraband to her.

Giving the datalink a few quick taps she doubled checked today’s timestamp. Over three and a half months had passed since her visit to Noob Island. Not only had ARK Insta Killed her on sight… they had intercepted her death transmission and placed her in suspended stasis for several months before allowing her to resurrect. Damn! Talk out being knocked out of the game! Gods only knows what had been going on or what she had missed out on in the meanwhile.

Tabbing thru the rest of her messages she came across Travis’s last message, reassuring her he had made arrangements to have her booty stashed in a safe location. “N.L. B.Y. Cave”. She knew exactly where that was… She collected the rest of her stuff, shoved it into a bag… and wandered out onto the garden lawn near the exit statue. Blushing, she realized too late that she was only dressed in mother natures finest when others visiting the garden whistled at her admiring her lack of modesty.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Later that day…

Newland Backyard was all but deserted. Before the Alien Invasion it had been one of three major training grounds used by new arrivals to acclimate to Rubi-Ka and get training in survival skills before venturing out into the cities and wastelands beyond. Now, except for the occasional odd veteran or curiosity seeker, it was a virtual ghost town.

Fixerspy had easily located the stash of contraband at the rear of the grounds, tucked away past a crumbling wall and ruins of a building complex, and had made several trips to tote it all back to a bank terminal for deposit. Once she had thought she had seen someone in the distance, but the occasional site seer was not to be unexpected, so long as they didn’t stray too near her or her business.

On the way back from double checking that she had left anything behind, the low rumble of engines caught her attention. Spinning around, she watched a craft in the distance fly over the cliffs surrounding the training compound and start to land. It was an Omni-Pol Troop Transport ship.

“WTF?” Remembering the All Points Security Alert for her arrest, she was wary of danger… she instantly started casting a nano-program to grid. And instantly her datalink blarred alarms that her nano-transmission to hack into the grid was in danger of being detected.
“WTF!?!?!?!” She wanted to leave NOW! But she also had no desire to possibly have her gridstream redirected into an Omni-Pol jail cell, or have Omni Scum tracking and chasing her thru the grid or laying in ambush waiting for her at the grid exits. Aborting the grid, she spun round and started running like hell…

Dashing across a bridge that spanned a small lake, she dove for cover in the rocks along the cliffs. Instantly she started buffing for combat and double checked her weapons… a Conflagrant Syndicate Messenger Gun and a Kyr'Ozch Submachine Gun - Type 5, as well as several lessor weapons. Preparations made, she buffed her concealment and perception and then melted into the rockface. Activating her datalink she quickly tapped the commands for it to passively monitor and intercept local transmissions.

Across the lake the ship was landing beside the vendors and insurance terminals. A moment later what looked like 3, maybe 4 squads of troops poured out and mustered into attack formations. “God Damn It!” she cursed to herself. “They must have traced me when I left Jobe and entered Borialis on my way to Newland.” Wondering if Omni-Pol was actually making a serious and concerted effort to capture her, she started scanning the troops for signs of the Unicorns. Much to her relief she did not see any…

Warnings flashed across her comlink. She was picking up chatter as the Omni-Pol troops broke up into several formations, one taking up a sentry guard around the ship, the others sweeping out in combat patrols, searching… They were Actively Scanning and Monitoring all local transmissions, doubly so for Grid transmissions. That clinched it for her. They knew she was here, somewhere, and they were going to try to flush her out.

Her fingers started tapping randomly on the casings of her submachine guns, almost as if trying to decide which to use first, as she watch a pair of Predatech hounds and a squad of troops sweeping in a search pattern towards the lake edge.

As she watched and waited, she started planning her escape route. Doubtless she would be under heavy fire the whole time. She would make them pay dearly as they crossed the bridge, then she would retreat around the lake to the shack, stand ground there, retreat further down the cliffs to the crumbled wall and ruined builds, stand ground there, and then make a dashing retreat across the open fields, thru the tunnel, past the transport ship, and out into the city beyond. Then she could hit the whompahs and play ring around the rosey until she could signal her yalm to pick her up and make a dash to the wastelands or beyond.

She decided on the Kyr'Ozch Submachine Gun - Type 5. Normally she favored the CSMG, as it was an old tried and true that had seen her thru her journeys in the Shadowlands… but now she was going with the SG-T5 because of it’s superior lethal combo of burst and fling shot specials and damn near 1/1 ratio of rapid fire.

She sighted in on the nearest troops that were trailing the hounds. She was confident she could dodge and outrun the hounds, and the hounds couldn’t attack her from a distance… but the troops could. She watch as they and the hounds neared the bridge… “That’s it… right this way… a few more steps… And…”

And then the hounds turned and headed the other way… back towards the exit that lead out of the training grounds and into Newland City… and the scum grunts wandered after them… Puzzled and Confused, Fixerspy lowered the SG-T5 and pondered the situation…

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

They were definitely hunting for someone… but maybe it wasn’t her after all. She checked her datalink again for updates on the wars. Some action Fair Trade action earlier in the day… some after Tara action that had flarred up into some tower wars…and reports that whompah wars were heating up. She had 0 interest in attempting to reach the whompahs in a battle and getting caught up in the action until she had a better idea of what was going on. Abruptly the various squads moved out, with a obvious purpose, towards the city, leaving only a small contingent behind with the ship.

A short while later the sounds of battle drifted over the cliffs… and the few troops left behind drifted away from the ships ramps towards the vending and insurance terminals. A moment later another Omni-Pol troop strode down the ramp and out of the craft, joining his comrades idly circling on the far side of the ship. Puzzled, Fixerspy tried to figure out what could possibly be distracting them… she shook her head… and then focused on the ship again.

The ship. It was a rather large ship, being a troop transport ship. She shook her head again. A transport ship. As in a ship capable of orbital travel to any destination on the planet, or hell, even in the system. A cheese eating grin crossed her face. Surely it couldn’t be that simple, that easy to get the hell out of here? And Well… it would be nice to have a backup plan in case ARK ever did follow up on their threat to have her kicked off the planet… But where to hide it? The Wastelands? Out over the Sea? In plain sight at one of the many ruins of crashes scattered around the territories? Hmm… or maybe in the uncharted and unterraformed territories… In The Outzones…

She just couldn’t help but grin. Casually she climbed down from the rocks, strode across the bridge, and walked up the ramp of the ship. Cautiously she peeked inside, and to her astonishment all the systems were powered up and no one was sitting in the cockpit. Despite being nervous with butterfly jitters, she could barely control the urge to burst out with laughter. Easing her way forward, she settled into the cockpit, placed one smg on the seat beside her and the other in her lap, and started studying the flight controls…

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

A short while later the sounds of battle drifting over from the city intensified. The ships comlinks and several nearby comlinks crackled with a gargled transmission of R@InF@Rc&Ment$. $#nd ReiF….

Almost all of the few remaining troops made a mad dash for the exit to the city…

((Fixerspy joins the cult!!! And in a huge Way DAMN this is a good read!!))

hee. i'm an old time rp/ buzz fan. i just haven't had time to do anything new for a while other than write guides, lol.

/w actually just over a year ago i sorted of jacked Pax'es thread... i loved her story so much i just couldn't help myself :p but fortunately she forgave me :D

i orgininally started this as a sort of intro to rp and buzz for new players... picking up elements from the start of the story line on noob island, tossing in some teaser info on shadowlands, and wrapping Arks into the story to illustrate how important they are to the game... (not to mention what happens to bad boys and girls when they get too carried away, lol)

and then somehow after catching up on my reading (pax's douse my flames with gasoline story) i ended up with a neurotic and paranoid toon getting ready to steal an omni troop transport ship and haul @zz to the wastelands, outzones, and beyond in search of adventure...

who knows... maybe she will end up 'discovering' that ICC and Omni-Pol are secretly constructing 'orbiting stations' and sound the alert to the clans...

although she may take a few trips off world from time to time, i doubt she will stay gone for long... since as an enlightened being having spent so much time in the shawdowlands, she would become ill and possibly die (permanently) if she were gone too long...

Outside of Reuters a small crowd of spectators had gathered, consisting mostly of local Neuts and employees from the outdoor food court surrounding Reuters and the nearby Bronto Burger Bar. One oddly dressed fellow, known locally as the ‘Good Time Party Mixer’, had wondered over to the Bronto Burger bar and was attempting to chat with the woman working there. “What the hell is going on in there?” the Party Mixer asked, nodding his head towards Reuters, indicating the static racket of automatic gunfire echoing from it’s direction.

She glanced briefly past him and shrugged. “Don’t Know. Don’t Care.” she said as she wiped the bar off with a wet greasy rag. She was obviously uncomfortable, not only about this latest disturbance at the disco nearby, but also because of the unwanted attentions of this notorious party man.

She hadn’t been planet side very long, having arrived less than a few weeks before, but already she had been regretting the decision to immigrate to Rubi Ka from the asteroid mining operations ran by ICC in a nearby star system. Things would probably have been better if her husband had came with her, but he still had six months left on a ten year contract, and had insisted that she wait for him planet side. The estrangement was hard enough, but the ordeals she had endured since planet-fall were almost enough to make her wish she had never come.

She had been ecstatically happy when she had arrived at the Morning Star Space Station those few weeks ago, expecting that within a few days she would be settled in Borealis working as a new part time bartender at the local Fair Trade store, and building a comfortable home in her new apartment while waiting for her husbands arrival. If she had only known then what lay in store for her…

After leaving the space station, her shuttle had been shot down by alien attack-craft, and she had spent three nightmarish and miserable days fighting for survival on what was known as ‘Noob Island’. If it hadn’t been for Brandon Thorn and his medical attentions, she wouldn’t be alive today. Looking back on it, she almost felt guilty about leaving the others on the island. Almost. After the first few days of brutal bare bones survival, she had been conscripted by Travis Morgan to help the teleport technician with repairs at the teleport tower. After a long day of scavenging circuit boards and other scrap parts off the bodies of dead droids and robots and then dragging them back to the technician, he was able to get the transports to work for several brief flickering seconds as she stood nearby… And in those brief few seconds, almost without any concern of the dangers or the consequences, she had shoved the technician aside and dived through the whompah to Borealis like an insanely desperate and half crazed woman.

Later that week after making it to the mainland, recuperated and her sanity restored, she had started her new job as a bartender at Fair Trade. At first she had been utterly confused as to why the stores senior manager had personally escorted her to an insurance terminal and forced her to purchase insurance. But the reason became painfully clear later that same day after she had been executed seven times in a row by an unruly and vengeful omni enforcer that she accidentally spilled a drink on. The store management had neglected to inform her about the stores employee resurrector pad that was built in behind the bar, and each time she died she would ‘re-spawn’ in the exact same spot, which was at her workstation behind the bar. Somehow, whilst the enforcer was dancing and laughing gleefully and hi-fiving his buddies, she had managed to run, screaming hysterically, out of the stores bar and out the front door of Fair Trade.

After being fired from her new job for refusing to return to work, and after spending a few terrified days hiding in her apartment, she had moved to Newland, where she found a job working at the Bronto Burger bar as a food provider, feeling somewhat safe and reassured as she was constantly surrounded by the Newland Militia Guard that vigilantly patrolled the area. So far, since moving here from Borealis, things had been going peaceful and rather well. But today’s disturbances at the nearby disco and the presence of Omni-Pol troops had her somewhat unsettled…

Oblivious to the fact that she had been ignoring him the past several minutes, the Good Time Party Mixer had been rambling on. Distracted from her thoughts about her new life on Rimor and today’s recent disturbance of the peace nearby, the half heard comments made by the Party Mixer flared her uncomfortableness with him into out right anger and disgust.

“…ving Cyber is awesome, the best!” he said with a grin. He was stunned when she reached out and smacked him as hard as she could. “What the f~”

“Listen you pervert, I am a married woman. I don’t give a damn about you and your good time parties and I’m sure as hell not going to cyber with you!” she said contemptuously.

“No, No, No” he sputtered, embarrassed. “Armor. Living Cyber Armor. You know, protective armor clothing. I help newcomers get protective clothing in exchange for a few favors they do for me.”

“Pssft. I think you and your favors need to wander back over to your booth and leave me alone.” She stared at him in admonishment for a few moments until, reluctantly, he wondered away. Relieved, she sat down on a stool behind the burger bar, and, trying to ignore the sporadic sounds of gunfire from the disco, and the heated presence of the Omni troops nearby, she pulled out a pamphlet illustrated with a guide to Jobe Luxury Apartments and the Nascence Gardens. She paid particular attention, as another explosion echoed from the disco building nearby, to the advertisements of the gardens being far, far beyond the reaches of the conflicts and ongoing war on Rubi Ka, hidden in the realms of the Shadowlands...

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

The Newland Militia Guard towered over Corporal Iennas and the other members of the Beta team of Omni-Pol troops. Nearby, several of his fellow militia kept a very watchful eye on the immediate area and on every move made by Iennas’s squad. “I don’t give a damn if you do have a shoot on site arrest warrant. Your squad has exactly 1 minute to wrap this up. And Omni-Tek will pay in-full, with penalties, for all damages to the local establishments caused by this raid.” The sporadic sounds of full auto gunfire punctuated the guards last words with added emphasis.

“You Will NOT interfere with this arrest, and if necessary, You WILL Assist in this apprehension! Is that clear!?! Do I have to remind you that you were trained by the Omni-Pol Unicorns, and under the Peace Accords you are Obligated to assist in law enforcement matters!?!” Spittle flew from Corporal Iennas’s mouth as, attempting to assert his authority, he screamed at the guard and waved his rifle dangerously in the air. “Omni-Pol has jurisdiction over all Omni-Tek citizens. Period!”

Loudspeakers scattered throughout the city suddenly barked to life. “Attention Newland City residents. This is a Notum Wars Update, brought to you by Curan and Helpbot… When you need help, you know who to ask… just /tell curan or /tell helpbot for all the latest news, information, and ongoing battles. Help is just a datalink away… Now for the lastest war update: Newland City is now under a Whompah War Alert. An ongoing and intense Tri-Factional Fair Trade war in Borealis is expected to overflow into Newland City in the next 90 to 120 seconds. Muti-factional forces are currently engaged in battle on the Borealis side of the whompahs and are headed this way. All Newland citizens are advised to evacuate the streets and remain indoors at the nearest secured residential complex. Militia and citizen defenders please stand ready to engage and destroy all hostile Omni and Clan forces.”

The outdoor food court was suddenly empty of spectators, as citizens and local employees dashed away to the safety of nearby secured buildings. The woman that had been working at the Burger Bar had fled the moment the loudspeakers had barked to life, not bothering to wait for the message to be played.
Several of the locals working in the area, including the Good Time Party Mixer, briefly rummaged around and quickly arming themselves, dashed off towards the nearest ramps leading upwards onto the upper ramparts of the surrounding buildings.

The Militia Guard glanced briefly up the hill towards the whompahs and then stared at Iennas nonplused. “Security matters in Newland City fall under our jurisdiction, and as such…” the sound of an explosion echoed from the nearby disco and bounced off the buildings surrounding the food court. “we should have been notified to conduct the arrest.” The guard glance up the hill again, and then into the sky. A look of fear and doubt brieifly flickered across his face, only to be replaced by cold determination. When he looked at Iennas again, it was with a new purpose. Nonchalantly the guard hit his comlink. “All forces standby. ICC HQ this is Newland Militia. Unicorn Transport ships sighted on landing approach to the city. Requesting Reinforcements.” “Roger Newland Militia. Be advised a large contingent of Dust Brigades was reported to be in the grid and exiting in Newland Grid momentarily. Also, Multi-factional forces are currently whompah’ing from all over the damn planet to your location. Looks like it is going to get pretty damn ugly. Good luck to you guys. Reinforcements rallying now and will be in-route shortly.”

Corporal Iennas was surprised at how quiet things had suddenly gotten. Remarkably even the ruckus at the disco had died away. “Alpha team, report.” Several seconds passed in what seemed like an eternity. “Alpha team, report”. He glanced about him, double checking the positions of his squadron of troops as he wait for a response to his com.

”Attention Newland Citizens” the citywide speakers blared once again. “This is a Level 7 War Alert! This is not a drill! Citizens have 30 seconds to find shelter. City Militia and Defense forces are ordered to engage non-Neutral forces on sight. Attention Newland Citizens This is a Level 7 War Alert! This is not a drill! Citizens have 25 seconds to find shelter. City Militia and Defense forces are ordered to engage non-Neutral forces on sight. Attention Newland Citizens This is a Level 7 War Alert! This is not a drill! Citizens have 20 seconds to find shelter. City Militia and Defense forces are ordered to engage non-Neutral forces on sight…”

Corporal Iennas, in those last few peaceful seconds staring eye to eye with the Newland Militia Guard that he had only minutes before attempted to intimidate, suddenly felt very, very alone…

The evening sun glistened off the spiral tower looming amidst the center of the small city. The stark and breathtaking beauty of the barren Newland Desert stretched towards the horizon in all directions. In the distance to the east and to the west, the vague gleaming outlines of notum mining towers could be seen. Below, on the cobbled streets between the cities Headquarters and it’s Control Tower, dozens of figures skirmished like ants and cockroaches contesting control of this desert outpost.

If anyone had bothered to look up from the streets below, they might have noticed the light from the setting sun gleaming off of the polished metal of a rather small yalm, haphazardly parked on the landing platform located halfway up the spiral tower. And if they had exceptional eyesight, they might have noticed the lone atroxish figure sitting, legs splayed and dangling in mid air, on the edge of the platform, watching them. However, no one bothered to look. They were too busy fighting for their very survival against the alien hoards that were rampaging through the streets.

One might have a hard time trying to guess the line of work of this battle scared and imposing figure of an atrox, if they guessed based merely on his brutish appearance alone. Most, not realizing that he was as exceptional with his brains as well as his bronze, mistook him as an overgrown simpleton capable of nothing more than hacking and bumbling his way through life. However, a quick glance at the motley collection of gear and weapons strapped to his body or laying close at hand on the platform beside him might give you a clue that he was, in fact, an exceptionally talented agent.

“Meat”, a rogue agent affiliated with the clans, had been hired earlier that same day by the leader of this small omni organization. It’s leader, recently having made planet-fall the previous year, and having shown some promise as a potentially strong new leader of Omni’s lower ranks of new recruits, had been ‘gifted’ this city and the nearby notum tower sites by the leaders of Omni’s more powerful and prominent guilds. If things went according to plan, their investment in this new junior guild and it’s leader would eventually result in the ‘seasoning’ of a vast number of new recruits, preparing them to eventually join one of the major omni guilds striving for corporate domination of the planet through their military prowess.

Emboldened far beyond his training and capabilities, the new omni leader had grand plans for how his new organization would quickly develop into a Zerg Guild, surpassing the majesty and power of the guilds of his benefactors. Today’s battle was the culmination of several weeks of planning and preparations. The plan was to lure an alien mothership into landing nearby and attacking the city. They would repel the initial attack, and then launch a counter attack to capture the mothership. Capturing and salvaging advanced alien weapons and technologies was today’s ultimate goal. Unbeknownst to him, it was also someone else’s goal.

The cities defenses had been readied. Hundreds of weapons and armor had been stockpiled in preparation for this day. Over a month ago he had contacted the Omni-Tek Recruitment Officer on Noob Island, whom had originally recruited him when he arrived on Rubi Ka last year, and made arrangements for 60 fresh blooded newbie omni troops to be immediately shuttled to his city once the teleporters from the island to the mainland were in working order again.

And today had been that day. The fresh troops had been taken immediately on their arrival in Rome and packed aboard troop transport shuttles which hastily departed to the lessor guild city. Timing was critical. The latest reports from the orbiting defense satellites showed that an alien mothership would be passing over his city sector within 20 minutes. With a growing sense of excitement he eyed the approaching fleet of transports as their engines roared furiously on their landing approach. No sooner had their ramp doors hit the ground than the troops came pouring out in a chaotic rush.

The air was alive with the hectic shouts of his generals and the new troops. “Go! Go! Go! Go!” “Give me a squad of 6 right here right now formed up on me, dammit!” “Move your gimpy asses!” “Sir, Yes Sir!” “What did you call me!?! STFU! You haven’t Earned the Right to call me Sir!” “I said strip naked god dammit! Pile that load **** you call weapons and armor on the ground over there!” “What the F** is wrong with you, Recruit!?! Never seen a nude woman before?!? Get rid of that damn thing before I cut if off!!!” “I don’t give a damn what your names are! From now on you will be known only by your squad number and profession. You six, Squad 1, You six, Squad 2…” “Squad 4, Move your ass! Get over to those crates and grab your new weapons!” Squad 3, new armor. Form up on me, Now!”

The cobblestone tarmac was a bustle of confused activity of partially dressed or nude bodies dashing about, tossing their old gear aside as they grab their new weapons and armor. Within several short minutes they had reformed into 10 squads centered around the cities control tower, taking up defensive battle positions under the watchful eyes of his generals.

The omni guild leader checked his datalink. Just in time. The mothership was due overhead in less than 3 minutes. “Drop the shields!” he commanded. Without hesitation, one of his generals step up to the cities control tower and dropped the defensive shields that masked and protected the city from random alien invasions.

From his vantage point, Meat watched the ensuing battle unfold below. Normally he wouldn’t have hired out to an omni guild, but after hearing the details of the contract, and learning that they were unable to get additional combat support from Omni’s elite guilds, he had happily accepted the contract. His job was simple: Provide sniper support, and in the event of a worse case scenario, by any means necessary ensure that at least one of the senior officers of this junior omni guild survived the battle, so that they could re-enable the city controllers defensive shields to protect the city. They could not risk the city being destroyed by aliens before a resurrected officer could return to the city.

He watched as a large alien ship approached over the horizon, and drew near the city. It seemed to slow, changing course slightly, and hovered a few moments before slowly descending to land a stones throw from the cities perimeter. The troops below easily countered the first several waves of aliens that stormed into the city. But as each wave grew progressively larger, their losses started to mount. “Sniper Sniper Need Covering Fire!” his comlink repeatedly blared. The request went unheeded.

He was actually quite surprised at how well the eggheads below were performing. Although they had lost a third of their numbers, they had killed ten fold that number of aliens. Glancing over at the mothership, Meat saw at least 4 massive of aliens yet to come, the last of which appeared to be commanded by an alien general. “Hmmpft” he thought to himself as he glanced back at the troops below, guessing their remaining numbers. “Mite b klos.” He watched with fascination and admiration as the omni troops fought against impossible odds as the remaining waves of aliens overwhelmed them. Turning off the audio on his comlink, he ignored the repeated demands and screams for help.

At the end, battling the last wave, there were only 5 remaining survivors of the original omni battle force, fiercely fighting against the alien general and a dozen of it’s scouts and lieutenants. “Hmm…” Meat muttered as he weighed the odds. The remaining troops were obviously the ‘twinkled’ and ‘hardened’ generals and leader of the guild. But he didn’t like their odds.

Casually he swung his legs back up from off the edge of the platform, and picked up one of the sniper rifles laying on the platform beside him. Carefully he took aim and fired at one of the alien scouts. Aside from the slight dip of the vital life signs of the creature, the only indication that it had been wounded was a brief stagger before it grabbed the nearest trooper and ripped him literally in half.

“Hmmpft. Tuf nut to krak” he reflected as he put down the caterwaul sniper rifle and picked up a type 3 Kyr'Ozch Rifle. Carefully he aimed at his next target. The weapons aimed shot and fling shots were fired in such rapid succession they sounded as one. This time the alien scout momentarily collapsed to the ground. With another quick succession of shots he ensured that it didn’t get back up. “Bet-her” he mumbled approvingly.

One by one the remaining troops and aliens met their deaths, until only the alien general and two of the troopers remained. Meat set down the Type 3 Rifle and picked up the third remaining weapon, a Type 12 Kyr'Ozch Submachine Gun. Glancing over, he also grabbed a bag and dumped its contents of ammo beside him. He switched the weapon to full auto and took aim at the massive figure of the alien beast, emptying an entire clip into it. One by one the ammo clips disappeared.

Almost out of ammo, Meat glanced at the vital life signs indicator beside him. The readings of each of the three nearby lifesigns were dangerously low. The two troopers below, obviously battered and severely wounded, staggered back from the alien monster and attempted to run. One of them never made it, as he was instantly pinned to the ground by one of the monsters pincers piecing through his torso. His body was haphazardly flung aside like a rag doll as the alien gave chase to the last remaining trooper.

Dropping the type 12 SMG, Meat stood and unsheathed his sword, an Enhanced Queen Blade, and tapped one of the hacked grafts attached to his wrist. Instantly his hulking form was engulfed in a swarm of polymorphing nanobots .

The junior guild leader staggered towards his HQ. He was confused, dazed, and badly wounded. Things had gone horribly wrong. He had expected a difficult victory that resulted in some losses, but this was nightmarish. One by one his troops had been cut down. Even his generals, his best. And none of them had resurrected and returned to the battle. Had they deserted? Maybe some of them might have been traumatized from the excruciating pain of death and resurrection… but all of them? Had they forgotten to insure? OMFG! This last thought struck a note of terror through his being. The sixty fresh recruits may not have know to insure immediately once they had arrived on the mainland… Quickly glancing about, he saw their torn and battered bodies tossed about and mingled amongst the remnants of the aliens they had cut down. Fear crept into his mind. Were they permanently dead???

Dazed, he pushed the thoughts from his mind as he struggled to run on. If he could only make it inside, he might survive long enough for resurrected troops to arrive. Surely the generals, his crack troops, would be rushing to rejoin the battle as soon as they could. Spasming in pain and gulping for each breath, he stumbled and collapsed halfway up on the Hq steps. Unable to regain his footing he tumbling onto his side and watched his alien nemesis lumbering towards him. A moment later, resigned to his fate of being sent to the reclaim, his mind could not quite register or comprehend watching a small bird swooping down from the spiral above him, transforming in mid air into sword welding warrior, and plunging his wicked looking blade to the hilt into what was presumably the monsters brain. The alien general let out a furious shriek, stumbled several steps, and then slow sank to the ground, twitching in its death thralls.

A moment later Meat stood on the Hq steps beside the junior guild leader as the man broke down in tears and wept uncontrollably. An alarm flashed on his datalink, warning of additional activity coming from the nearby alien mothership, and of a larger second unknown craft descending upon the city. Meat scooped up the leader and purposefully strode towards the cities controller with an effortless pace. Dumping the man on the ground beside the CT like a slab of meat, he quickly tapped the controls of his datapad.

“Thank you for contacting ICC Independent Contract Verification and Escrow Services. Existing customers, please enter your PIN now…” Meat tapped in his code, and a moment later a pudgy balding man was staring at him over the vidlink. The man seemed preoccupied for a moment as he scanned the details of the digital contract displayed on his monitor.

“Surviving Officers?” the pudgy man queried.

“Da Prez” Meat nodded as he redirected his vidcam at the leader sobbing and babbling incoherently on the ground beside him.

“Verification?”

Meat knelt beside the leader, gently slapping him, and offering him a datapad. Glancing at his area map readout, he knew they had only moments before the second ship arrived. More forcefully this time, he slapped the leader again and forced the datapad into his hands. Hesitantly, coughing and sputtering between sobs, the man tapped a code onto the pad.

“Verification Code Confirmed.” The pudgy man almost sounded as if he were bored ****less. Such was the life of a bureaucrat. “City Shield Status?”

Meat dragged the guild leader to his feet and taking hold of one of his hands, he forcefully pressed his palm into a reader on the side of the CT. Instantly the cities defensive shields slammed into a protective arc engulfing the city. Seconds later an eerie explosive sound, similar to that of a lightning bolt of electricity sizzling through water, erupted from the controller and reverberated into a mind numbing pitch before fading away. Tossing the guild leader aside with little effort or afterthought, Meat wincing from the sound, Meat watched as the newly arrived alien ship was bounced off the cities shields. The craft regained it’s orientation, and after a moments pause, started leisurely climbing through the air away from the city. Nearby the engines of the first alien craft roared to life as it prepared to disembark.

“Confirmed” the crat said in a dry emotionless voice. “Contract verification is complete. Credits held in escrow are now being transferred into your accounts. 85 million credits are now being transferred. One moment please.” Several seconds ticked by. “Transfer complete. Thank you for using ICC Independent Contract Verification and Escrow Services”.

Meat smiled bemusedly to himself as the link blinked out. Glancing at the disheveled man on the ground beside him, moaning and rambling on about death and the fate of his men, he decided it was about time to share a little secret with the troubled soul. “U enshured?” he asked.

The man nodded weakly at him.

“Gud” Meat beamed. “Ow du U mak ah omlet?” he asked wickedly. The leader stared at him with a vacant and uncomprehending stare. Meat tapped at the controls of his datapad. Nearby the air surrounding a bush throbbed vibrantly several times, and the bush faded away, leaving in its place a several foot high assembly of an electronic jammer. “U crambul ah ew egghs” the trox giggled merrily.

Slowly the leader focused his sight on the electrical device, and understanding slowly dawned on him. “You scrambled their nano transmissions?” he hesitantly asked. “You Jammed their Resurrection?”

“Yup” Meat happily agreed as he re-enabled the hologram of the bush.
“But why? WHY?!?! You Son of a Bi~”
Un-holstering a pistol, Meat aimed point blank and fired.

Safely enshrined inside the cities defensive shields, Meat had little worry or concern of having to deal with more visits from the aliens. As a matter of fact, the organizational city being a small city lacking even a basic marketplace, and with no worries about resurrected org mates returning to the city thanks to his little jammer, he had no worries of having to deal with anyone. He guessed it might be a matter of weeks before the senior omni guilds sent some of their elite troops out to see what was going on, as they had currently been too busy with other concerns to even send an advisor to mentor their junior guild.

Slowly and methodically over the next few days he gutted, dissected, and looted everything of possible value or consequence from the corpses of the dead aliens as well as the bodies of the dead troopers. Bouncing a brain symbiant in his hands that he had retrieved from the remains of the now defunct junior guild leader, he was surprised that the young man had been able to afford such a valuable augmentation. He had definitely been tweaked out for someone so young.

At last he signaled for his yalm, and he started loading his bounty. If his tally was anywhere close to accurate, he was looking at 2 or 3 billion credits worth of armor, weapons, and technology. Not a bad haul. After he eventually got it all loaded, the yalm was so overloaded it would barely hover a few feet off of the ground. Nonplused, he shrugged to himself as he casually started hiking to the south with the yalm in toe. Somewhere way over the horizon to the south lay a public outpost facility with banks, vendors, and the desert whompah.

Casually he tapped at the controls of a hacked graft as he walked, and a few minutes later a reet was flying purposefully into the southern distance, with a yalm in close pursuit.

Scores of people had perished amidst the deserts of Rubi Ka. The extremes of temperatures, the lack of water or shelter, and the crystal clear air playing tricks and creating deceptive illusions of how far or near something truly was across the vast stretches of rock strewn sand. The light from the desert whompah shone like a guiding star on the horizon, a beacon in the darkness of the desert night. Meat knew to pace himself. The coolness of the night desert would boil away with the rising suns well before he reached the outpost.

Several hours later, seemingly nowhere nearer the outpost than he had been before, the rising suns had blazed over the horizon. Unexpectedly his datalink hummed to life. “Priority Notification. An exact match of your registered search parameters has been detected. Elapsed time since search was initiated: 3 months 1 week, 2 days, 16.07 hours. Subject detected accessing the Rimorian Public Grid Network.” If such a thing were possible while flying polymorphed in mid air, Meat damn near tripped over himself.

“F’Spy!” he cried to himself. Landing, he instantly terminated the polymorph program running in his ncu. The form of a reet swelled to gargantuan proportions, twisting, contorting, melting, until a few moments later his trox form was restored.

Months ago Fixerspy had literally disappeared without a trace off the face of the planet. Although this was not a terribly unusual occurrence for her, the total lack of weekly encrypted status messages from her was. He knew from experience that this always meant that something had gone seriously wrong with her intended plans. Fortunately for her, most of those times when things went astray, he had been with her. But not this last time. After her disappearance, he had literally traveled the length and breath of both Rubi Ka and the Shadowlands searching for any sign of her, failing to turn up anything. Several days later he had reluctantly activated an illicit grid tracker program and registered her vital statistics as the search parameters.

“Entry location: Borialis Public Grid Access Terminal, 1.500 seconds ago. Tracking… Tracking… Tracking…”The yalm drifted to a stop beside him. Reaching over he quickly snagged 5 packs that he carried most of his favorite gear in. The straps of the packs were inter-looped, daisy chaining them together like an oddly concocted belt.

“Data Grid Transmission lost. Unable to track grid transmission. Maximum transmission speed thresholds exceeded.” Deftly he slung the odd belt of packs around his waist and secured them into place, and then he quickly double-checked his armor, ranged weapons, and blades.

“Initiating Planet Wide Public Grid Terminal InfoSearch of exiting grid streams. Polling… Polling… Polling… Please Standby…” He would have to deal with the yalm and it’s trove of bounties later. Furiously he tapped at his datapad, entering instructions for the yalm to proceed on auto-pilot. Knowing that the overloaded vehicle would not be able to travel too great a distance, he selected a remote destination to the east, programming the vehicle to land and submerge itself it the sludge fill waters of a green toxic river that flowed near the eastern edge of the Newland Desert. Forcefully he slammed shut the cockpit hatch. Humming, it veered east and went on it’s way.

“Polling complete. 1 matching exit record found. Subject located. Exit location: Newland City Public Grid Access Terminal.” Accessing his list of nano programs, he selected one that mimicked the fixer profession and launched it. A few moments later the air imploded around him as he instantly gridded. Several seconds later, he exited at the Newland City Grid.

“F’SPY!” he screamed as he materialized, shoving several nearby people out of his way. “SPY!” Quickly he glanced about, scanning the nearby crowds, not seeing her. “FIXERSPY!” The desperate cry boomed into the distance, echoing off the cliffs “Fixerspy ixerspy erspy eri i”. The Militia Guards a short ways off guarding the gates of the city eyed him warily, uncertain of if this new disturbance posed any real threat.

Shaking with frustration, he tapped his comlink and tried to open a channel to her. Nothing. He tapped on the link again and again. It was of no use. Barely a minute had passed since his datalink had alerted him to Fixerspy’s detection in the grid. The speed at which he had managed to travel the distance from the deserts to the city would have impressed most of those whom were capable of hacking the grid. But his skills paled in comparison to hers. She had traversed the grid in mere seconds and was long since gone by the time he had arrived. Hoping to find her somewhere nearby inside the city gates, he started running. “SPY”.

He spent the next few hours feverishly dashing about in and around the city, searching…
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

A little info from the author.
{SIDEBAR ON}:
My apologies to those that may not be familiar with the saga of Meat’s and Fixerspy’s history of adventures. Those tales are scattered across several public and private websites (mostly private), some of which are no longer hosted.

Long story short, they are siblings, brother and sister. Mom and Dad arrived separately on the planet from nearby star systems, accidentally met each other in Newland, and fell in love. Dad was a crat scientist working for Omni-Tek, Mom was a Neut nanomage scientist with ICC, and their mixed factional marriage was all the excuse that a few corporate powers needed to justify doing some really nasty things. When Meat was born, Dads evil boss does a bunch of evil stuff, and the corporation told Mom and Dad that Meat had died at birth, and then shipped him to a bio-medics research facility and performed many horrible experiments on him. Although he looks like a trox, his true breed was a nanomage, just like mom and dad. His appearance and stature is actually the result of a failed experiment by Omni-tek to create a ‘blended breed’ thru genetic manipulation, to create the ultimate warrior. Meat has the exceptional blended strength, stamina, intelligence, and psychic abilities of a mage and trox combined, which makes him one hell of a multi-talented agent, but lacks any exceptional qualities of the human or optiflex breeds. At best he would be considered average or slightly above average in those breeds abilities, but on rare occasion is able to push past those limitations. Ironically, having his throat slit in battle as a youth left him with a life long speech disability that makes him sound, as well as look, like a typical dumb trox. And ironically this gives him an edge, as most people always underestimate his intelligence. Anyways, several years later Mom gets preggers with Spy, and after Dad has an argument with his evil boss, mom is also kidnapped and experimented on while Spy is still in the womb. Spy should have been a nanomage too, but turned out as an “enhanced’ optiflex. More about that in a bit. Dad discovers how evil his boss really is, kills him, and with his insider knowledge of the corporation he manages to pull off a one man commando raid to rescue his wife and unborn daughter, and his son Meat. They flee from the corporation, and crashland in the depths of the wilderness. Spy is born in the ruins of a wrecked shuttlecraft. After 2 and ½ years of surviving in the wilds, Omni-Tek eventually finds the family. Mom and Dad die trying to protect the kids, never to resurrect again under penalty of a Permanent Death Execution… Meat and Spy manage to survive on their own in the wilds for about 10 more years, until a rouge Neut Adv finds them. By this time Meat is around 20 and Spy is a neurotic 13 year old. Mom and Dad left behind a collection of very interesting data disk hidden around the planet, which they seek out and discover from time to time. The Neut Adv spends several years with the kids, moving them from outpost to outpost near the major cities, trying to expose them to civilization, but they are constantly getting themselves into trouble and running off back to the wilds when things get dicey. The Advy eventually disappears under mysterious circumstances and is rumored to have been permanently executed. Spy turns out to be an exceptional fixer, with some heightened intelligence, an obviously hyper neurotic personality, and a very bitchy mouth (blame that the trox genes they spliced into her). Omni-tek had long ago abandoned their research into creating blended breeds, but it is rumored that years later Jobe Scientist might have used some of the data from that research in creating the Keeper and Shade breeds. Anyways… back to the present… Meat and Spy are more or less the ultimate trouble twins, and may the gods have mercy on anyone that gets between them. And if one of them is in danger… you had better flee because it is the last place you want to hang around, for the other one will go to any lengths to save the other. If you are an innocent bystander, and they run past you trying to get away from some nasty, don’t be too surprised if Meat picks you up and chucks you at the mob as a tasty snack or Spy roots you to the spot as nice chew toy to distract the beast. But if you manage to befriend them, for better or for worse, you are stuck with them for life.

And now back to our story… {/Sidebar Off}

Meat dashed through the door of the Fair Trade store, almost colliding with a poor engi dressed in a white med-suit. Startled, the engi stumbled back before recovering himself. Meat rushed past him towards the bank terminals. “Daham!” he muttered.

Several times now he had received flash messages on his datalink. They had been deposit receipt notices from various bank accounts that he and Fixerspy used. Slapping several commands into his datapad, he rechecked the latest receipt. It was stamped with a terminal Id for Newland City, just as the others had been. For the past hour he had been running all over the city, hoping to find her. She had to be close, somewhere nearby.

“Weeble Weeble Weeble”. The sound of the robot distracted him. He looked aside and saw the engi hesitantly stepping towards him. “Excuse me, Sir. Can you he~” Meat cast a Feline Grace nanobuff on the short man before he could even finish his sentence. Normally he would have cared less about the needs of the strangers he meet in the stores, most of whom, like the engi, were running around dressed in white med-suits as they tried to find help implanting augmentations. But, as a force of habit, he always buffed engi’s and other tradeskillers when he could spare a few seconds. Tradeskillers were good friends to have when you needed a favor. “Tha~” he barely heard as he rushed out of the store.

Outside he paused, trying to decide where to look next. Gunfire echoed faintly in the distance to the east. It seemed the fates had decided for him. “Spy” he sighed. He wondered, as was true far too often whenever he went is search of her, if trouble had found her first. He faded into the shadows along side the buildings and started sneaking towards the east side of the city.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Please don’t hurt us!” The two women, eyes wide with fear, carefully watched Pax for any indication that she might squeeze the tigger of the smg she had pointed at them. Nolan Deslandes and Misa Ramirez had a boutique set up off the corridor near the entry doorway of Reuters in one of the side rooms. Although they were no strangers to the violence that ravaged Rubi Ka, they were terrified that this unwelcome visitor to their store might kill them without provocation. A few minutes earlier, a moment before Pax reached the front door of the bar, she heard the wail of the cities sirens. Prudently she had stepped into the side room, almost stumbling over the two women. Gunfire had raged outside for several brief moments, followed by cries of “to the whompahs!”

Pax eyed them warily. They were not armed and posed no real threat. “Count to 100, and then pretend we never met. Do not” she warned, “follow after me.” The two women, glancing at each other, nodded in understanding. From outside the victorious cheers died away to be replaced by the rushing cadence of steps running into the distance. A moment later, Pax stepped quickly out of the boutique and out the door of Reuters.

Cautiously Pax stepped past the bodies sprawled around the food court plaza outside of the bar. They appeared to be mostly omni-pol troops, the bodies leading like a trail of breadcrumbs towards an alleyway of a nearby apartment complex. She knew where that alleyway lead… into the backyard of the residentail complex and eventually to the junkyard, locally known as a neutral training ground, where she had resurrected after shooting herself. A faint misty cloud, made of countless microscopic nanites, started to form over their motionless remains. The resurrection process of the dead troops was starting.

Nafen? Had he known this was coming? Had he tried to warn her? Was that the reason for his sudden departure? Staring at the trail of bodies it was obvious they had tracked her from her resurrection site. And for this many troops to have entered from the backyards, there was only one way they could have entered the city undeterred. A transport ship.

She stepped gingerly over to the Bronto Bar, peeking up the hill. She saw countless militia and defenders rallying around the whompahs, hastily preparing to defend the city. Suddenly the whompahs flared with an overwhelming brilliance and humming scream as a torrent of combatants streamed through. Instantly they were engaged and the pitched sounds of horrendous battle swelled, spilling through the streets in all directions. To the north, on the ramparts by the prison, the sounds of a second furious battle erupted. The warning shouts of “Dust Brigades” were quickly drowned out by the sounds of numerous explosions and weapons fire.

She was pissed. Racked with desperation to silence the maddening and unwelcome voice within, she had self terminated in hopes that she would finally be free of it. That failing, she had sought out Nafen, seeking a way off of this gods forsaken hell hole, with the intent of finding peace somewhere amongst the stars. Instead she had been tracked, ambushed, and almost plucked into the grasp of unseen foes as easily as trade hunters harvested bronto meat to supply the burger bar nearby. The thought of how easily she was almost snared like hapless prey caused a furious anger to course through her veins. And now she was moments away from being swept up in the fires of the war that sparked and raged frequently without warning across the planet.

Enough was enough. It was time for the hunted to become the hunter, for the prey to feast upon it’s would be predators. There had to be a transport ship waiting at the proving grounds. And somewhere, in that ships computer were the orders that had sent them here, and with it a clue as to whom was after her and what the hell was going on. It was a long shot… but it was a start.

The roar of engines overhead alerted her. Glancing up she saw the newly arrived transport as it came in for a landing, it’s ramp down and heavily armored black figures posed for battle the moment it touched down.
“Unicorns” she swore to herself. Without hesitation she dashed across to the Apartment #5 complex and through it’s residential backyard. A moment later she entered the cities Junkyard, intent on not letting anyone get between her and the information she sought.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

She crept silently into the Junkyard proving grounds. And there, parked beside the nearby ruinous buildings with its vending machines and reclaim terminal, was the ship that she knew was waiting. A trooper, presumably the pilot or co-pilot, loitered beside the reclaim, pistol in hand, as if waiting expectantly to capture the next person that resurrected at the terminal.

Closer at hand, slightly ahead of her and to the right, was the hulking figure of the guard that kept an eye on the junkyard. He was preoccupied watching the pilot at the reclaims. Deftly Pax sneaked up behind him. He collapsed silently into a lifeless heap as she stabbed her blade into the base of his neck, twisting, instantly severing his spinal column.

The co-pilot was a bit trickier to deal with. She could not risk his alerting anyone that might still be in the ship. Cautiously she closed the distance behind him. She clasped one hand over his mouth, and dragged her blade viciously across his neck, deeply slicing his throat. Blood spewed in an arc onto the ground as she dragged his spasiming body away and dumped it beside the guards.

Two down, one to go. Almost in a relaxed fashion she strolled over to the transport, and peering cautiously up the ramp, her su****ions were confirmed. She could see the partial form of the pilot sitting at the controls of the ship. Glancing back over towards the now abandoned reclaim, it was all too obvious what their plan had been. Too bad for them. It might have worked, except that luck, for once, had been on her side. The sounds of the battle waging in the city intensified, echoing over the cliff walls.

Silently Pax stepped up the ramp and entered the ship.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

don't miss the next exciting episode, as Pax unwittingly tries to kill Fixerspy!

woot great writing!! Keep it up!

(( Gorramnit F'spy, would you pretty please w/ sugar on top continue? Writers block, eh? :p ))

hee. sorry. real life threw me a curve ball. am dusting off the transcript and sitting down with it this evening to make some more edits.

Tears streamed down Fixerspy’s face, blurring her vision as she ran. Meat was dying before her eyes. He was sacrificing himself and there was nothing she could do to stop it. An emotional fury burned inside her as she desperately tried to think of a way to save him. Choking, she fought back a fresh wave of new tears as she tried to deny the hopelessness of the situation. But try as she might, no matter how fast she ran or how furiously she kited, she could not escape the fear she felt about the undeniable truth. He was going to die so that she might have a chance to live. Nothing would shake his resolve in this. Not her tears, or her cries, or her begging or her pleading.

She had spammed his datalink in desperation, as she kited, insisting that they try to find another way, that they make a run for it, that they dash furiously into the unknown distances in hopes of eluding the waves of aliens. “No, 2 late. Sa-rouded” had been his only respond before he turned off his link. In his cold calculating way, he had understood how desperate the situation would become even before she had, and had quietly resolved to what his fate would be. As the first wave of aliens had surrounded them and massed to attack the ruins of the wrecked transport ship, he had looked at her and at Pax, and had said “Kite round meh”. He said it in a manner that made it clear there would be no discussion. He was hell bound and determined that she was going to live, even if it meant sacrifice himself to save her, and nothing would stop or deter his resolve. It was the undeniable love that a big brother had for his little sister.

Trembling, a spasm of emotion racked her body as she circled in a wide arch, a train of aliens madly chasing after her. Stumbling, she just managed to side step the lunge of the alien scout as she prepared to start the return loop of her kite. An eerie light leaped forth as she cast an area snare. Quickly she took aim and pumped several burst and fling shots into the nearest scouts with her T5-SMG, softening them up for Meat to finish off once she had dragged the train back to them. Spamming snares between reloads, she continued to fire point blank into train as she slowly retreated the last few yards towards the turn about point she had picked out, from where she would make a bee line back towards Meat. “Ready?” she asked. “Ya” Pax breathlessly replied over the team chat channel.

“Go!” In a fluid motion Spy fired off one last burst, cast another snare, reached into the bag slung over her shoulder and slammed home a speed stim. Turning, she ran like the furies of hell towards the horizon. In the distance before her Meat stood in the midst of a triangle of flaming Cyborg towers, the smoking silhouette of the transport ship slightly to the rear a short ways behind him. Further beyond in the distance, also dashing towards Meat, Pax dragged a train of snared mobs towards him as well. He was the focal point of their kiting paths, where their paths would cross in the middle of the figure eight’s they ran.

As she grew near, Spy fought down another welling of emotions. Meat stood in the middle of the remnants of the last train they had pulled, solo’ing the last several beast as they swarmed over him. His normally deft movements were slow, faltering, hampered by his wounds. His armor was streaked with gore and blood. It was badly damaged, severely cracked and dented, dozens of small severed and broken pinchers protruding out of it from numerous spots. Aliens had a nasty preference to impale their victims and rip their bodies asunder. Methodically Meat had severed their limbs whenever they had found purchase in his armor. The severed pincers dangling from him and the armor, flinging about as he moved, giving him the gory appearance of being some oversized mutantous pincushion. Several enormous pinchers had completely impaled him, protruding out both sides of his body. One had been pierced completely through his left shoulder, another through his right thigh, and the last, only partially impaling him, stuck out from his back, underneath his right shoulder blade. His entire form was surrounded by a thick cloud of furious nanobots working to mend his injuries.

Reaching Meat, Pax and Spy both turned their weapons on the nearest of the last few mobs swarming him, and made quick work of them. Spy refreshed a hot on him, then she and Pax dashed over to the borg towers from which several bags were hung. Quickly they fetched out extra tower disc, ammo, and meds, and tossed them in a pile on the ground between them. “Sav da Med~” Meat started to say… “Shut up” Spy retorted as she stimmed him with a first aide kit.

They had only moments before the dual trains she and Pax had been kiting reached them. Quickly they rebuffed and prepared. Meat plunged the tips of his blades back into the ground on either side of him, for easy retrieval, and flinching, tried to bend over to grab up his T12 rifle. Spy quickly knelt to get it for him, and handed it to him along with several ammo clips. Across from her Pax had already taken up one of the rifles, and was taking aim. Spy slammed a clip home on the sniper rifle she had picked up and sighted on the nearest alien. “Last wave?” Spy asked hopefully. A moment later her hopes were dashed by Paxes edgy response. “Nope. Another wave is massing”

Simultaneously the trio started spamming roots on the mobs as the kited trains reached them, keeping them just out of physical range, and focusing fire on the nearest ones to quickly kill them. Over the next few minutes they fired at will, cutting down the snared and rooted aliens from the last wave. “New Wave Inbound!” Pax cried. “****” Spy muttered. There were still a dozen mobs from the old wave left that were rooted around them. “Go!” Meat commanded as he tossed down his rifle and grabbed up his blades again. Almost casually, despite his wounds, he hobbled over to the nearest alien and proceeded to hack it asunder.

Pax and Spy rushed out in opposite directions to meet the new wave, leaving Meat to solo the handful of leftovers. Silently, fearing for Meat, Spy offered up a prayer to the gods that they would all live through this day…

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
A few hours earlier that day…

Fixerspy furrowed her brows in concentration. Most of the controls of the transport ship were similar in design to that of her yalm, but some of the controls were completely foreign to her. Having learned to pilot an array of yalms, land vehicles, and water craft over the years, she was not troubled about her unfamiliarity with the transport. Her main frustration was trying to figure out where the hell the controls were to raise the rear access ramp of the ship.

Hoping to gain access to an onboard tech or maintenance manual, Spy accessed the ships data console. The screen flickered to life, displaying the photo and bio of some Omni-Tek citizen that was wanted on a priority warrant. “Ah, that explains a few things” Spy thought to her self as she noticed that the individual was a fixer by profession. Shrugging to her self, she tapped at the console, cleared the screen, and referenced a schematic of the ships design. “Ah Ha!” she muttered excitedly, hunching over the screen to study the diagrams of the ships controls. Glancing briefly out the cockpit window to check on the pilot, she ignored the growing rumbling sounds of battle echoing from the city and refocused on her attention on the data console. Absorbed, she lost track of time…

Danger! Instinctual, born out of years of bare bones brutal survival in the wilds of the wastelands, the warning flashed through her mind… triggered by some sense, some out of place perception, perhaps a smell, a sound, a shadow, something… she knew not which,… that ignited her instinctual awareness of eminent danger and her desire for survival. Unexpectedly, time suddenly slowed to a crawl as she instinctively perked her evasions in response to the barely sensed danger. A split second later a proximity alert flashed across her datalink. Her body contorted as she attempted to spin towards the unseen threat, the smg in her lap tumbling down, almost floating in mid air in its slow fall to the floor of the cockpit. A cruel gleaming blade floated silently through the air past her head, aimed at a spot where only a split second before the back of her head had been as she had bent over the ships computers. “Arks?” she started to think to herself. No. If it had been, she would already have been dead. “The Pilot” she wondered hastily… No… he would have just shot at her. Reaching, her thoughts raced to the battle in the city… but it still seemed far away… Then who~?

Snatching the smg out of mid air, in what seemed like an eternity, she managed to turn full round in the cockpit chair, took aim, and fired a burst at the feminine figure standing in the cockpit doorway. With feline grace the figure easily sidestepped the bullets that floated seemingly forever thru the air. “Damn it! A fixer professional!”

Firing another burst, Spy launched herself past the woman as she dodged the fresh spray of bullets. “Click” the sound echoed thru the ships small compartments. Landing near the end of the cargo bay by the ramp, Fixerspy spun round firing again. A grenade landed with a thump beside her. Snatching it up, she hurled it out of the ship just before it exploded. The shock wave knocked her onto the floor of the ship, tearing her smg from her grasp and flinging it gods knew where. Stunned, she rolled over, coming face to face with the unknown fixer, whom was now holding Spy’s other smg, which she had left on one of the seats in the cockpit, pointed point blank at her head.

Time froze completely… Faint music, reminiscent of the soothing music from the Shadowlands gardens, grew ever increasingly into a forceful and vengeful roar that coursed thru her entire mind and body as an enormous surge of power coursed throughout her entire being… as her body was polymorphed with the blessed enlightenment and abilities of her shadow breed...

Rolling away with an increadible speed… whilst time and reality lay momentairily frozen in comparison to her heightened abilities, Spy regained her feet and snatched her smg from her opponent just as time started to unfreeze. A spray of bullets bounced off the ship’s floor where she had lain a moment before.

Their eyes meet as Spy stared defiantly, furiously at the other fixer, rage coursing thru her. She should have killed this woman before the moment had passed, before the effects of her shadow breed had faded… There was a reason that a fixer dual was called the Slow Waltz of Death… due to their skills, it was damn near impossible for one skilled fixer to kill another unless they had a lot of patience or surprise on their side. But
she wanted answers to what the hell was going on, to why this rogue omni fixer had tried to kill her for no apparent reason in a neutral city. Her stare was returned with a similar fierce glare. Slowly the crawling eternity of her heightened senses started to fade back to normal time space as they stared guardedly at each other, waiting for the other to make the next move. Spy took a full measure of the woman standing opposite of her, and recognition slowly dawned within her. It was the woman she had seen on the ships console, wanted by the Omni-Pol forces. As she stared at the woman, she noticed a puzzled and confused look spreading across her features as she took in Fixerspy’s clannish features.

Just as time returned to normal, an brutish trox figure materialized between them, and slammed Pax into the sidewall of the ship. His queen blade sliced thru the air, descend forcefully with the intent of cleaving her head into. Abruptly he hesitated in his swing as a voice hissed forcefully from behind him, commanding, “Meat, Relax!” Confused by the directive from Spy, he held the blade at bay only inches from Pax, ready to dispatch death if she so much as wiggled in a manner he didn’t like.

Meat glared vengefully at Pax for several seconds as he held her pinned to the sidewall. “U sur?” he asked hesistantly, barely turning his head as he posed the question to Spy. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s ok. Let her go.” Spy reassured him. Meat stared at her a few more seconds, slowly backing the sword-blade away from Paxes throat, before letting her go. Almost absentmindedly, he briefly looked down, and almost seemingly for the first time, noticed the dagger that Pax had reflectively plunged hilt deep into his shoulder when he had materialized before her. Luckily for him it had skidded across his armor before finding purchase… she had been aiming for his throat…

“Dear” Spy called over to Pax… “Would you mind putting the clip back in that grenade? Be a shame if we all got blown up before introductions were made”.

“Sure” Pax replied cautiously as she eyed Meat.

“Meat, give the lady back her butter knife.” Spy said condescendingly as she watched Pax. “K.” he grunted. Without so much as a flinch he reached up and pulled the dagger out, and handed it towards her, hilt extended, with blood still dripping off the blade. “Here u go”.



Stay tuned for more adventures... and find out how this trio end up fighting to the death against hordes of aliens...

:p