Ashes to ashes...

[Dule05]

The dreams never really stopped for Dule... not dreams...nightmares. They would come to Dule nearly every night, no matter how much he tried to block them out or try to forget...they would come to him and haunt him with no remorse. For this reason Dule would go through many sleepless nights, simply sitting up in his apartment, cleaning his weapon and drinking his whiskey.

To fully understand the reason for Dule's nightmares, one would have to know about his past on Rubi-Ka, and Dule's past is one that begins back not long after people began settling on Rubi-Ka. Dule wanted a simple life on Rubi-Ka, he joined up with the Clans as a trader of goods, legal or illegal, it made no difference to Dule really as he could sell both equally well. For the most part, Dule's life was a normal one for about a year or two, but then something would happen that would set off a chain of events eventually leading up to Dule's current situation as a Soldier with Omni-Tek.

(Many years ago)

*riiiiiing* *riiiiiing* *riiiiiing*
The sound of the alarm clock going off in Dule's ear jarred him from the pleasant dream he was having about the girl that works at the bronto burger down the street. Dule sat up and rubbed his face.
*riiiiing* *riiiiing* *riiii...* *SMASH*
Dule sat and stared at the spot that the alarm clock had smashed into a million pieces at on his wall for awhile before getting up and heading over to a small table that stood in the corner of his apartment. As he poured himself a small glass of whiskey, Dule flipped on the television and listened in to what was going on around Rubi-Ka.

"On a recent note today, an apartment building in Omni-1 was bombed last night, casualties are believed to be high and the name of the Dust Brigade has been mentioned..."

Dule glanced at the television on this note and saw the remains of an apartment building in Omni-1, blown to hell and still smoking.

"Looks like the Dust Brigade is growing some balls..." Dule mumbled before downing the whiskey in his glass and turning off the television.

Throwing on some beat up nomad armor and a trenchcoat over it, Dule grabbed up his Ithaca shotgun and headed out the door of his apartment, ready for another day of work in Tir. Emerging from his apartment in downtown Tir, Dule strolled down the street, shotgun resting on his shoulder, on his way to the Fair Trade square which is where he conducted the majority of his business.

The typical work day for Dule was usually very boring and uneventful but this day would be different, in ways it would be the single most important day in Dule's life. After several hours of peddling his wares outside of Fair Trade, Dule began heading to the bronto burger stand for some lunch, but he never made it there, instead he was intercepted by a pair of Omni-Pol officers. Dule's first reaction when he saw the officers dressed in black armor was simply "what in the hell are Omnis doing in Tir" but that question would be answered soon enough as the officers forced Dule into a side alley.

"Pleasant day isn't it Clanner? We've got a few questions for you particularly, Max "Dule" Kenley." The officer said as he glanced at a screen on his com unit, probably for Dule's name. "You've probably already heard about the bombing last night, have you?"

Dule glared at the officer, "What the hell right is it of yours to interrogate me in a Clan city?"

The officer lowered his weapon to his side, "Oh, we can easily take this to a secured Omni-1 interrogation room if you want."

"That won't be neccessary, but I don't know anything about that bombing if that's what you're getting at." Dule glanced at the other officer who had brought up his assault rifle to his waist and had it leveled on Dule's chest.

"We have reason to believe you do, do you have any connections to the Dust Brigade, Max?"

"May have sold a few guns to a member, but I sell to everyone, I can't be expected to remember for sure."

Just then the second officer brought up a knee into Dule's stomach and grabbed his shotgun from him, "Listen you Clanner piece of ****, I don't have time for this, we have reason to believe that you were involved in the sale of the weapon used to bomb the apartment building in Omni-1 last night, so fess up to it and Ivan may decide to go easy on you."

Dule gasped for air as his weapon has stripped from him, "I told you dammit, I don't know anything about that bombing, I don't even deal in explosives!"

The second officer backed off enough to allow Dule to stand back up then without warning struck Dule in the face with the butt of his assault rifle, sending him flying against the concrete wall of the alleyway, "I'm not afraid to kill you in your own city, Clanner, as a matter of fact I would enjoy it very much, but we have our orders and we need the information you have on that explosive."

Just then the first officer received a call on his com unit and stepped out of hearing range.

Dule spit blood on the visor of the second officer's helmet and smiled, "Kill me and you wouldn't get two steps without every Clanner in Tir filling your Omni ass with lead."

The first officer stepped over and spoke to the second officer, "He isn't our guy, they have another lead, that was Ivan we need to get back to base."

The second officer looked to the first officer then back to Dule, "We shall see Clanner, we shall see."

*BOOM*

The shot rang loud and clear in Dule's ears and he noticed the second officer's assault rifle leveled at his chest with smoke drifting from the barrel, then he felt the pain, the searing, numbing pain in his chest and spine. As Dule slid down the wall, leaving a bloody trail behind him, he heard the first officer, "Dammit man, you didn't have to kill him, that's more paper work for us, lets get the hell back to Omni-1."

"Don't worry about it...they won't make us file any extra paper work over a pathetic dead Clanner..."

That was all Dule heard before everything went black and he was welcomed by the reclaim terminal with the searing mind pains and burning sensation throughout his entire body...

((To be continued... I plan on writing quite a bit on this story, all the way up to the present since this particular part took place a while after release.))

[Dule05]

Reclaim was something that no one can really get used to as it seems to grow more and more intense after every visit; the pain in your skull as if it's going to implode on itself, the sensation throughout your entire body as if it is about to spontaniously combust and of course the horrible sounds...wails of sorts. Reclaim is something Dule had come to accept as part of this new life on Rubi-Ka, however he always had his doubts, how many times could a person's soul be shoved into a new body before that soul is no longer your own?

Dule sat down near the reclaim terminal, clutching his shotgun to his chest, trying to figure out what had just happened back in the alley. What gave Omni-Tek the right to march into a Clan city and interrogate then kill a Clan member all on a lead that turned out to be wrong in the end anyway. Surprisingly, at that time Dule was just as angry at the Council of Truth and Henry Radiman as he was at Omni-Tek and Phillip Ross; how could Radiman and the Council sit idly by while Clanners are being subjected to this kind of treatment in the safety of their own cities. Dule clutched his shotgun tighter as he continued to think on the current situation of the Clans, and the more he thought about it the angrier he got, the Clans needed someone to take action.

Near the grid terminal in the heart of Tir, in an alley hidden from the crowds of people going on with their daily lives, two individuals met in secret, speaking in whispers despite the secure surroundings they found themselves in.

The large Atrox held his assault rifle securely in his grasp during the entire meeting, not even hinting to Dule of a name, the only thing Dule knew him as was Mr. Black, "Yes, Dule, it seems promising but you will need to speak to my superior before we move forward." Just as Mr. Black spoke these words he turned and listened to his com unit, "I understand...yes...I'll relay the information...out." Mr. Black turned back to Dule, "The Happy Rebel, two hours, clear?"

"Yeah, I got it, and thanks again Mr. Black."

Mr. Black gave a nod and walked back into the grid terminal square, disappearing into the large crowd.

Dule strolled into the Happy Rebel bar five minutes later then he was supposed to, shaking his head he headed into the room at the end of a long hall where he was told to meet Mr. Black's superior.

"You're late." The man who Dule concluded was Mr. Black's superior was a tall man with slightly long black hair, a long black trenchcoat and a pair of keelar sunglasses, Dule also noticed the Vektor shotgun leaning against the wall near where he sat. "Have a seat, I'll be with you shortly."

Dule sat down in the chair opposite the man and watched him as he spoke with someone on his com unit, then put it away and looked at Dule for awhile before speaking again. "I hear you might just have what it takes, Dule, Mr. Black says you can get ahold of just about any weapon on the planet or not on it for that matter, is this true?"

Dule nodded slowly, "That's true, I have my connections, sir."

The man looked to Dule's Ithaca, "You any good with that?"

Dule brought the shotgun up to his lap and looked at it, "For the most part, nothing fancy I'm afraid."

The man let a small smirk creep onto his face, "We'll have to remedy that then."

"Then I'm in?"

The man and Dule both rose to their feet and shook hands, "Welcome to the Dust Brigade, Max "Dule" Kenley."

A sinister smile began to spread across Dule's face, the Dust Brigade was just the type of organization Dule was looking for.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

The Dust Brigade...an organization viewed as vigilantes...criminals...even terrorists, by both Omni and Clan. The Dust Brigade is viewed this way because of their "extreme" actions towards Omni-Tek...and Clans alike. Dule's first meeting with the rest of the Dust Brigade proved much of what he expected all along; numbers were not on their side, in fact, the Dust Brigade was a rather small organization, but their impact on the events of Rubi-Ka would never be questioned. The meeting was a simple one for the most part, addressing issues with former members who were leaking information and Clans that have come but one step away from waging open war on the Dust Brigade. After the larger meeting had been adjourned, Dule was introduced to the leader of the Dust Brigade, Bayala. Bayala was an attractive Opifex female who carried a particularly nasty looking machine gun with her at all times...Dule noticed the notches carved on the side of it and concluded each one to represent a victim of Bayala's...Dule saw notches all over both sides and estimated well over two hundred.

"Well, well, it looks like we have gained a new crusader. Dule, it was? I hear you have plenty of connections that we can make use of." Bayala gave a smirk.

"Aye, I've got plenty of connections." Dule looked around at his surroundings in the small Borealis slum he was standing in.

"I also hear that we need to get you some proper combat training with that thing." Bayala pointed to Dule's shotgun which hung from his right hand at his side. "Lets get right on that, I trust you don't have any plans at the moment?"

And so, it was over the course of the next few months that Dule was instructed in the art of ranged combat by Bayala and her lieutenants. The training was rigorous and Dule was deprived of sleep most of the time, but he felt at home in the training, as if the art of killing was his reason for being on this god forsaken planet. Over the course of those few short months, Dule had nearly rivaled Bayala in ranged combat...but ranged combat was not all he had been training in...nanotechnology is a large part of combat on Rubi-Ka and Dule had grown in power from his simple computer literacy training programs; he was now capable of draining the essence from his enemy, essentially "trading" nothing in return for their former energy. It was after Dule had mastered these new nano-programs that his training came to an end.

Two short months and many missions after Dule had completed his training, he received an urgent call on his com unit while having a drink at the Happy Rebel bar. The message read..."2Ho, heavy resistance, all available Clanners report at once! Heavy combat preparations necessary." Apparantly it was a global message sent out to any Clanner capable of receiving it. Dule finished the whiskey he was drinking and thought on this message, then paid the bartender and headed to his apartment to prepare for combat.

The scene in 2Ho was a grisly one. As many people know, 2Ho is an Omni outpost so resistance was expected should the Clans attack it, but Dule had never seen anything like this before. Bodies of soldiers of the Clans littered the ground as far as Dule could see, and roving throughout the fields of dead were the manifestations of Omni-Tek metaphysicist's rage. Dule had entered the outpost from a different angle then the others who gridded directly into the killing fields, completely outnumbered as soon as they appeared.

Dule pulled down his vision enhancer over his right eye and scoped out the outpost, searching for any snipers or gun emplacements that may cause unecessary problems for him. Dule saw no gun emplacements but he could pick out two agents crouched off on the outskirts of the outpost, looking for more Clanner victims. Dule continued scouting, noticing the Omni soldiers near the grid terminal, the grid terminal that had been painted red by the constant application of fresh blood from the fools who gridded in to 2Ho.

Dule checked his shotgun's chamber and readied several first-aid stims on his belt, should he be hit, which he didn't intend on anyway but it never hurt to expect the unexpected.

"Bastards will pay today..." Dule jacked an extra shell into his shotgun, "I will let none of you leave here..." Another shell into the chamber, "No more unecesary deaths today, only the necessary killing of Omni scum..." The final shell slid into place and Dule cocked his weapon loudly, caring not about giving away his position, "Today, you all will remember the name of THE DUST BRIGADE!" Dule made his point by yelling the last part of this and charging over the hill he had been hiding behind. The first shot was delivered with deadly accuracy to one of the agents on the outer perimeter, creating a bloody mess on the other stunned agent's face. The other agent did not have time to react as a second slug was sent deep within his chest only to exit through a hole in his backside two times the size of the entrance point.

Dule turned in time to see the soldiers near the grid crouch and open fire at him, and he reacted quickly, running behind a merchants booth as bullets riddled the side of it. The shooting stopped and the soldiers began to inch closer, weapons still readied.

"When you bastards reach reclaim, remember the name of the Dust Brigade!" Dule poked his barrel out around the corner of the booth and fired off a slug at the point soldier's knee cap. The slug made it's way through the soldier's knee cap and continued on through a second soldier's thigh.

The soldier's screams of pain made Dule flinch alittle as he stepped out into view. The third soldier fired at him, and Dule wasn't sure if it was the soldier's fear or lack of experience, but whatever it was the soldier missed every shot he fired at Dule. The third soldier was sent to reclaim quickly as Dule sent a shot right to the soldier's head, creating yet another bloody pool on the already bloodstained ground. Dule stopped over the still screaming Omni soldiers and peered down at them through the visor in his helmet.

"Ashes to ashes...dust to dust..." And with that Dule ended their lives, shivering as he looked down at their mangled bodies afterwards.

Dule did not forget the metaphysicists, but neither them or their manifestations were to be seen anymore; they had fled, a wise choice in Dule's mind.

One man stood on the field of battle, his armor covered in blood from his victims, the ground covered in blood from his comrades, his gun ejected the final spent shell and the barrel smoked as a serene and somewhat peaceful silence fell across the outpost. This scene would haunt Dule through his dreams for the rest of his life, and he knew it right then and there.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

The vision of the bodies of his comrades haunted Dule yet again. Omni-Tek bodies littered the same battlefield, and for some reason or another, Dule concentrated more on the fallen bodies of the Omni-Tek troopers. It was by his hand that these men had fallen, and it was his gun that had created the grisly mess that now haunted him so. Dule moved through the fields of the dead at 2Ho and as he passed a fallen Omni-Tek soldier he heard a mumble. Dule kneeled by the Omni-Tek soldier and removed his helmet, listening to the words that this dying man was uttering.

"Time...soon...*cough* *cough* ..." The soldier snapped his head around with ghostly speed and stared into Dule's eyes. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." With those words the body of the soldier turned to dust in Dule's hands.

As Dule rose from the ground he stared across the field of death where a lone figure now stood; a figure covered in shadows so that Dule could not make out the face or armor, only the figure of an Atrox...an Atrox with a very big sword. The devilish red sword swayed at the figure's side, then was brought up to it's shoulder as it began charging towards Dule. Dule could not move, could not raise his weapon, could not speak. The figure barreled towards Dule with demon-like speed, still covered in shadows, with the red sword raised high above its head. The figure was within striking distance and brought the blade down with frightening force, intent on cleaving Dule in two.

"Damn!" Dule yelled as he sat upright in his bed.

Dule held his head in his hands, contemplating this new dream...it had been the worse thus far and it had been weeks since the battle at 2Ho. What frightened Dule even more was the presence of this new figure in his dream, before it had just been visions of the soldiers dying or the aftermath of the battle, never before had another living being been seen that wasn't present at the battle.

Dule rose and poured himself a shot of whiskey...then another...and another. Dule would try to forget this new dream he decided, it's probably for the best to do so. Gathering his strength for the day, Dule picked up his shotgun, threw on his armor and trenchcoat and headed out into the bustling city of Borealis.

The Dust Brigade had deemed it intelligent to move Dule out of Tir because of the recent conflict the Dust Brigade had had with Henry Radiman, the unspoken leader of the Council of Truth. Dule was moved into an apartment in one of the slums of Borealis, the city where most of the Dust Brigade had apartments themselves.

Dule met up with Bayala at a small building not far from the grid terminal in Borealis, she had informed him of a mission that needed his attention immediately and said that she would give him more details at this location.

"Ah, Dule, good to see you up and about before the sun has set." Bayala joked as Dule had a tired look plastered on his face.

Dule chuckled a bit, "What was it about this mission?"

"We have reason to believe that a certain...group...of people has taken sides against us and are threatening to turn us in to Omni-Pol."

"On what charge?" Dule half said, half mumbled.

Bayala smirked a bit, "You remember about a month ago that little business with the apartment building in Omni-1? Well they claim to have proof it was us, which is absurd as I'm sure you know."

"Yeah...right. What group of people has those kind of resources if you don't mind me asking?"

Bayala handed Dule a sheet of paper with the name of the group and that group's president, "Heard of them?"

Dule suddenly snapped wide awake as he looked at the form he had just been handed, "Dammit, Bayala, this is a Clan." Dule looked back to Bayala who had a look of doubt on her face, "You want me to take out a Clan president? You've gotta be joking."

"What's wrong Dule? Lately you've turned in to quite the killer, I'm sure you'd have no problem with this target."

"It's not a question of being able to or not." Dule shifted a little bit, still trying to process the information. "It's a damn CLAN president. I don't feel right even talking about killing a president of the Clans."

Bayala put an arm around Dule's shoulders, "Dule, let me tell you something about this world we live in. Sometimes sacrifices must be made, sometimes comrades have to be the ones who get sacrificed. You must believe me when I tell you that this person and her organization have been in contact with Omni-Tek and have threatened to turn us in to them." Bayala gave what Dule thought to be the most evil looking smile he had ever seen at that moment, "This is the way of things in our kind of life, Dule." She then stepped back away from him. "You have your orders, Dule, I trust that you will not screw this up." With that Bayala produced a curved blade from her cloak and handed it to Dule before disapearing into the crowded streets of Borealis city.

Dule stared at the dagger in his hand, then placed it inside of his trenchcoat. "The way of things...right..." Dule mumbled as he made his way down the street.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

It was pouring down rain in the cold city of Athens that night. Dule leaned against the wall to a building not far away from The Cup, the hood on his black cloak pulled up over his head. Dule took a drag on his cigarette as he looked down the semi-busy street that he now found himself in, people going about their daily lives, oblivious to the cloaked figure hiding the Ithaca shotgun under his cloak, oblivious to what was about to take place in one of the run down apartment buildings in the simple town. Dule sighed as he threw down his cigarette; he didn't even smoke, but that night he needed something to calm his nerves and he knew that too many drinks would make him sloppy, and that couldn't happen, not tonight.

Dule took one last look around at his surroundings then felt the cold blade of the curved ritualistic dagger where it hung from his belt, this sent a shiver down Dule's spine. With everything set, Dule entered the building that he had been leaning against, expecting security cameras, motion detectors, security droids or something but he was greeted by an empty dust colored room with a single door opposite the one he had just come through.

Once inside the building Dule shed his black cloak and pulled his vision enhancer down over his right eye; just because the entrance room was clear didn't mean the others were. Dule began creeping through the apartment, looking for any signs of life, but all he found was a bunch of beat up furniture and some electronic equipment as well as some discarded clothes, suggesting someone was still living here. As Dule moved through what he concluded was the living room he heard noise coming from the other side of the apartment, down a hall. Dule crept as quietly as he could down the hall and when he reached the doorway to the room that the noise was coming from he paused and took a deep breath. The automatic doors opened for Dule as soon as he stepped in front of them and the two people on the other side seemed very surprised to see him. The woman seemed the most surprised however, quickly grabbing for the sheets to cover her naked body while the solitus man began to say something to Dule, "You son of a..." Dule didn't let him finish. With one slug the man was sent flying against the wall before bouncing back to the floor, leaving a bloody mess that seemed to hit just about every part of the room. Dule stood there with an emotionless look on his face as he cocked the shotgun, loading another fatal round into its chamber.

The woman had let out a deafening scream when the man hit the wall but it was drowned out for the most part by the sound of the Ithaca. The woman now sat in her bed quietly sobbing to herself as she looked at the man's dead body then back to Dule, "What the hell do you want!?"

Dule seemed to move like a robot, setting down the shotgun, drawing the dagger and grabbing the woman by her throat with his free hand, "You've been talking to the wrong people, haven't you?"

The woman's eyes got wide as she saw the dagger, "I won't tell them anything, I swear, just don't kill me, please!" The woman's voice was frantic and mixed in with the sound of her sobs.

"Tell...who!?" Dule wouldn't take Bayala's word for it, he had to know for himself.

"Please! Please don't kill me!" The woman's sobs had turned into cries of fear.

"Dammit, who are you selling information to!!??"

"Omni-Tek!" The woman cried in a torn voice that was full of fear.

Dule's eyes went blank and he pulled the woman close to him, and as he did the dagger was plunged into her chest, seeking to puncture her heart.

The woman stopped crying and made several gurgling and coughing sounds before looking up at Dule and finally going limp. Dule dropped the woman and stood up, removing the dagger as he did so, he looked down at the woman's corpse, blood flowing like a river from the wound that the dagger had made. A sense of vertigo threatened to knock Dule off his feet as he stumbled a couple of steps in the blood soaked room. The man would arrive at reclaim, but the woman would enjoy no such luxury, Dule knew what the curved ritualistic daggers were used for, they were used to permanently erase problems from the face of Rubi-Ka. Dule took one more look at the scene in that room; the man's mangled corpse lying on the ground, the woman's lifeless body on the bed, blood everywhere. Dule doubled over and vomited in a nearby garbage can. As he rose to his feet Dule scooped up his shotgun and stumbled out of the apartment, out into the night blanketed streets of West Athen.

Dule had tossed the dagger in a nearby storm drain and wandered to the grid terminal, still suffering from the effects of vertigo. Once encoded into the grid Dule made his way to Borealis and the safety of his apartment. Dule took a shower, trying to wash away what had just happened in the apartment, but it didn't help. As he was stepping out of the shower into his living room a message came through on his com unit, "Status report?" The message had been sent from Mr. Black. Dule picked up his com and uttered the words Bayala had wanted to hear, "It's done."

Dule sat down in his living room, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and thought about what his life had become. He had perma-killed a Clan member tonight, a Clan president. Leaning forward, Dule rested his head in his hands and thought, then he looked to his glass of whiskey which he picked up in his right hand, "Ashes to ashes...dust to dust..." Dule muttered to himself...

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

Once again, the image of the shadowy Atrox wielding the gigantic red sword haunted Dule, but this time it all took place in a long alleyway, the city was unknown to Dule but he thought it could have been West Athen. The same scene played out, the demon speed of the Atrox, Dule not being able to move, then the brutal vertical slash that awoke Dule from his nightmare.

Dule sat in his bed, sweat pouring off his forehead. Dule would not go back to sleep even though it was close to 4 am, his dreams would not allow him to, as if they wanted him to do something that very instant. Dule began making himself some coffee as he thought about the dream that had been haunting him for so long. What did the Atrox signify? Why was the Atrox ever present while the surroundings changed? Why couldn't Dule make out any kind of armor or clothes or facial features? There was no use thinking about it, Dule finally decided, dreams were dreams, nothing more.

After several cups of coffee, a shower, three shots of whiskey, and a through cleaning of the old Ithaca shotgun, Dule was about to report to Bayala's apartment for a clan meeting when a message came through on his com from someone he hadn't heard from in years. "Howdy, old friend. Looks like you've been gettin into some trouble with your new Dust Brigade buddies."

Dule gave a small smirk, "Damn good to hear your voice again, friend. I'd thought for sure they'd have you locked up for good by now."

The small Opifex man's mouth turned into a broad smile on Dule's com unit, "Haha! You should know better then anyone that I can't be killed or caught!" The Opifex's face slowly turned more grave, "Listen Dule, the word's out on that honey in West Athen...and guess who the finger's pointing at."

Dule frowned, "Don't tell me...my new buddies?"

"You got it, old buddy. And from the sounds of it, Omni-Pol's trying real hard to get authorization to storm Borealis and take out the entire Clan. Problem is all that ICC bullsh*t, although that sounds like it's a good thing for you."

Dule thought on this, it didn't make sense, why would Omni-Pol be pushing this hard over a dead Clanner, something wasn't right. It could just be a reason to take on the Dust Brigade, but there had to be something else that wasn't being said to the general public. Dule flicked on the television; sure enough, a headline story was on about the perma-death of a Clan president in her apartment, suspect unknown. The name of the Dust Brigade popped up but that wasn't all that rare anymore, anytime something bad happened on Rubi-Ka these days the finger usually got pointed at the Dust Brigade.

Dule turned back to his com unit, "Listen to me carefully, I'm going to tell you a location and I want you to meet me there in ten minutes, got it?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

Eleven minutes later, outside Bayala's apartment in Borealis, Bayala, Dule, and a few of Bayala's top lieutenants spoke to a single Opifex male. Dule stood off near the sidelines, listening intently to the conversation that mostly involved Bayala and the Opifex. This has been where Dule had remained since the woman's murder, off on the sidelines, not getting too involved with the events taking place in the clan, for his own reasons.

"According to every resource I have read about you and Dule's own recomendations from past experience, you seem to be very trustworthy." Bayala had a smile on her face; Dule had the very slightest look of disgust on his as he looked out of the corner of his eye at her.

"Well that's true, I consider myself very trustworthy, ma'am." The Opifex gave a smile that made Bayala chuckle a tiny bit, but she was back to her hardened self soon enough.

"Then I would like to welcome you to our ranks, Convoked. Of course I will have my lieutenants keep an eye on you until I am throughly convinced of your loyalty." Bayala slapped Convoked on the back. "I will take my leave now. Dule, walk me to town, I have something I wish to discuss with you." Bayala gave Dule a hard look and walked to the exit to wait for him.

As the two exited the apartment courtyard, Bayala stopped near a set of mission terminals and lowered her voice to almost a whisper. "I have noticed that ever since that mission you haven't been yourself, is everything well?"

Dule stared ahead, past Bayala. "Perfect, ma'am, nothing wrong at all..."

"I realize that Omni-Pol has caught wind of this incident and is looking for any reason to end our existence on this planet." Bayala frowned deeply. "They are not the only ones either, word has it that the Council of Truth has been speaking about our actions as well, debating what to do with us." Bayala spat on the gorund in disgust. "As if they had a choice as to what they could do with us. Those bastards sit in their building and play politics while innocent citizens pay for their lack of action. I realize that you think of us as terrorists or some other such nonsense Dule, but you need to realize that you are part of us now, you are the one that killed that woman." Bayala stared into Dule's eyes; Dule saw blackness.

"Listen to me, Bayala. I do what is asked of me in this clan, and I do it well. Never have I questioned the motives of this clan nor will I ever. I hate the Council just as much as you do and I would see them destroyed if possible, but that is not the case at this point, Omni-Tek is a threat that should be dealt with first." Dule continued staring into the dark pools that were Bayala's eyes.

"I gotta hand it to you, Dule, you got spirit and I admire that. You also are reckless, look at you." Bayala pointed at Dule as she looked him up and down. "I'll bet you would be willing to charge into Omni-HQ right now and try to take out Ross yourself, not that you'd even reach him before being shot full of holes." Bayala looked around at her surroundings, obviously frustrated with Dule. "I've decided that it's for the best if you disappear for awhile, go underground. I've arranged things with an associate of mine to take you to a safehouse in Greater Omni Forest. This is a precaution in case someone in the Clans or at Omni-Tek has identified you, I don't know how long you'll be out there but you just need to disappear until all of this blows over." Bayala looked into Dule's eyes again, showing slightly more compassion then before. "I'm sorry Dule but it's for the best. Go to your apartment and gather your necessary items, I will send one of my lieutenants for you shortly." With that Bayala gave a nod to Dule and continued on into the heart of Borealis.

Dule stood there for a minute, pondering what had just happened. Maybe it was for the best if he went underground for awhile, Convoked had said that he heard fingers were being pointed towards the Dust Brigade already, it could only be a matter of time before fingers started getting pointed at him. Dule thought some more on the situation he found himself in as he walked back to his apartment to pack up his gear, wondering especially why Bayala had questioned his loyalty before sending him off into hiding.

It was nearly an hour before one of Bayala's lieutenants arrived at Dule's door. This lieutenant was one Dule had seen a number of times but didn't know personally, a strong looking Solitus soldier carrying a flamethrower, a weapon Dule had not seen very much during his time on Rubi-Ka. Dule took his armor, shotgun and duffle bag filled with hygiene products, clothes and lots and lots of whiskey, then followed the man outside.

A transport vehicle was waiting for Dule outside his apartment, it looked like a variation on the Kodiak ground vehicle but it was larger, suitable for two riders. Dule climbed into the passenger seat as the Solitus soldier climbed in the driver's seat. Dule was surprised as the vehicle was encoded into the grid, something Dule didn't think was possible. The vehicle made its way to the Omni-Entertainment exit and then headed out the gates into Omni Forest, beginning on the long trek to the unknown outpost in Greater Omni Forest. Dule had no idea where he was being taken but he also had no choice but to obey the wishes of Bayala, after all, Dule himself had carried out what happens to those who go against the Dust Brigade.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

Dule remembered when Bayala's lieutenant and himself exited the grid terminal in Omni-Entertainment, his heart had dropped and a feeling of uneasiness had come over him. Dule wasn't sure what was going on, then Bayala's lieutenant had told him to relax. Apparently, there was some kind of stealth device that had been installed on the vehicle making it impossible for any scanner to read the identities of the vehicle's drivers, it would simply spit out two random Omni-Tek personnel names to the scanner when scanned. Dule's uneasy feeling left him as they had passed through the gates to Omni Forest without so much as a second look from the guards. Once Dule thought about it, it made sense to hide out in Greater Omni Forest; Omni-Tek definitely wouldn't expect a Dust Brigade fugitive to be hiding out there, and the Clans wouldn't give it a second thought as a possible hiding spot either.

Now it had been one month since Dule arrived at the rundown cabin that would serve as his home for god knows how long and he was starting to develop a case of cabin fever. Bayala's associate would arrive with supplies every two weeks and barely say a word to Dule at each visit, simply dropping off the supplies and asking if Dule had needed anything else. Dule would occasionally request more whiskey or for her to stay the night with him, but Bayala's associate proved to be a down to business type Opifex and would only acknowledge his requests with a yes and no, in that order.

Dule had a television and his com unit so that he could keep up on the recent events on Rubi-Ka, although Bayala had made it clear that Dule was to only speak to Dust Brigade members on his com unit and only in emergency situations. Dule had heard alot more on the murder of the Clan woman in West Athen, and the name of the Dust Brigade continued to be plastered over the whole thing, but not once was a single suspect ever named. More interesting to Dule, however, was the new story that had begun to show up on the news feed, something about a portal being studied by scientists, a portal to a place they called Jobe. From the sounds of it however, it would be at least three more months before this portal was opened to the public because of research that was still being carried out by both Omni-Tek and Clan scientists.

"Just another thing to struggle for power over..." Dule had begun talking to himself more and more since he had been moved into the cabin. "I wonder what exactly is waiting on the other side of that portal that those scientists don't know about yet."

Every once in awhile Dule would go on short hunting trips around his cabin, simply killing wildlife to keep honed on his marksmanship and nanotechnology skill. In some ways, the short hunting trips gave Dule a sense of accomplishment, something he hadn't felt since moving out into the wilderness of Greater Omni Forest. Dule had become even deadlier in his marksmanship abilities; sometimes, he would sneak up on a nearby mutant encampment and try to pick off a few of the mutants from as far as two hundred yards away and then sneak off without the other mutants knowing where he was. Dule had mastered the use of his Ithaca shotgun, almost able to use it as a rifle without a scope, but Dule was anxious for real combat, simply killing off mutants and wildlife wouldn't cut it for much longer.

Many nights, Dule would sit in his cabin and drink whiskey, thinking about the events that had led up to him sitting on a small cot in the middle of Greater Omni Forest. Even in the woods, Dule would relive the horrible events of 2Ho and the woman's murder, and ever present was the demonic Atrox in his dreams. Dule hoped every day that he would be able to return to civilization, but little did he know it would be six months before he was allowed to return to his normal life in his apartment in Borealis, and by that time many things would have changed on Rubi-Ka, things that Dule never could have foreseen.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

Six months had passed since Dule had first heard about the portal to Jobe. During that six months Dule had heard plenty more on the city of Jobe and the place they were calling the Shadowlands. Most of what Dule heard sickened him, stories of adventurers being sent out into the Shadowlands only to be found at reclaim several days later, rocking back and forth on the ground and muttering gibberish. Dule heard things that angered him from Omni-Tek...but he grew more and more angry with the Clans after every passing day; stories of the Council of Truth sending adventurers into the Shadowlands in order to get a foothold in the strange lands before Omni-Tek could, no matter how many lives were sacrificed in the process. The Clans had grown greedy in more ways on Rubi-Ka as well; Dule observed aftermath videos of Omni-Tek and even neutral outposts smoldering and littered with the bodies of citizens with no military connection whatsoever.

Dule's political views had definitely changed since his time in the Dust Brigade; his views of the Dust Brigade and the Clans themselves had both been tarnished in more ways then one. The strange part was that Dule began wondering what his life would have been like if he would have signed up with Omni-Tek instead of the Clans so many years ago when he first arrived on Rubi-Ka.

It was nearly midnight when Bayala's associate entered Dule's cabin; she seemed to be in a hurry. "Dule, Bayala requests your presence at once."

Dule rose to his feet from the crude chair he had been sitting in, he set the bottle of whiskey on a nearby table, "Does this mean I'm coming back?"

The Opifex woman looked at him and let a large smile spread across her delicate features, "Yes! I have a vehicle ready, all you need to do is pack and we can be off."

Dule wasted no time throwing all of his belongings into a duffle bag, scooping up his shotgun, giving the Opifex woman a sudden kiss on the lips, and heading out the door. Bayala's associate stared after him as he left the cabin then followed him outside, trying to hide a smile.

The Opifex woman and the Dust Brigade trooper drove all night until they reached the gates of Omni-Entertainment. Even though Dule knew about the stealth device that was protecting their identities, he still became uneasy as they made their way through the city to the grid terminal, it wasn't until they were safely encoded into the grid that the feeling left him. Once the vehicle had stopped outside Bayala's apartment, the Opifex woman turned to Dule, "I'll drop you off here, Bayala is expecting you inside."

"Aw, you're not coming in?" Dule gave the woman a wink as he got out of the vehicle.

The Opifex woman blushed a little bit as the door closed and she drove off into the city itself. Dule knocked on the door of Bayala's apartment and was surprised when it opened almost instantly. Inside, Bayala had her gun torn apart on a table and seemed to be cleaning it's many parts. "Have a seat." She said to Dule, not even looking up from her work.

Dule took a seat opposite of Bayala at the table and remained silent until she spoke again. After roughly five minutes of silence, Bayala looked up from her gun to Dule. "So...how does it feel to be back in the city?"

Dule didn't bother hiding the broad smile on his face. "Feels damn good. Although, I'll miss my visits from your lovely associate." Dule grinned even bigger.

Bayala didn't show the slightest amount of amusement. "You liked her, huh? That's good. The reason I brought you back into the world of the living is because the case with that dead bitch in West Athen is old news. The new news, for us anyway, is the state of this clan." Bayala stared into Dule's eyes, trying to bore a hole right through him. "There has been talk from others that my methods are too sloppy, unprofessional." Bayala shifted her head to one side, still penetrating Dule with her cold gaze. "What are your feelings on this situation?"

Dule seemed confused. "You mean there has been talk of a coup?"

Bayala nodded, taking a drink from the glass of vodka that sat close to her on the table. "Exactly, but it won't come to that." She leveled her gaze at Dule once again, this time Dule sensed the slightest amount of helplessness in her eyes. "I have decided to disband the clan, although I know for a fact that the individuals who are already against me will want control of it for themselves." A deep sigh escaped Bayala. "I have a few friends in the clan Fatal Exception, they have offered me a position with them and I told them I'd have to think about it, but I know what my answer will be." Bayala looked away from Dule, back to her disassembled weapon. "This clan has been my life for so long Dule, I have poured my soul into it and what it stands for. I can feel it changing though; no longer do I want to destroy the lives of the people I have come to love, the Clans are full of good people and I want to defend them, not destroy them." Dule thought he saw a tear in Bayala's eye, but she turned away too fast for him to be sure.

Dule thought on what had just been said for a good while before speaking up. "Why wage war on the Clans in the first place?"

Bayala shook her head. "You don't understand. We weren't waging war on the Clans, we were waging war on the Council of Truth and Henry Radiman, curse his name." Dule understood more then Bayala could ever know. "Anyway, the reason I'm telling you this is because I have seen your disapproval of my methods, yet, I still believe I can trust you, am I wrong in that asumption?"

Dule shook his head. "I won't tell anyone about this conversation, Bayala. Tell me one thing though, what makes you think these people who are against you so much wouldn't try to perma-kill you once you left the clan?"

"I know they'll try, but I have faith in my friends in Fatal Exception, and I have faith in this..." Bayala patted her unassembled machine gun. "Let them try to kill me I say, they'll learn why I have so many notches on this gun." Bayala let a big smile spread across her face. "Alright Dule, I'm glad we've had this talk but I'm going to have to ask you to leave, I'm expecting a friend anytime now."

Dule rose to his feet and gave Bayala a nod. "I'm glad we've had this talk too." As Dule left Bayala's apartment many things were going through his mind, mainly the identities of the renegade Dust Brigade members who were so against Bayala's methods. Granted, Dule himself didn't agree that much with Bayala's methods either, but this sounded like something more.

As Dule walked down the dark streets of Borealis city, duffle bag in one hand, shotgun in the other, questions arose about Dule's own loyalty. Dule had been questioning the Clans for awhile now, it just seemed like the Council of Truth or someone else behind the scenes had a hidden agenda. Dule passed the Fair Trade shop and swore he saw someone in the shadows of a building but quickly dismissed it as a late night wanderer like himself or a figment of his imagination. As Dule moved past a building on the way to his apartment a message came through on his com unit. "Dule, it's Convoked, I need to speak with you now, it's urgent." Dule frowned a bit, then swung around as he heard footsteps running away from him. Dule looked around the corner of the building he was standing near and saw the figure of an Atrox disappear into the night, an Atrox that seemed strangely familiar to Dule.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

Sweat poured openly down the face of Dule as he briskly walked through Borealis city, towards the grid terminal and his meeting with Convoked. Who was it? Why did that Atrox seem so damn familiar? And why the hell was it eavesdropping on Dule?

Dule reached the grid terminal and began the cell encoding process. Convoked had sent coordinates to Dule shortly after the Atrox had disappeared into the night; it was an old outpost that was all but abandoned near the wastelands of Mort, an outpost called Meetmedere. Dule finally found himself encoded into the grid network and began making his way to the Meetmedere exit when a message came through on his com unit; "You move forward blindly, unwilling to open your eyes and see what your world has become, fool." There was no name associated with the message, only a scattered, static filled image and several random symbols.

Dule stopped moving and took in what had just been said to him. "Who the hell is this?"

Dule's com sputtered static for a moment, then spat out another anonymous message from the same sender; "My identity will be made clear to you soon, Max Kenley, but what is important now is the Dust Brigade as well as something more..."

Dule waited a moment, then replied alittle irritated. "Which is?"

The voice took longer to reply this time, letting time pass by slowly and the uneasy feeling that had materialized in Dule's stomach grow. "Your dreams...I know about your dreams. They will make sense soon enough...let us leave it at that."

Dule replied quickly. "What the hell are you talking about? How do you know about my dreams!?" But the voice was gone and a simple "User Disconnected" message is all that showed itself to Dule.

Dule dismissed the cryptic conversation for now and continued on through the Meetmedere exit. As he materialized in the countryside surrounding the ruined outpost a message from Convoked came through; "It's about goddamn time, Dule. I'm in the outpost near it's center, I can see you on my scanner from here, hurry up."

Dule jogged briskly across the open field to the outpost itself and found Convoked crouching near a ruined building, his SMG at the ready. As Dule approached, Convoked motioned for him to crouch next to him. "Get the hell over here and put that duffle bag down!" Convoked's voice was lowered but full of urgency.

Dule ran over to Convoked and crouched next to him, dropping his duffle bag and bringing his shotgun up to a ready position. "What the hell is all this about?" Dule was looking at Convoked the whole time but Convoked kept scanning the area, worried, paranoid, frightened. "I guess I got myself into alittle trouble, Dule. I was hacking around in some of Omni-Trans' files when I came across something interesting to say the least." Convoked turned to Dule, still alert and wide-eyed. "I found files detailing shipments made to an unnamed party, this kind of thing happens all the time but there was something else." Convoked quickly turned his head to the direction of a small noise in the distance.

Dule continued staring at Convoked. "Hey! What was different about this shipment?"

Convoked turned back to Dule. "Well lets just say it wasn't a shipment of e-beamers or flak jackets. Either the guy that wrote out the shipping ticket was a real amature or someone messed up real bad because I think this transaction was supposed to be off the books." Convoked lowered his SMG and stared at Dule, boring a hole right through him. "It was explosives, Dule. And they weren't f**king around either, this stuff had more kick to it then the stuff the Dust Brigade used on that apartment building in Omni-1. But here's what got me thinking; Omni-Tek already has the resources for this stuff and it was being shipped out of Omni-1. If they were shipping to Omni-AF or Omni-Pol they would have just said so, but this stuff was being shipped to an address in Borealis and to an unnamed buyer so...I decided to check it out."

"You thought it was going to a neutral or Clan buyer?" Dule had lowered his shotgun as well, oblivious to his surroundings at the moment.

"Exactly. Turns out I was right too. I got to the warehouse and saw the explosives, but I had to off a few Omni-Trans guys first. Well, I was on my way out when I ran into a familiar face...Mr. Black. The son of a bitch recognized me too, and he started trying to fill me with holes from his assault rifle but I was too quick, I hauled ass out of there as fast as I could." Convoked's voice was shaky and even though he was trying to hide it, fear oozed from every word he uttered. "Ever since then there has been an Agent after my ass. I'm sure it's from the Dust Brigade but I can't prove it. I don't think he tracked me out here but I can't be sure."

Dule was completely lost in his thoughts after hearing Convoked's story. Mr. Black is obviously one of the members against Bayala's leadership, and those members had to be planning something big with that much firepower stockpiled, but what could their target be. Dule tried to forget about it and focus on the problem at hand. "You think you gave him the slip, huh?"

Convoked shook his head slowly. "I'm fast, Dule, but this guy is good, I don't know how I'm still alive right now, I'm sure he could have killed me at any time since the warehouse."

Dule brought his shotgun back up to its ready position. "You're right, he could have. But he didn't want to...he wanted to kill two birds with one stone. He's out there right now, waiting. Convoked, I want you to check your gear, calm down, and run your nano programs on me."

Convoked looked from the treeline in the distance to Dule. "Why?"

Dule let a smirk spread slowly across his lips. "Because we're going hunting."

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

The wind whistled through the tall grass and solitary trees surrounding the runned down outpost of Meetmedere. Dust was lifted lightly from the barren ground between the treeline and the outpost itself as it danced in the wind and then fell back to the ground silently. The sun shined down upon the scene as a single glint could be seen from within the trees, the glint of glass from a sniper's scope. Situated on the outskirts of the trees, a single opifex male lay silently peering through the high powered scope mounted on his caterwaul sniper rifle, hidden by the many shrubs, tall grass, and surrounding trees. The man's hands were being steadied by nanobots, he breathed slowly and deeply, completely relaxed and calm.

Within the outpost itself two figures crouched near each other, manipulating nanobots and checking their equipment. "There, that's the last one." Convoked said as he finished running a nanoprogram. "I'm good to go."

Dule nodded as he rose to his feet, bringing his Ithaca to rest on his shoulder. Convoked's nanoprograms were doing their job; Dule felt lighter, faster, and he could feel the tiny nanobots constantly repairing any damaged tissue within his body. "It's time; that sniper's out there in that treeline somewhere, it's simply a matter of making him give away his position." Dule had a far away look in his eyes as he stared out across the barren land that surrounded the outpost.

Convoked was the faster of the two, and Dule was the better shot, so it was easy to decide which of them would draw the agent's attention while the other closed in and eliminated him. The only unknown in the problem was whether the agent was using perma-death rounds or not; it was not known to either of them how much these renegade Dust Brigade members wanted them dead. "Move into position." Dule muttered as he passed Convoked, moving to the far side of the outpost, waiting out of sight near a high concrete wall.

The plan that they had discussed had been a simple one, but it was one that should work. There was one thought in the back of Convoked's mind as he made his way to the front gate of the outpost however; he wondered if he was really faster then the agent was. As he reached the front gate he took one final look over to where Dule was scanning the treeline in the distance through his vision enhancer, then he pulled on his helmet, brought his SMG up to its ready position, and took off like a flash out the front gate of the ruined outpost.

Dule had seen Convoked leave the front gate out of the corner of his eye, but his attention was focused on the distant treeline; he was looking for movement, rustling, a muzzle flash, anything. As Convoked moved further out from the outpost and crossed towards the lone building to the north of the outpost, Dule saw what he was looking for. There, under a large tree and surrounded by tall grass, Dule saw the single opifex man shift on his stomach to point the barrel of the large caterwaul towards the fleeing Convoked. "Got you, son of a bitch." Dule whispered as he took aim and squeezed off a round at the agent.

As the Ithaca let out its loud, dull report, Dule could see that the shot had been off; he moved quickly, charging forward towards the treeline, moving as fast as Convoked's nanoprograms would allow him to.

The agent seemed surprised as Dule's shot ripped through the tree trunk next to him, and it must have worried him because he fired off a rushed shot in Convoked's general direction. The shot pierced through the lone building at the point Convoked had been mere moments before that. Before the caterwaul had even settled from the shot, the agent was on his feet moving to a new position.

Dule reached the treeline about the same time the agent had risen from his hidden position and he could see him making for a raised hill in the distance. Dule weaved between the trees as he tried to close more distance between the fleeing agent and himself, but once he was through the trees the agent was almost to the hill so Dule dropped to a knee and took aim at the opifex's back, taking as much time as he could afford, Dule gently squeezed the trigger of the old Ithaca.

The agent could see the top of the hill now; he knew that he could easily lose his pursuer in the much denser forest ahead, and it was about the time that this thought was going through his head that he heard a shot from behind him. The agent fell face first into the side of the hill as the slug from the Ithaca tore through his right knee, leaving him helpless, writhing in pain on the side of the hill in a growing pool of blood.

As Dule approached the downed agent he noticed that the caterwaul had slid out of his reach. Dule crouched over the bleeding agent, placing his knee on the agent's chest and the barrel of his Ithaca under the agent's chin. "You're Dust Brigade, aren't you?" Dule stared straight into the agent's eyes, not blinking once.

The agent made several pain filled grunts before answering. "You know that I am, Dule..." The answer was quick and full of pain. "This was inevitable, you should have seen it coming!"

Dule applied more force to the agent's chest and forced his head back with the Ithaca at the same time. "But why!? I was loyal to this clan, Convoked was loyal to this clan! Why are you dealing with Omni-Tek, what's being planned!?"

The agent seemed to laugh amidst his groans of pain. "It's not important now, I won't say anything more..." The agent stared back at Dule then spit blood on his face. "Do what you must."

Dule stood up, ignoring the blood on his face. He looked off into the distance for a moment before shaking his head and looking back to the agent. "You're right, at this point it makes no difference." Dule turned and began to walk away, then after about ten steps he turned back to the agent and rose his shotgun. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Dule fired a shot to the agent's chest, killing him instantly.

Convoked was waiting near the grid terminal when Dule walked up, scooping up his duffle bag as he approached. "Let's get the hell out of here, things just got a lot more complicated." Dule didn't even look at Convoked as he brushed past him and began encoding himself into the grid.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

It was late. Darkness shrouded the city of Borealis as only the faint glow of the street lights could be seen. Inside a tiny, cramped apartment sat a lone figure, and in front of that figure sat a half drank bottle of whiskey and a glass. No music was playing, no tv was on, all that could be heard was the gentle whine of the air conditioning unit and the heavy breaths coming from the man. Dule had begun drinking more then usual after the incident at Meetmedere; going through three or four bottles a day wasn't uncommon any more for him. Dule hadn't spoken with anyone either, not even Convoked who had been trying to get through to him on his com every day. Dule had completely cut himself off from the outside world, becoming lost in his thoughts and whiskey.

The main thought that had been repeating itself in Dule's mind was simply, "If not the Clans, then what?" He knew that it wasn't safe for him in the Clans anymore, not with the power that the Dust Brigade wielded and their obvious desire to exterminate him. A disturbing thought had also been making itself known to Dule as of late, no one in Omni-Tek knew his association with the Dust Brigade or his reputation. With Convoked's connections, it would be possible to lose himself in the corporation and start over. The only problem with this plan was that Dule still had hatred for Omni-Tek, nothing could change that. Dule also realized that he needed to get his priorities straight, and if he some how got into Omni-Tek then he could start over and have a clean slate. Flashes of the Council of Truth and Henry Radiman showed themselves to Dule as well, bringing feelings of anger and hatred boiling to the surface. Dule poured himself yet another glass of whiskey, now knowing what must be done.

It was the next day when Dule contacted Convoked, intent on getting his help in the matter. "Dule! You know, it's about goddamn time you got ahold of me, I've been trying to get through to you for the past week, what the hell happened?" Convoked seemed anxious as always.

"I've been thinking things over alot, about what I need to do about the situation we're in. I've got a solution but it requires some help from those contacts of yours." Dule spoke with a grave tone.

"Of course, they owe me more then I can remember. What's the plan?"

Dule stared at Convoked's image on the com screen. "We're getting inserted into Omni-Tek."

Convoked seemed shocked at first but quickly regained his composure. "Inserted? Like changing sides?"

Dule shook his head. "We can't just use an application, too many people know us and we would get taken out before the ink was dry on the paper. We need to have one of your contacts get us in and alter our records, make it seem like we're brand new employees to the corporation."

Convoked thought on this for a long time before replying. "Alright. I'll see what I can come up with. It may take awhile to set something up so you should stay out of sight until I contact you. You do realize that once this is done then there would be no coming back right?"

Dule nodded slowly. "It's what needs to be done, Convoked."

"What about the Dust Brigade?" Convoked seemed to hesitate before asking the question.

Dule replied quickly. "What about them? The clan clearly isn't under Bayala's leadership anymore, they've gone rogue. They're planning something with those explosives and I have a feeling it's got more to do with the Clans then Omni-Tek, but it's none of our concern at the moment."

"I guess you're right..." Convoked sounded uncertain. "Just stay out of sight, I'll contact you in a few days when the sh*t is set up, alright?"

Dule nodded. "Try to make it quick, I'm not sure what our window of opportunity is going to be." With that Dule clicked off his com unit and stared at the bottle of whiskey sitting in front of him. "It's what needs to be done...It is..."

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

There was little that Convoked or Dule had to do during the entire process in which Convoked's unnamed associate altered their records and erased any evidence of them even existing on Rubi-Ka. Apparantly Convoked's associate was a very capable hacker, in fact he was so capable that he was able to break the encryption on the ICC databases that house every civilian's personal record; this information was all that Dule was made aware of, he didn't know this associate's affiliation or why he owed Convoked such a massive favor, but he didn't care.

The process was completed after a mere week. Dule and Convoked found themselves standing in the main ICC shuttleport that processed incoming citizens seeking to find a better life on Rubi-Ka. Dule stood in the main entrance cooridor and watched the hundreds of people moving past him on every side, the look of hope and better things to come placated on their face, Dule gritted his teeth as he thought about what awaited them on the main planet; war, strife, betrayal and sorrow. Dule let this thought escape him as Convoked nudged him and continued on to the Omni-Tek recruiter and whompa. The recruiter was more then pleased to hand them each an application for employment with Omni-Tek, though Dule thought he saw a glint of doubt in the recruiter's eye as he examined them. Convoked hastily filled out his application, scribbling in Fixer where it asked for his occupation. Dule looked the application over carefully, thinking on many things as he did so, as if he still had a choice in the matter at this point. Dule came to the occupation question on the application, after a slight pause he carefully wrote Soldier. The recruiter accepted the applications and stamped them as "approved" without a second glance, he then explained that the whompa behind him led to one of the apartment complexes in Rome. With a slight nod, Dule and Convoked passed through the whompa and appeared in a small courtyard next to a gigantic apartment building that seemed to rise up into the dark clouds forever. The two new recruits turned towards the exit into the main city and glanced up at a large neon billboard near the exit, it read, "Omni-Tek protects."

"So it begins..." Dule sighed.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

The thoughts washed over Dule like a bottomless bucket of ice water being dumped over him, they would allow him no sleep tonight either. Dule sat up in his bed and stared at nothing in particular before rising to his feet and moving over to the bar counter that stood near the floor to ceiling window in the living room of his high rise apartment. Omni-AF had moved him into the luxurious penthouse apartment in Omni-1 after he was promoted to Lieutenant in record time, a mere six months. Dule poured himself a glass of whiskey and walked over to the window, peering out at the darkened sky lined with skyscrapers as far as the eye could see, he couldn't believe it's been eight months since Convoked and himself defected to Omni-Tek, it seemed like only last week that he was receiving his assault rifle and beginning the Omni-AF training course.

After their initial arrival in Rome, Convoked had been contacted by a group of individuals who made themselves known only to him, Convoked had refused to tell Dule their identities and stated that it was for the best and that when the time was right then he would be made aware of them. Convoked then began training and living with this group and the only contact Dule had with him after that point was a few com conversations every once in awhile, he still hadn't seen Convoked in person since that day he left to train with the mysterious group.

Dule had been assigned to Omni-AF for training. After Convoked had departed, Dule reported to the Omni-AF barracks for his assignment. Dule was issued a suit of white Omni-Pol armor and an old Nova Flow assault rifle before being assigned to a training platoon. The training was rigorous but it went on without incident or cause for mention, and before long Dule was even more skilled with an assault rifle then he was packing a shotgun in his days as a Dust Brigade trooper. After successful completion of his training, Dule was assigned to Omni-Trans where he mostly ran security for transports and large transactions. After two months of being assigned to Omni-Trans, Dule managed to impress his superiors by killing three Clan agents who had been hired to hijack one of the shipments of notum that Dule had been guarding and it was after this that Dule was awarded the rank of Sergeant. After picking up Sergeant, Dule was assigned back to an Omni-AF unit where he displayed not only excellent leadership skills but also a deadly knowledge of the assault rifle and its use on the battlefield; it wasn't long before he was promoted to Lieutenant. Life changed for Dule after making Lieutenant, not only was he moved into a much larger and more luxurious apartment, but he was also given the responsibility of a unit to command in battle. Dule had hand picked the soldiers that made up his unit but there were still a few empty spots to fill, this didn't bother Dule however because of how they already excelled at carrying out their missions, shorthanded as they were.

Dule had also traded in his old Nova Flow in exchange for a sleeker, deadlier and more potent assault rifle, the perennium assault rifle. The perennium assault rifle had a much more compact design then the Nova Flow, had a faster rate of fire and possessed full auto capabilities should the mood strike. The strange material that was used to craft these rifles came from the place known as the Shadowlands, a place that Dule himself had never had any intention of going, but nonetheless the strange blue metal known as perennium was fast becoming one of the most precious materials in trade on Rubi-Ka.

Dule downed what was left of the whiskey in his glass and turned away from the window, finished reflecting on what has passed. Dule hadn't heard anything lately regarding the Dust Brigade and this troubled him, he often found himself wondering about Bayala and what had occurred with the clan after him and Convoked had joined with Omni-Tek. Dule shook his head and walked into his bedroom, intent on getting at least two hours of sleep. As he lay down he thought to himself, "What does it matter what happened with them? After all, they probably want me dead now anyway." With that he drifted off into what promised to be yet another troubled sleep.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

The ICC shuttle port bustled with movement. Refugees, entrepreneurs, middle class citizens and ICC personnel all moved about with a purpose, each seeking to accomplish their own goals, whether it was to board a whompa to Rubi-Ka or ensure the security of the shuttle port itself. The recruiters stood at their desks lazily scanning the crowd of possible recruits and finishing up last minute paper work as a whompa to their respective territories hummed close behind them. The ICC guards stationed on the shuttle port stood rigid at their posts, barely moving as they held their Krutt assault shotguns securely at their sides. To any normal person the scene would have represented a vision in security and safety.

Amidst all the movement in the shuttle port, one figure could be seen standing near the entryway draped in a black cloak. The figure was an Atrox, although he stood taller and more massive then any normal Atrox should be. His head was bald and a strange tattoo crept its way around his right eye and down his cheek, disappearing into the cloak. Many scars could be seen riddled across his face and head, although the most distinguished one jutted down from his forehead and across his left eye, causing that eye to have a type of constant squint. Although the cloak hid most of his body, the hilt of a sword could be seen sticking out from the top of the cloak. The ornately carved hilt seemed to be made from a black volcanic stone that had a dull shimmer to it whenever the Atrox moved; the rest of the sword was covered completely by the cloak.

It was as the Atrox began to move into the main shuttle port area that he was noticed by the ICC guards standing their post near the entranceway. In unison, the two guards approached the Atrox and stood blocking his path to the main shuttle port, “You’ll need to secure that weapon with us before continuing on. It is against ICC policy for citizens to possess weapons in the shuttle port.” The ICC sergeant leveled his gaze at the hilt of the strange weapon as he spoke.

Speaking in a lowered, deep voice the Atrox replied, “You wish me to disarm myself and surrender my weapon…to you?”

The sergeant tightened his grip on his shotgun, “That is correct. It is against policy to continue past this point with your weapon. Either surrender it or turn around and leave the way you came in.”

The Atrox smirked slightly, “I have pressing business on Rubi-Ka and I will continue on, but I surrender my sword to no man.”

The sergeant gripped his shotgun with both hands as he took a slight step backwards, “I’m going to have to ask you to come with us, now.”

The Atrox let the smirk widen as he eyed both of the guards then said in a grave tone, “I hope for your sake, you’re faster than you look.”

Just as the sergeant was about to question this strange statement, the Atrox flung back his cloak and drew his massive sword in one inhumanly fast motion. With a savage horizontal slash, the Atrox severed the sergeant’s head from his body. Before the severed head of the ICC sergeant even fell to the ground, the Atrox had plunged his blade through the second officer’s chest. Kicking the officer’s lifeless body, the Atrox retrieved his sword and took a step over the fallen guards and the rapidly growing pool of blood that surrounded them.

Pandemonium had ensued within the shuttle port after the brutal slaying of the guards; citizens were trampling each other to get out of the main shuttle port area, ICC personnel were making frantic com transmissions, and the recruiters stood at their desks, stunned by what had just happened. The Atrox calmly moved through the shuttle port, his large, red bladed sword swaying at his side as he moved to the center of the main receiving area. By this time, the rest of the ICC personnel who were stationed on the small shuttle port had armed themselves and made their way to the receiving area. The Atrox stopped when he saw the roughly twenty ICC guards armed with shotguns come rushing out of three different hallways; he brought the sword to his shoulder and smiled openly.

The guards began firing on the Atrox as soon as they saw him brandish the tremendous weapon, but none of their shots found their mark; the Atrox moved with an unnatural speed as he made for the nearest group of guards, weaving between their shots as if it was second nature to him. The first group of guards fell quickly as the Atrox cut into them with no remorse, letting bodies fall where they stood and sending some into nearby display terminals, tables and chairs. It didn’t take long for the Atrox to carve a swath through all of the ICC guards, leaving the small receiving area of the shuttle port bathed in blood and littered with bodies twisted in their last agonizing moments.

The Atrox stared at the whompas as he stood before them, sword in hand, and a wake of carnage at his back. As he moved past the Omni-Tek recruiter’s desk, completely focused on the whirring entrance of the Omni-1 Entertainment whompa, he failed to notice the recruiter who had finally gathered himself enough to dive under his desk. The recruiter had been relaying several com transmissions to Omni-Pol, describing the scene in the shuttle port and the powerful Atrox who carried the strange weapon.

It was because of the recruiter that when the Atrox emerged in Omni-1 Entertainment district he was greeted by a detachment of Omni-Pol troopers and two scourge-class slayer droids. As the troopers held their weapons on the Atrox, he realized that this was a battle even he could not hope to win; reluctantly he plunged his sword in the ground by his feet and stepped back, arms raised in a sign of surrender.

As the troopers moved in to capture the Atrox, the commander of the detachment whispered to one of his nearby sergeants, “Take this one to HQ, Omni-AF has expressed special interest in this matter…they wish to make a deal with him.” The sergeant nodded at this and moved forward to carry out his commander’s orders.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

“The prisoner’s armor will not come off, sir.” The guard said as the Omni-AF Commander entered one of the many holding cells in the Omni-HQ prison. “It’s like it’s being held on by roots or something.”

The Commander chuckled at the guard, “It is symbiotic armor, and it is secured by tendrils that are buried deep in the prisoner’s body.” The Commander moved the guard out of the way and stood in front of the prisoner, who was secured to the wall by energy restraints. “Although in all my years in the armed forces I have never seen symbiotic armor such as this.” The prisoner’s armor was a dull black color with spots of deep red being visible in certain areas; it seemed to shimmer faintly whenever the prisoner who wore it moved. “It doesn’t matter, the armor can stay on him, he won’t be in here much longer anyway.”

“Yes, sir.” The guard moved to the entrance of the cell to stand post as he said this.

The Commander looked directly into the prisoner’s eyes, attempting to bore a hole through him with his stern gaze, “Those guards all appeared at reclaim, but I’ll be damned if they aren’t a shell of their former selves. The shuttle port is a mess; blood, corpses, ICC property destroyed, you really dug a hole for yourself.” The Commander watched for any hint of doubt in the prisoner’s face, but all he got was the same blank look that had been present since he arrived. “The murders may not have been perma-deaths but those were ICC guards, and Omni-Pol has the option to permanently end your existence in this world, and it is an option that they are very seriously entertaining.” The Commander’s features softened slightly, “Although, we are prepared to offer an alternate deal.”

The prisoner’s eyes shifted and he let a small smirk creep across his lips, “Would my weapon be returned to me?”

The Commander chuckled deeply, “Ah yes, your strange looking sword. I could never understand the reasoning behind using a sword over a good rifle, just doesn’t make sense to me.”

The Atrox lowered his head slightly and whispered to the Commander, “You don’t get to see the look on your enemy’s face when they breathe their final breath with a rifle.”

The Commander nodded slowly, obviously disturbed by the Atrox, “You will receive your weapon if that is your wish, should you agree to our arrangement.” The Commander’s features took on a hardened appearance once again. “The arrangement is simple; in exchange for the charges against you dropped, you will agree to serve in one of our Omni-AF units until such a time as we feel your crimes have been atoned for or until your untimely demise, whichever happens to come first.”

The Atrox raised his head to meet the Commander’s gaze, “Doesn’t the ICC have the final say in this matter?”

The Commander laughed heartily, “Omni-Tek is the largest, most powerful corporation in the galaxy; we have complete and utter control over anything that takes place on this planet. Let the ICC think what they will, the truth of the matter is that we have the power here.”

The Atrox lowered his head slowly once again, “Fine. Then I accept this arrangement, now release me and return my weapon.”

“That will be taken care of in due time. You will spend the night here while the necessary arrangements are made, and tomorrow you shall be assigned to a unit.” The Commander turned to leave, seeing no more reason to speak with the prisoner, and then he paused at the cell door. “Ah yes, how could I forget; what name do you go by? I’m afraid there was no record for you in the ICC database.”

The Atrox didn’t move his eyes from where they were locked on the floor, “Rowley…is what you can call me.”

The Commander nodded then turned to the guard standing his post, “Lock down the cell.”

“Yes, sir!” The guard gave a quick salute as the Commander departed.

Once the Commander had gotten outside the prison, he stopped under a faintly glowing street light and made a call on his com, “I have acquired a new member for your unit. Tomorrow, have your men assembled for training exercises in front of Rome blue district in Galway shire.”

“Understood, it will be done.” The voice that answered the Commander’s transmission sounded the slightest bit doubtful.

The Commander flicked off his com and continued on to Omni-AF headquarters in order to take care of some last minute paper work that was required to secure the prisoner’s release and insertion into the chosen unit.

Dule wore a suit of black Omni-AF battle armor; an enhanced version of the popular Omni-Pol Elite armor worn by the majority of the men in his unit. His suit of armor was completed by a large piece of black Omni-AF tank armor which covered his chest and back, offering another layer of protection while also enhancing his reflexes by a significant amount. On Dule’s shoulders were two black shoulder pads, each with three menacing looking spikes jutting up from it; a gift from Omni-Tek to employees who prove themselves great assets to the company. Dule had been standing in his full battle armor for nearly an hour, running simple marching drills with his men, who were also fully armored as if going to battle. The sun beat down on them as they drilled, causing the temperature inside the suits of armor that the men wore to rise to sweltering heights. Dule had begun to grow impatient with his superior, who was already an hour late, when he noticed the Commander approaching with an Atrox following close behind him.

The Atrox wore a full suit of a strange type of symbiotic armor, he wore no helmet however. Dule noticed the strange blade that was sheathed on the Atrox’s back and he froze, completely in awe and disbelief.

“This is the new recruit I was telling you about; his name is Rowley and he should make a fine shock trooper for your unit. The conditions of his arrangement are strict but I won’t bore you with the details, just know that he is essentially our property and an investment has been made in your unit by us placing him in it.” The Commander examined Dule’s unit, who had come to a halt and were standing rigidly in formation by this time, as he spoke. “Well, if you don’t have any questions then I shall be on my way and leave our new investment for you to handle, Lieutenant.”

If Dule had not been wearing his helmet, the Commander would have seen the shocked look that was plastered on Dule’s face as he answered, “No, sir. No further questions on the matter.”

“Very well, as you were then.” The Commander turned and departed towards the Rome entrance.

Dule turned to Rowley, who stared back at him with a blank expression, “fall in with the rest of the unit.”

Rowley nodded and moved swiftly around to the back of the unit to fall into formation with the rest of Dule’s men.

As Rowley passed, Dule followed him with his eyes, a fearful look unable to leave his features. Dule silently thought to himself, “This Atrox, I have no doubt in my mind…That sword; he is the one who is always present in my nightmares.”

The unit marched on as Dule gave the order to move out; but he was unable to concentrate completely on the training, his thoughts had fought their way to the front of his mind, “Why? What does it mean?”

The answers would come soon enough, in one way or another.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

The darkness of the night hung heavy over the landscape of Lush Hills, cloaked by a densely clouded sky. The usually peaceful and serene landscape was gripped by a strange sense of tension and apprehension on this particular night however; the rolling hills gave way to a single campfire, surrounded by many tents, in one of the small, hidden valleys of the region. The light from the campfire danced across the dark battle armor of the men standing or crouching near the fire, creating strange shapes and shadows in the night. Standing on a tall hill nearby was a single man staring off into the distance through a pair of night vision goggles, his helmet resting at his feet and his rifle hanging from his right hand. The man wore a troubled look upon his face as he focused on the horizon, as if expecting something to come over it at any moment. The man raised the goggles from his eyes but continued to stare towards the horizon, thinking to himself, “This will test us. We have been successful so far, but this will be our toughest battle yet.”

Not long after Rowley had been assigned to Dule’s unit, the Commander had contacted Dule with new orders. The orders were considered confidential and were to take effect immediately. Dule’s unit was to engage in a campaign to reclaim a number of tower outposts that were Clan occupied and of strategic importance to Omni-Tek. The first few outposts fell quickly under the superior force of Dule and his soldiers but the Clans began reinforcing their outposts with greater numbers and greater firepower; because of this, Dule requested more men to be assigned to his unit, his request was granted. Not only was Dule’s detachment reinforced with more troopers, he was assigned an additional two specialists to be acting sergeants as well. The first specialist assigned to Dule was a tall, thin Opifex by the name of Ronek. Ronek was an Agent who had worked as a neutral mercenary for the majority of his time on Rubi-Ka; being hired by both warring sides for assassinations, intelligence gathering, terrorism and other such glamorous jobs was his way of life until he was offered a higher paying, more secure job with Omni-InternOps. Ronek carried a large Caterwaul sniper rifle and wore a strange suit of black armor that concentrated more on performance enhancement than protection. Ronek had been assigned by Dule to be the unit’s scout/sniper after quickly establishing himself as the best shot in the entire unit. The second specialist was another operative from Omni-InternOps; Convoked, now wearing a full suit of altered ribsteel armor and carrying two nano-enhanced SMGs.

Dule turned away from the distant horizon and shook his head; he remembered seeing Convoked for the first time since they joined Omni-Tek. Convoked had seemed to grow in experience in terms of both his equipment and overall demeanor; he was no longer the smart-ass thug that Dule had known him as in the Clans, he had been molded into a cold, efficient killing machine by some means during his training with the secretive InternOps. During that first meeting, Convoked had taken Dule aside and shared some very interesting information with him that he had uncovered over the past few months, “The rogue Dust Brigade members found out about our change of allegiance not long after it went through. They’ve issued bounties for both you and Bayala, and they’re hefty bounties at that.” Convoked’s features had taken on a grim appearance as he spoke. “Which means it won’t be long before you have neutral, Clan and maybe even Omni mercs after your ass, not to mention the Dust Brigade themselves who I’m sure haven’t given up on hunting you.” It had only confirmed what Dule had thought all along.

Standing on the solitary hill in the blanketing darkness, Dule peered back at his detachment’s camp, its many figures moving about in the flickering light of the bonfire. Groups of soldiers and militiamen sat near the blaze, telling stories of battles long past to each other. A small group of engineers gathered around four inactive slayer droids, performing maintenance and arguing amongst themselves about the newest upgrades on the market and which ones were superior. A larger group of enforcers were sparring with one another further off from the fire. Dule’s gaze then fell on Rowley, sitting alone in a state of meditation, his sword across his lap and a strange aura of nanobots surrounding him. Rowley had been at the forefront of every tower battle that Dule’s detachment had been in so far, and he had carried out any order Dule gave him with enthusiasm and an inhuman savagery. It puzzled Dule as to why this Atrox was the focus of his nightmares for so long, yet here he is; one of Dule’s most valuable soldiers on the battlefield. Dule tried to let the thought leave his mind, but it stayed there in the background, refusing to fully disappear.

As Dule stood on the hill lost in his thoughts, there was suddenly a crouching figure resembling an Opifex at his side. “I’ve located their towers as well as their base of operations; they are relatively close to one another,” Ronek whispered as he rose slowly to his feet, rifle securely clasped in his hands.

Dule did not start or remove his eyes from the camp as Ronek relayed this information to him. “Good. Go down to the camp and get some rest, you’ll need it for tomorrow.”

Ronek nodded towards Dule as he made his way silently down the hill towards the rest of the detachment. Dule turned from the camp and slowly took up a crouching position, scooping up his helmet as he did so. Turning the helmet over in his hand and examining it, Dule thought to himself, “At first light, we will hit their towers and base at the same time. The morning fog will be all the cover we need to get close enough…” Dule placed his helmet on his head and secured it, then brought his rifle up and cradled it in both arms, fixing his gaze yet again on the far horizon as he breathed silently to himself, “This will surely test us. We’ll be ready though; Fatal Exception won’t know what hit them…and neither will she.”

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

The morning fog had rolled in thick, just as Dule had predicted it would. At the first sign of light that morning, the entire detachment had broken camp and began their march towards Fatal Exception’s towers, armored up and completely focused on the battle that lay before them. The towers were only a few miles from where the detachment had been camped the previous night; built under a canopy of trees that seemed out of place in the rolling hills of the area. It was impressive how a detachment with so many troopers in it could move so silently; Dule and his men crept through the blanket of fog until they were within sniper range of the towers with only the occasional whir of a slayer droid’s gears being heard.

Dule halted the detachment and motioned his sergeants over to him as he peered through a set of binoculars. Dule could see the outer perimeter towers clear enough to tell that they were rocket towers with a laser tower mixed in on each side of the perimeter. Fatal Exception’s tower outpost was larger than any outpost that Dule and his men have hit thus far; but the largest problem facing them were the perimeter towers and troops stationed at the outpost; after all, a standard notum mining tower wasn’t going to shoot any rockets at them. As Dule scanned the outpost he could make out the shapes of men in weathered armor crouching around small fires, performing maintenance on the many towers, or patrolling the compound. Lowering the binoculars, Dule whispered, “There are far too few of them…the rest must be at their base.” Dule turned his head slightly towards Ronek, who was standing beside him. “Where did you say the base was located?”

Ronek gestured to the west of the towers, “Their base camp is located just over those hills, not far from the towers but somewhat hidden by the hills.”

Dule leveled his gaze at the rocket tower closest to them and thought a moment before turning towards the bulk of the detachment and motioning his lead engineer over to him. The engineer silently made his way over to where Dule and his sergeants were crouched and joined them. Dule examined the slayer droids that were towering over the other troopers before turning his attention to the engineer. “When we attack, I want two slayers and one engineer to each perimeter tower. Each engineer will plant a charge at the base of their tower and then fall back to the rest of the detachment. Is that clear?”

The lead engineer nodded slowly, “Aye, sir. And what if the engineer is killed before planting his charge?”

“Then the slayers take down that tower and one of my other troopers will recover the charge. We will hold the attention of their soldiers as best we can and provide you with plenty of cover fire, but there is still a substantial risk involved.”

The lead engineer nodded once again as he whispered, “Understood, it will be done.” He then silently made his way back to the other engineers to inform them of the plan.

Dule turned to Ronek and whispered, “Set your snipers in position.”

Ronek nodded and breathed silently into his com, “Take up covering positions.” Almost immediately after he did so, several agents began breaking off from the main detachment and creeping through the fog to different points around the perimeter of the outpost. Ronek himself crept onto a hill that overlooked both the outpost and the base of operations; he then took up a prone position and peered through the high powered scope mounted on top of his Caterwaul, ready to inform Dule of the first sign of reinforcements from the base.

Dule turned his attention to Rowley, “You know what to do.”

Rowley let a sinister grin show itself on his face as he nodded and looked to the other shock troopers, which consisted of enforcers, martial artists and a few keepers. “Play time.” Was all he growled at them.

Hefting his giant sword onto his shoulder, Rowley began moving quickly across the open ground between the detachment and the outpost, the other shock troopers followed suit; the time for silence had come to an end. Dule stood and motioned for the remaining detachment to take up attack formation, he then began marching towards the outpost with his soldiers; slow enough to allow the shock troops plenty of time to gain the enemy’s full attention. Every soldier had their weapon trained on the target that lay before them, ready to rain death upon the outpost as soon as they were within range. Once the detachment began nearing the outer perimeter of the outpost, the engineers and their slayer droids broke off from formation, seeking to accomplish their individual tasks of crippling the outpost’s defenses.

The snipers in their nests around the outer perimeter watched the shock troopers’ charge; just as the troops were within range of the towers, the snipers each picked an enemy soldier and carefully squeezed off the first rounds of the battle. The simultaneous gunshots that shattered the peaceful silence caused Fatal Exception’s members to leap to their feet and scramble for their weapons as their comrades fell dead from the snipers’ lethal shots. The members of Fatal Exception had armed themselves right about the time when the first sounds of rockets being fired from the perimeter towers could be heard; Rowley and the other shock troopers had reached the outpost. The surprise was evident in the Fatal Exception members, who stood in shock as the shock troopers charged and crashed against them mercilessly. Rowley cleaved the first clanner in two as he tried in vain to get a shot off with his machine pistol; the other shock troopers had done just as well, crushing nearly the entire occupying force in one fell swoop.

After the shock troopers had begun the massacre inside the outpost, the engineers had started their mad dash for the towers. The first engineer almost reached one of the laser towers when he was reduced to pieces by one of the rocket towers; the slayer droids however, managed to reach their destination and immediately went to work on the tower with their powerful arms. The other engineers managed to get to their assigned towers; one had the misfortune of possessing the only faulty charge however; the minute he placed the charge it exploded, destroying the tower, the two slayer droids and himself in an impressive display of firepower. The engineers fell back to the main detachment as soon as the charges were in place; and just as they were rejoining them, the perimeter towers fell in several, nearly simultaneous explosions. The outer defenses were crippled, but the battle had just begun; just about the time that the explosions ripped apart the towers, an alarm went off in Fatal Exception’s base of operations. The entire base mobilized and responded to the attack on their towers.

Ronek had the perfect vantage point; he saw the first of Fatal Exception’s troopers as they ran frantically from the base towards the tower outpost, fully geared for war. Ronek silently whispered into his com, “Here come those reinforcements, you should have a visual any minute.” The steady stream of troopers seemed endless; soldiers, enforcers, engineers, fixers and all kinds of other clanners who were eager to spill Omni-Tek blood. Ronek spoke into his com a second time, “Be advised, there are a significant number of reinforcements…more than we thought.”

Dule didn’t answer; he didn’t have time, because just as the second transmission came through there were clanners pouring over the hill. Dule opened fire first as he dived behind the base of a nearby tower to escape the hail of gunfire that hit where he had been standing. The detachment wasted no time firing on the attacking clanners as they spread out among the outpost to seek cover. Chaos had erupted in the outpost; gunfire ripped through the air everywhere and screams of agony were carried on the wind as the last of Fatal Exception’s reinforcements joined the skirmish. Walking near the rear of the charge was a figure wearing a variation on the cyborg death squad armor and carrying a rather nasty looking machine gun; it was the figure of a woman. In the midst of the gunfire, explosions, screams and sounds of steel meeting steel, Dule saw her in the background, shouting orders as she moved slowly in between the towers of the outpost. “Bayala…” Dule whispered.

A group of soldiers had identified Bayala as one of Fatal Exception’s officers; they moved swiftly through the towers until they were within range of her. The first soldier boldly leaned out from behind a tower to fire on her, only to be met by a hail of gunfire that ripped his upper body to shreds. Bayala leaned against a nearby ruined tower, her barrel smoking as she watched the soldier’s lifeless body crumple to the ground. The other soldiers wasted no time; they leaped from behind their cover and unloaded on Bayala’s position only to see their shots graze her as she dove out of the line of fire. Bayala’s weapon whirred to life as it fired rounds out of it at an unnatural speed; as it did so, Bayala passed her instrument of death over where the soldiers now stood, tearing them apart with the innumerable amount of bullets.

Dule had approached the scene just in time to see his soldiers fall dead to the earth. “Grrr…damn you!” He growled as he raised his assault rifle and emptied his entire magazine at Bayala. Bayala had been caught off guard but she recovered in time to avoid the hail of energy as it tore into the base of the ruined tower that she now hid behind.

“Hmph. You must be their commander; you shoot a far tighter group than your men did I’m afraid.” Bayala shouted mockingly as she waited for her opportunity.

Dule gritted his teeth as he crouched behind a hunk of scrap metal that had fallen from the ruined tower that they now dueled in the shadow of. “What’s the matter? You’re not worried are you?” Dule shouted as he clenched his rifle tightly, eager to bring an end to the fight.

Bayala chuckled as she inched along the base of the tower, seeking an opening to surprise her foe. “Please, Omni scum, I have killed soldiers ten times more skilled than you. Just because you are outfitted with all of those expensive Omni-Tek cyber implants, don’t think you’re going to beat me.”

Dule’s teeth grinded together as anger and a thirst for vengeance washed over him. The time for words had ended; Dule leaned out from his cover and fired a quick burst at what he believed to be Bayala’s cover, he then made a dash for another piece of fallen debris from the tower. Bayala seized the opportunity; rolling out from behind the base of the tower, she fired a three round burst that struck Dule square in the chest, knocking him viciously to the ground. Dule drug himself across the ground slowly, trying to regain himself; his tank armor had stopped the bullets but the impact from the attack left Dule shaken and disoriented. Bayala took her time walking over to where Dule now struggled on the dusty surface, her weapon constantly trained on his head. When she was close enough, Bayala kicked Dule’s rifle from his grasp and placed a boot against his throat.

“A valiant effort, Omni scum, I am impressed to say the least.” Bayala applied pressure with her boot, causing Dule to wince in pain.

Dule peered up at Bayala’s face, shrouded behind her altered helmet. “Go to hell, Bayala.”

Bayala released some of the pressure she was applying when Dule said this. “You know my name do you…who are you, Omni?”

Dule forced a chuckle as Bayala spoke. “What’s the matter, don’t recognize me?”

Bayala straddled Dule, her weapon ever trained on his head. Reaching down with her free hand, Bayala unsecured Dule’s helmet and removed it. “Dule…” She whispered in surprise. Bayala slowly reached up and removed her own helmet, letting it fall to the ground at their side; she stared into Dule’s eyes with the same cold, hard gaze that he remembered. Then she rose to her feet, still staring into Dule’s eyes, weapon still trained on his head. “It doesn’t matter…you deserted us. The Dust Brigade may have gone to hell…we may have had hits out on us, but… You’re a traitor!” Dule thought he had seen a tear in her eye, but he didn’t have time to know for sure.

There was a sound like someone hitting a watermelon with a baseball bat and Dule was suddenly staring at the end of Rowley’s sword as it stuck through Bayala’s torso. The look on Bayala’s face had changed to one of sheer surprise and terror; her eyes were still locked with Dule’s. Rowley lifted Bayala’s limp body into the air and slammed it face first onto the ground, sword still plunged through her torso. Placing his foot on the back of Bayala’s head, Rowley viciously removed his sword, showering the immediate area with her blood as he did so. Dule was lying where he had been, still in shock from what had just happened; as he looked next to him he looked into Bayala’s eyes but saw only emptiness and the look of surprise that was still plastered on her lifeless face.

A hand took hold of Dule’s and helped him to his feet; it was Convoked. Convoked had a grim look on his face as he examined Dule’s shocked expression. “You knew it would come to this some day…” He whispered so that only Dule could hear.

Dule nodded as he regained his senses and crouched to pick up his helmet. “I know that…It was just something that had to be done…” Dule secured his helmet on his head, then walked over to where his rifle laid on the ground and picked it up. “What’s the status on the outpost?”

“Casualties are high, but we have driven Fatal Exception from the towers and their base. We have succeeded.” Ronek stated as he approached from the direction of Fatal Exception’s base of operations.

Dule had regained himself as he began moving away from the shadow of the ruined tower and towards the area where the surviving members of the detachment had gathered. “Good. I will notify HQ and let them know that the area is secured and ready for an occupation platoon.” Dule’s voice sounded hollow and almost mechanical as he spoke. Bodies of both Omni-Tek and Clan members littered the ground as Dule walked towards the muster point where the main control tower and what remained of his unit awaited him.

Dule stopped as he stepped into the area surrounding Fatal Exception’s control tower; he looked over his shoulder at the ruined tower that he and Bayala had dueled beneath and whispered softly to himself, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”

((To be continued...))

[Tradersoft]

omg

[Dule05]

The darkened streets of Borealis were rather empty compared to what they usually were during the daytime hours; this night found only shady citizens and the occasional restless wanderer inhabiting the shadowy alleys of the city and the courtyard surrounding the lonely grid terminal. Among these individuals walked a tall, thin Opifex man wearing a long black trench coat that was cinched tightly as far up as it would go. The Opifex casually smoked a cigarette as he strolled along the dark streets, one hand in his pocket and a troubled look weighing heavy on his features. As he moved past the courtyard surrounding the grid terminal, the man watched the small group of figures who were gathered out of the corner of his eye, though it was discreetly enough to not draw their attention. As he moved into a pitch black alleyway, the man removed a keycard from his pocket, he then proceeded to slide it against the scanner of a warehouse door that seemed to appear from out of nowhere in the darkness. As the warehouse door slid open, the alley that the Opifex found himself in was suddenly bathed in a dull light originating from inside the building; tossing his cigarette to the ground, the man exhaled smoke as he casually stepped inside and heard the door slam shut behind him.

Inside the warehouse, the scene was lighted only by dull light that emanated from a few hanging bulbs here or there, and it was faded by a thin layer of smoke that seemed to fill just about everywhere in the small quarters. Two Solitus men stood on either side of the door; they wore full nomad armor including helmets that covered their faces entirely, carried automatic pistols and stood rigid as if on guard duty. As the Opifex man moved past the guards he noted that there were no crates, boxes, or containers of any kind; there was only a single table with two chairs in the middle of the room, and an Atrox was already sitting in one of the chairs. This Atrox wore a type of armor that was unknown to the Opifex, it was a dull blue in color and had several sinister looking spikes jutting from the shoulders and upper back area; even though he had never seen anything like it before, he guessed that it was for use in heavy combat situations.

The Atrox puffed on a cigar as he scanned over two folders that were sitting in front of him on the table; he didn’t even look up as the Opifex man approached and took a seat across from him. “Y’know…you really took your sweet time getting here.” The Atrox grumbled as he continued scanning the paperwork in front of him.

The Opifex shrugged as he eyed the Atrox from across the table, “Took me awhile to find the place. Just remember, you’re the one who contacted me.”

The Atrox finally stopped scanning the paperwork in front of him and pushed it across the table towards the Opifex. “Well, let us get down to business then. There’s the information on the two targets that we’re contracting you for.” The Atrox then placed a small box that he had been holding on the table in front of the Opifex. “And that is the means by which we want the jobs finished.”

The Opifex paid no attention to the files; he gently picked up the box and opened the lid to reveal two rifle cartridges. “Perma-death rounds…my cost just went up.”

The Atrox chuckled a little as he rose to his feet and leaned forward, placing his fists on the table and staring into the cold eyes of the Opifex. “Remember who it is you are dealing with, Ronek. The Dust Brigade doesn’t compromise.” The Atrox continued staring into Ronek’s eyes, but he didn’t sense an ounce of fear within the Agent; slowly a smile spread across his lips. “But then again, I like you. We are willing to go as high as ten for each target.”

Ronek closed the box containing the perma-death rounds and placed it inside a pocket on his coat. “Then it would seem we have a deal. It really is too bad you didn’t contact me earlier; I had the perfect opportunity to take out the woman at one of her own tower outposts about a week ago.”

The Atrox shook his head. “So long as Dule and Bayala are taken care of you will receive your payment; I don’t care how you do it or where you do it.”

Ronek nonchalantly skimmed through the files that were sitting in front of him as he spoke. “Dule is my commander after all; it may be difficult to secure his contract while remaining above su****ion.” Ronek’s voice sounded hollow and dripped with cynicism.

The Atrox stood upright and let out a loud laugh that seemed to shake the very room that they found themselves in. “Ha! I’ve known people like you my whole life, Ronek. The only allegiance you’re capable of feeling is towards yourself and the almighty credit.” The Atrox leaned forward once again and stared at Ronek, who had glanced up from the papers he was skimming over. “You are nothing more than a hired gun; you are a picture of true neutrality, my friend.”

Ronek shuffled the files together neatly and scooped them up as he rose to his feet. “You’re finally catching on.” With that, Ronek turned and made his way to the door guarded by the two Dust Brigade troopers.

The Atrox took his seat and leaned back slightly, still puffing on his cigar. “Don’t miss with those bullets, Ronek. Failure on this contract could tarnish what may turn into a very profitable business relationship.”

Ronek looked over his shoulder at the Atrox and offered a slight smile before disappearing in a shimmer of transparent light. The door opened and closed as Ronek left the warehouse, unseen by the eyes of the three Dust Brigade members.

The Atrox sat upright in his chair as he muttered, “Optical camouflage eh? You sneaky bastard…” Taking a long drag from his cigar, he got on his com and began relaying the events of the meeting to his superiors.

((To be continued...))

[Dule05]

The wind blew through the dark, empty streets of Omni-1’s entertainment district, picking up pieces of trash and carrying them down the street before discarding them back to the ground. Dule walked along, his hands in the pockets of his black trench coat as he made his way towards the night club known as Baboons. It had been two weeks since the skirmish with Fatal Exception; Dule had been given leave until further notice by his commander. Dule had appreciated the leave, but it proved to not last long; the Commander sent a transmission to Dule that morning requesting the meeting that he was now on his way to.

As Dule entered the dark night club, he noticed that it wasn’t as packed as he expected it to be; it was after all, still early in the night. Dule followed the instructions that the Commander had given him and moved towards the rear of the club, weaving in and out of drunken dancers as they flailed about on the dance floor, doing a mix between a dance and a seizure. The sounds of pounding techno music and the yells of the patrons drowned out as Dule moved down the back hallway until he came to the room that the Commander had described; and sure enough, as he walked into the room he saw the Commander sitting at a table with a half empty highball glass sitting in front of him. The Commander was wearing his normal black Omni-AF uniform, covered by a long trench coat that was olive drab in color. Dule took a seat across from the Commander and removed the Keelar sunglasses that he had been wearing, placing them inside a pocket on his coat.

“What’s with the night club?”

The Commander looked up at Dule, chuckling slightly as he replied, “Baboons is a club that has been in Omni-1 since its construction. Although I’ve been disappointed lately; not very many people come here anymore.”

Dule sighed. “I meant, why are we meeting here?”

The Commander took a pull off his drink and sat it back down on the table, “Gotta appreciate good vodka. Anyway, I asked you to meet me here because I know that here; you and I are the only ones who will hear what gets said.”

Dule nodded, “Alright, well what is it? Do you want us to hit another outpost?”

“No, I’m reassigning your unit. As of tomorrow, your unit will begin heavy combat training. While that is being done, I have a special assignment for you in particular.”

“I don’t understand, shouldn’t I be training with my unit?”

The Commander shook his head, “They will be under the supervision of me for the duration of their training exercises. By the time you return, the training will be concluded anyway.”

A slender, attractive Opifex female approached the table. “Good evening, sir. Is there anything I can get for you?”

Dule glanced at the woman out of the corner of his eye. “Jack, straight up.”

The woman scribbled the order down on the notepad she was carrying and gave the two soldiers a quick smile before walking off in the direction of the bar.

The Commander laughed as he followed the woman with his eyes. “Still drinking the cheap stuff, eh? If whiskey’s your thing, try some of the Scottish group, it’s not bad at all.”

Dule retained a look of seriousness as he replied, “Good whiskey is good whiskey, no matter how much it costs. Now what about this assignment you mentioned?”

The Commander’s features reverted back to a stern, serious look; one that Dule was more used to seeing. “You will assemble a small team of your best, most trusted men to accompany you into the Shadowlands. Once there, you will search for one of our associates who has not been heard from for several days now; whether he is dead or alive, you will find him and confirm his status.”

The Opifex woman returned and placed a drink in front of Dule, then turned and walked towards the larger area of the club.

Dule took a small sip from his drink, contemplating what had just been said to him. “I don’t want to go there.”

The Commander cocked his head to one side, smiling slightly. “It’s not a matter of want, soldier. I selected you for this job and it is a job that must be carried out, that’s all there is to it.”

Dule nodded slowly. “What’s so special about this guy? What makes him different from the hundreds of other people that have died in that damn place?”

“That information is classified. All that you need to know is that he is believed to be in the area of Elysium, he is a Nanomage male, he is a Nanotechnician, and he has no insurance policy.”

Dule gave a slight smirk as he looked at the Commander. “Brilliant. Who the hell sent this guy into the Shadowlands without an insurance policy?”

“That’s not important right now.”

“If I do find this guy and he’s decomposing under a rock somewhere, what do you want me to do? Since he has no policy, he isn’t going to be showing up at a reclaim terminal anytime soon…”

“If it turns out that he is in fact dead, then I want you to search his person and recover all data files as well as anything else that seems out of the ordinary.”

Dule took a drink from his whiskey, and then sat back in his chair. “Well, an order is an order I suppose. When do we leave?”

The Commander finished what was left of his vodka and rose to his feet. “Tomorrow, as soon as your team is geared up.”

Dule smiled as he looked at his whiskey, swirling it slowly in his hand. “This should be an interesting job, to say the least. Thanks for the drink, boss.”

The Commander nodded towards Dule then began making his way out of the room. “I’ll send you a hardcopy of the mission details later tonight.”

Dule sat and stared idly at the glass of whiskey that sat in his hand for awhile after the Commander had left. Then he rose to his feet and downed what was left in his glass. Placing his Keelar sunglasses back on his head, Dule sent a transmission to Convoked, “Muster tomorrow at 0600 hours on the Jobe platform. Come fully loaded out and geared up for battle conditions. Spread the word to Rowley and Ronek.”

“You got it.” Was all Convoked replied with.

((To be continued...))