A Path Forgotten

[Bahirae]

Like many high rising Omni-Tek citizens, what’s often discarded are the sacrifices they make in their past to benefit their future. No sacrifice without consequence and no consequence without effect.

Delve into a history of both Omni-Tek and Ms Seruguisu that will chill you to the core, venturing into areas that Omni-Tek still keep classified to this very day. After all, how did a newly arrived Omni-Pol soldier rise through the ranks so fast without so much as a spec of su****ion?

((Entries will be added every Friday, progressively giving more detail and developing subsequent chapters. Enjoy!))

* * *

Omni-Prime, 29460.

“…Lifesigns are failing, patient is going into toxic shock…” Hospital, hospital bed,

“…flushing the toxins, there’s extensive internal bleeding…success rate is minimal.” Lights, many lights,

“…we need to stop the breakdown, systematic failure across all organs…” one light, bright light, pretty, tempting, touch it…

“…flatlining…damage too extensive for cardio electro stimuli, call it.”

* * *

Chapter One: I, Bahirae.

Omni-Prime, 29462.
Entertainment Quadrant, Sector Eight.

“…don’t get me wrong, she was a nice woman at times,” Bea replied, gingerly sipping the overly hot contents of her coffee cup. The walk through the entertainment quadrant, despite the name was incredibly monotonous, structure after structure all the same, every shop, every store, every club every door, all the same as the last. All Omni-endorsed.

Twisting a piece of his muffin off with his fingers and swallowing it, Alex took a moment to watch Bea as they walked. “I just can’t believe she’s gone, to be here one day, gone the next, really shows the fragility of how things stand in this company.”

“Careful Lex, you wouldn’t want reform to question your motives.” She grinned, popping the cap on the cup and swirling the contents, watching the foam segment and sink. He went silent, “You know I’m kidding, what happened to the days when you and I could have a friendly joke?”

Alex stopped Bea with a sudden hand to her shoulder and turned her to face him, “Look Bea, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for fun and games just…don’t joke about reform, it’s not funny. I’ve seen it done.”

She nodded, “I oughta, get going I’ve got work to do, projects to finish over at the school. Have a good day Lex.” The two parted company and Bea turned to watch him pass around the corner. She pulled a small object out from behind her ear and slipped it into her inner ear canal. It whirred to life and extended an arm down towards her mouth, activating with a light at the end it autodialed. “Reform Sector Four, Access Code Please.” Came the voice of the woman from the other end. “Bahirae-Alpha-Echo-One-One-Nine. I’d like to report an employee who’s going off course…”

[Bahirae]

Omni-Prime, 29462.
Omni-Bank, Floor Six, Deposits and Withdrawals.

“Of course ma’am, if you could just confirm your thumbprint on the form and we’ll get the credits sorted out for you.” Alex slid the scanner round to face the woman, the lines on her face seemed to change with each expression she made, from the smallest indentation to the highest ridge, she was old. But then again he didn’t need to start guessing to know that. ‘Constance Eunice Halliwell, Age: 103’ according to her bank records on his screen. There was a quick beep and the screen gained a green tint to it. “Fingerprint ID confirmed” flashed in the corner of the screen and brought a smile to Alex’s face. “Okay, one moment please…”

Alex’s neural implant sprung to life, and the windows on the screen began moving with the motion of his eyes, he entered information and accepted terms and condition screens without his hands ever unclasping. Since the invention of the neural interface, it’d become incredibly common for people such as Alex, as a financial advisor to be given a neural implant, allowing them to access information that they needed via their cortex rather than a primitive ‘keyboard and mouse.’ “Hmm..” He turned to the woman and smiled, rising to his feet. “The funds will be transferred into your account in three working days, thank you for coming to Omni-Bank!” He shook the lady’s hand with a sweet smile in return. She turned slowly and began to hobble down the corridor and out the exit in that slow yet methodic way that old people do. He didn’t mind them, honest.

Usually he would have guided her to the door, but it was something about today that made him feel a little restricted, or perhaps….Alex looked around, ::Where are the other staff?:: Alex thought, the offices, cubicles, customer waiting area, all empty.

He spun his screen round and went to pull up the staff roster. “Access Denied” The computer responded, the voice not entering his ears, but instead electronically transmitted into the audio processors in his brain. Essentially, thanks to the implant it was a voice inside his head, one that only he could hear. He slid his lower lip between his teeth and pinched it with a small amount of tension. Looking around something wasn’t right, something couldn’t be right. He tried pulling on a newsfeed, anything related to the ban-“Access Denied.” Barked the screen. “System Glitch” He said, looking around. He logged out of the system and re-entered his details. He got to the end of his name and it didn’t confirm his position as it usually would. Where it should come up with ‘D&W Dept’ it showed complete blank, “what the hell?” he spun on his heels and looked towards the exits from this floor. Eyeing the staff elevator he got nothing from it, not even an access denied, the doors should open when he access it, but the…implant. He turned back to his screen and moved his eyes to bring up a diagnostic, the screen didn’t respond.

“System, manual access.” He said, moving round to his original side of the desk. The computer didn’t respond. “System, emergency overri-*SPLAT*” There was a purple haze to everything for a moment before Alex landed face first onto his desk, the speed in which he did bounced him clean off it and onto the floor, his head ending the noise with a firm thud. No more than a few nanoseconds of silence passed before the sound of glass shards hit the floor from one of the windows. The black armour clad soldier pulled his gun from the newly created hole in the window. “Confirmed, target is neutralised. Begin insertion.” Came the husky voice of sniper, he turned, looked down and then began recoiling his climbing rope, returning him to the roof of the building.

The previously deactivated staff elevator whirred to life and four armed guards poured out, followed by three white cloak wearing individuals and a silhouetted figure who remained in the elevator.

The soldiers spread out, meticulously checking the floor. “Alpha, Secure.” He turned and slapped his gun against his chest. Standing to attention.

“Charlie Secure.” The pistol-wielding soldier turned, flipping the pistols over twice before returning them to his stomach and back holsters.

“Delta, Secure.” The shotgun-totting woman checked the ammunition in her gun before cocking it, she grinned with a sense of unsettling satisfaction.

“Bravo, Secure.” The third was without a weapon, but instead had some sort of monofilament wrapping around the armour on their legs and arms. The muscle growth on the wrapped areas was massive, almost like an atrox except with the body of a solitus.

The silhouetted individual moved out of the elevator and towards the sedated man, “Bravo, check the roof.” She ordered, pointing up at the skylight.

The monofilaments across the soldier’s armour sprung to life and he turned, running for a wall. Having got at least ten feet up the wall at commendable speed, the soldier kicked off it going into a backwards somersault. Landing on the ground beneath the skylight, the legs of the individual bent out sideways, mimicking the motion of a frog before it jumps. In no less than a second, pushing off the sheer power available in the monofilament enhanced legs the soldier dived upwards in excess of twenty feet and straight out the skylight onto the roof.

“Roof secure” came the call over the comm. “Good,” The woman moved over and lightly punted the body with her foot. “Get him up, out and to HQ.” The scientists moved in and dropped a dimension crushing storage device onto the floor. It unfolded and a stretcher slid out the end of it. The scientists loaded him up and headed back for the staff elevator. “Soldiers, move out.” The woman ordered, sliding her hand into her top pocket. She pulled a small rectangular isolinear sheet from it, placing it on the desk.

The group loaded into the staff elevator, leaving the room empty, except for the small shards of glass, and the small sheet that read: “Leanne Holley, Extraction and Infiltration, Specialist Operations, Omni-Reform”

To Be Continued...

[Bahirae]

((Okay, so I couldn't wait til Friday to post this, I wrote it, read it and decided that the previous cliffhanger wasn't enough to leave you hanging til Friday, so ladies, gentlemen and non-gender specifics, I give you this)

* * *

The bedroom held an cosy aura to it, despite undeniably Omni-Tek design, the golden hue from the rising sun split the blandness asunder and bathed it in a blurred light, disturbed only by the partially drawn curtains. The room was barely decorated; a few paintings from the 29270’s Neo-Renaissance movement and a singular lamp in the corner of the room, devoid of any crowned shade or cover. Two doors covered the east wall, one open, the other closed.

Beyond the former, only darkness spread into the rest of the high-rise apartment. The automatic curtains hadn’t received voice command to open yet and thus kept the apartment absent of light. The latter door however spread a white light across the floor of the bedroom, the sound of running water beyond it. Constant in it’s motion, the water remained undisturbed, the bathroom beyond vacated.

“Honey, wake up. It’s gone seven-thirty.” She shook her husband lightly, pulling the covers off him and taking the open book clasped in his hands, placing it on the bedside cabinet.

He replied with a slight mumble, rolling over in bed to face her. “What time is it?” he murmured.

“It’s seven fourty-five. If you don’t get up soon you’re going to be late for work! Can’t be late for Omni-Tek!” She said, smiling.

Alex’s eyes bolted open, “What?”

“I said..urr…you can’t be late for Omni-Tek.” Her eyes darted from one place to another momentarily before returning to him, a small smile forming on her face. “Honey, is everything okay?”

“I don’t know Janet, I really don’t know. I had a…a nightmare of sorts.” He coiled his feet in towards his chest, still lying in bed. This granted room for Janet to sit down beside him, her hand cupped, firmly embracing his.

“What happened?”

“I was at work, and, one minute I was helping someone and then the next no-one was there and then, then everything went dark.”

Janet smiled, tightening the grip on his hand. “You don’t remember?”

Alex looked back with a puzzled look, releasing his hand from hers and rising to a seated position on the bed, the pillows scrunched up behind him against the headrest. “Remember what?”

“You passed out at work yesterday, as you fainted you hit your head on the desk, left a big gash in your head. That’s why you have a bandage on your head.” She tapped it lightly just above his nose, the bandage encompassed the entirety of his crown, hair and all. “Work took you straight to an Omni-Tek hospital, where the Omni-Med doctors had you fixed right up.” She smiled and leant in close, “Shows that Omni-Tek does protect after all.”

Alex watched her as she moved back, “You’re a little pro Omni for this time of the morning, slip a little something extra into your coffee?”

“What are you talking about?” Janet pushed off the bed and went for the other curtain, she motioned her hand towards the wall, the curtain acting accordingly and retreating. The light dazed Alex, not expecting the sudden burst of light. “Omni-Tek’s provided us with all this, and all you can do is moan when they’re mentioned?”

Alex swung his feet round and lifted himself out of bed. “I’m having a bath.” He turned on his heels and moved round the bed, into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, the bedroom now falling silent. He took a moment to eye himself in the mirror, “Janet?”

“….” There was nothing but silence beyond the bedroom. “Yes Honey?” Came the delayed response.

“Why did you wake me for work if I have this head injury?” Alex shouted.

“I…I completely forgot, I’ve been so busy this morning with helping downstairs move in, I haven’t had a chance to think!” She replied.

He took a moment to stare into the window, placing his hands on the crown bandage. “Why am I at home and not at a hospital if I have a head wound?” He muttered to himself. Taking his hands off his head he dismissed it for but a moment, hands cupped, he struck his face with a cold splash of water from the running taps. The front of the bandage absorbed a large amount of the water, clinging to his forehead.

He watched precariously as the water spread from thread to thread, sticking to him and translucently exposing the forehead beneath. Except, there was no scar on the front. He reached around the bandage for some sort of tuck to it, so he might pull it off. His searching became more frantic until he finally grasped it, gasped and pulled the thing clean off his head.

It fell in ribbons into the sink, and he looked up in shock. He had no hair, no eyebrows. Stumbling back, he hit something, something soft. He recoiled in a split second reaction and turned to a room filled with nothing but himself and his fears. He laughed slightly, lifting his hands up towards his head. “It’s on my head somewhere.” He ran his hands over, finally reaching for the back of his head, he watched as something glinted out of the corner of his eye. Alex turned once more, as the skin on his neck impacted under the slight, sharp pressure of something and he felt the rush of cold. Icy cold. The feeling violated him, spreading beyond his neck, to his chest, his stomach, his legs, everything went dark and he fell for what seemed like forever.

The lights faded in the apartment, the walls peeling away, the water dissolving and the furniture shattering into but a million pieces. Alex still lay sprawled across a floor, except there was a man in a black full-body suit leaning over him. His body fading into view. Pulling the needle harshly from Alex’s neck, the man rose to his feet, speaking into his wrist unit. “Time index Oh two hundred hours and twenty four minutes, subject relapse and discovery of injury, sedation complete.”

The Omni-Tek apartment building was nothing but an illusion thanks to Omni-Reform’s unique HMI (Holographic Memory Integration) treatment, designed to re-acquaint stray members of society with the ways of Omni-Tek by turning chaos to order and bringing peace to the minds of those not blessed with the trust of the company and the unyielding faith.

“What the hell happened?” Barked a tall, thin man, entering the room. He looked down at the subject, sedated and sprawled across the floor. “I’m in the middle of my coffee and I get a red-light on subject #94?”

“Mr Marcus, Sir. I can explain, the subject had a relapse. He discovered he didn’t have a head wound and…”

“He discovered?!” Dave Marcus barked, “and how in hell’s bells did he discover that?”

“The wife, along with him taking off the bandage and having a panic attack in the bathroom. It caused a relapse.” The reform officer replied, somewhat frightened by the threat this man posed. Dave Marcus was one of Omni-Prime’s top reformers, he’d personally overseen thousands of reformations worldwide and created upstanding citizens out of all of them, perfect, line-following citizens that were an asset to society.

“A relapse? What about his short term memory, wasn’t that wiped?”

“You ordered it scrambled sir, you wanted him to appear that he had bashed his head and he’d gotten confused.”

“No I did not.”

The reform officer took a moment, answering back with the wrong answer to this man could result in him being on the different end of an HMI in less than a day. “No you did not sir, this was my mistake. I’ll have his memory wiped and we’ll begin again tomorrow.”

“You’re damn right you better. This time, wipe his memory, holo-mesh him some new hair, I don’t want him discovering his chips and get rid of the ruddy wife! Put him in a hospital for the first scenario!” Dave barked the orders on an outward bound direction, the final words rounded off with the closing of the sliding doors, the clear plasteel fading back to it’s clouded grey, meshing with the walls.

The reform officer prodded the subject with his foot. “Well Mr ninety-four. Or..Alex. Looks like we gotta get you to a hospital…”

[Bahirae]

Omni-Prime, 29462.
Omni-Entertainment District 4.

“Columbian black, hold the cream, sugar and milk and a Iced Latté.” The blonde haired woman turned away from the cashier for but a moment, gingerly fingering her hair and pulling it behind her shoulder. She caught a glimpse of the rising sun beyond the high-rise buildings of the district, creating but a slither of pure light within the coffee shop that started by the door and made it’s way across the room and up the wall of vintage coffee bean jars.

“That’s eight credits please.” Came the reply, Alicia checked her purse and handed over the amount. Picking up the tray.

Meanwhile, Bahirae run her finger across the table, pushing a few sugar granules off the edge of the table and onto the floor. Rubbing her index and middle fingers together, she brushed the remaining granules off them and turned towards Alicia. “Thanks” she said, accepting her black coffee. She flinched slightly at the hot mug, almost dropping it onto the table.

“Careful, it’s hot,” came the obvious, if delayed response from Alicia. She sat down, joining Bahirae and took a moment to push her purse back into her bag. She sighed a sigh of relief, glad to be sat down.

“How goes the work over at Research and Development?” Bahirae asked, stirring the coffee in an attempt to cool it down.

“Oh the usual, classified, in progress and yet to be revealed.” Alicia sipped her drink, watching Bahirae as she did so. The response to what she said was no so much words, but a smile and a nod. Bahirae was a tight grip to loyalty, her friendly gestures were not without hidden agenda in attempt to test one’s mettle and willingness to serve the company. She was a born and bred Omni, even on Omni-Prime there was resistance movements, admittedly underground but almost everyone had heard of them and considered for a moment. Omni-Tek lead partially with the competitive rates they had, but they also lead with fear.

Bahirae flicked open her wrist comm, checking the feed. Only two Omni-Pol squadrons were out in the local district, while not an unusual number for this time of the morning, she had a sneaking su****ion more would be needed. She always did, Bahirae worked to expect the worst of a situation that way, whatever happened she was likely to see something better happen.

The streets outside were quiet, directly outside the coffee shop a Yalmaha zoomed by, approximately twenty feet above the ground. It barely had passed the shop before something fell from it. The object fluttered to the ground and settled for but a second. A wall tile slid inwards on the opposing building, something zooming out of it at high speed. A set of closely clustered waste bots moved upon the paper at high speed and encircled it. They took a moment to scan it, before slicing into it with lasers, absorbing it into their storage compartments with a short vacuum. An effective waste management system for over fifty years. Silence fell once more upon the street, the distant sound of chattering from an adjacent street.

“Stocks in Sol Banking are up today,” Alicia checked the holopaper, scrolling down on the singular screen that had risen up in the table they sat at.

“Turn to page twenty four. The Omni-Exposé on Sol Banking’s fraud claim has yet to affect the stocks, they’ll plummet in about six to ten weeks.” Bahirae pulled her feet up off the floor and crossed her legs, leaning back slightly on the bench.

“Oooh, ‘Rubi-Ka: Where Death Isn’t Fatal!’ Looks like they perfected that insurance technology.” Alicia put three fingers down on the screen and pushed it towards Bahirae, the image slid across the table under the command of her fingers.

Placing a single finger on the corner, she rotated it clockwise, the image turned round so it was easily readable by Bahirae. “Based on an eight year old ruling by the ICC…blah blah…Omni-tek have integrated insurance technologies across Rubi-Ka, this technology works to prevent death by storing the soul in a computer, making it easily isolatable from the unfortunate corpse of an employee and transferring it to a new cloned body….coupled with the age-deceleration of implants and a standard Omni-Med diet, one can hope to see the life expectancy of a citizen of Ka to increase significantly.” Bahirae turned the article back round with her finger, and slid it back across to Alicia. “I don’t want to live forever,” She replied, grasping the now manageable coffee cup.

“This doesn’t appeal to you at all?” Alicia asked, rummaging in her bag for her planner. Despite modern day technology, she refused to store elements of her private life on her wrist-comm, instead preferring to write them down. She began scribbling something down on the page marked ‘Saturday 14th September, 29460’ “I’m going to speak to see about booking a shuttle with Omni-Trans, maybe cash in some holiday time.”

Bahirae downed a large part of her coffee, with it now growing cold she took the opportunity to drink it when it was at its favourite temperature; Luke warm. “Anything about quelling the resistance movements on Rubi-Ka in that paper?” She asked, peering over her cup.

“hmm….one moment, I’ll do a search.” Alicia began tapping away at the paper. “Ah yes. Small story, four lines. “Omni-Tek press on Clan stress; the resistance movement against Omni-Tek on Rubi-Ka suffered another blow as Omni-Tek continues to tighten it’s stronghold, closing down more mines in an ongoing effort since 29459. An Omni representative said that this would work to secure profits on Rubi-Ka so that employee wages are not adversely affected” Alicia laughed. “They sure know how to write these things to make them drive home.”

“Of course they do,” Bahirae took a moment to finish her coffee, “After all, Omni-Tek doesn’t make any money in the area, they won’t deem it profitable and they’ll just leave. They have to keep interests, in employees too.”

“I suppose, you ready to go? It’s almost half eight.” Alicia asked, she took a moment to look outside, the streets busying as people began heading for the subways and transports. Those that could afford yalms were riding in them at various heights above the street, a proverbial cornucopia of colours moving in various directions, golds, silvers, blacks, greens and blues. The choice method of transport of Omni-Prime, while not cheap they were a status symbol, often given on a company contract to those that earned them. “You gunna catch the subway?”

Bahirae replied with a short shake of her head, she’d forgotten to tie up her hair today and instead it flowed onto her shoulders, elements of kinks to the hair from where it had been tied up. “I’m going to walk it, I’ve got a few essays to review before I get to the school.”

The two smiled and parted company with Alicia following the crowd towards the subway. Bahirae cut down an alleyway near the coffee shop. She flipped open her wrist-comm and walked for a few feet. “Deactivate cloaking device” She said, looking up into the air. At no less than ten feet in the air, the outline of a yalm shimmered into view, blocking the light and casting a shadow onto her. It sank to the ground slightly, perfect height for her to climb in. Releasing the catch on the side, she did so, laying back and watching as the lid closed on the flying vehicle. “Autopilot engage: Set a course for Omni-Pol HQ. Southern Hemisphere. Maximum velocity.”

[Bahirae]

Omni-Prime, 29462.
Omni-Pol HQ.

“Capable of withstanding barrage from rebel weapons with up to 60% more effectively than standard issue Omni-Pol armour. Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce, the Assault Issue Omni-Pol Elite Armour.” General Johnson turned towards the centre of the table and pointed at the holographic projector. It sprung to life, projecting a solitus male in the aforementioned armour. The blue tint from the wire-mesh holographics offset the black colour of the armour somewhat, but still the holographic gave the spectators the ability to view the armour as the image rotated at a slow speed.

“If I may?” Chief Research and Development Scientist Loretta Yimou pushed herself up off her chair with a nod from Johnson. “Combined with monofilament technology, the suit offers increased protection against any form of assault, chemical, biological, radioactive, even hand to hand.” Ms Yimou looked down the table towards the other associates. “Infact, we’ve prepared a demonstration upstairs on the observation deck if you’d like to make your way up there?” She turned and looked to General Johnson.

He coughed quickly, taking down the sip of water and looking up at the woman. “Yes, yes, lets make our way up there.”

It took but a few minutes for them to move to the observation deck and overlook combat scenario room four. Almost like a bare warehouse, the area was permacrete floors and bland walls. “Holographic Chamber, it’ll allow us to generate a challenge for both our soldiers and the rebels.” Yimou leant forward, over the railing and tapped on the translucent panel embedded in the glass.

“I take it these are the batch I had brought here this morning?” Dave Marcus looked over at the General and his scientist.

“Yes Mister Marcus, care to explain about them?” General Johnson looked round, pulling the top on his uniform down slightly to smooth out the ruffles.

“They’re a menace, originally designed to be extra aggressive Omni-Pol soldiers they believe that they’re too good for our ways, that they’re above our race. So, after upping their testosterone levels and stimulating their synaptic activity we’ve offered them freedom, then shoved them in a cage.”

The room fell silent at the brutal methods of Dave Marcus, General Johnson broke the silence, “If the armour lives up to it’s reputation, which it will.” He placed his hand on Loretta’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly to emphasise what was resting on this. “Then these individuals will be of no threat to our soldiers…bring up the roster of who we’re putting in.”

Loretta moved away and pulled up the Omni-Pol Squad roster, stretching it out across the observation window. She stepped back, having established a neural link with the system. “What do you recommend General? Standard Squad?”

“No, Four heavy ranged, Two light ranged, One Demolition, One Melee.”

“Okay, assigning the soldiers the weapons…building the scenario now.”

Michael laughed, picking up the grenades and sliding them into the various holsters on his armour suit. “Seriously Bea, why’d you stick with fists?”

She stared forward, watching the closed blast door and rubbing her fingers together, each hand down by her side. “It’s better this way. I prefer to be hands on.”

“Suit yourself. But if I blow you up, it’s your fault.” He spun the empty magazine on the launcher and dropped a few grenades into it before letting it slow down. With a quick sideways wrist movement, the mag was locked back into the grenade launcher.

“Okay ladies listen up.” Barry Ellis stepped forward; being the most experienced he’d automatically taken charge. Plus he had the biggest gun, an Omni-Tek sanctioned import. “Me and the lord here are taking charge, we’ve got some wound up rebels in there and they’re not going to go down without a fight.”

Bahirae looked at the weapon, her ocular implant scanning the thing, :: Details:: She thought, as her mind began to scan the records for this weapon. ::Match found:: came the response in her mind. ::Lord of Anger, Microwave energy, mother of mercy that thing’s an oven in a gun…::

“Bahirae?” Captain Ellis started at her. “Bahirae, don’t make me ask you again. Do you want a weapon?”

“No, I’m fine.” She snapped out of it and met his glare.

“Good.” Ellis tapped his wrist comm unit, “General, we’re ready.” He turned to the team and indicated for them to put their helmets on. A few moments passed allowing them to suit up.

Ms Yimou’s voice came over the comm across the entire simulation area. “This is a live combat scenario, clear the area. Combatant release in ten seconds.”

Ellis checked his rifle at the nine, Mike; grenades and Max rifle at the seven. Luke unholstered his pistols at the six and Lynne at the four. Kyle cocked his shotgun at the three and Tristan slapped a mag into his machine gun at the two leaving Bahirae clenching her fists at the one.

The blast door siren sounded and it opened with a diamond pattern, retreating to it’s four corners. Pulling various hands signs, Ellis pointed the team off in different directions. Tristan with Kyle. Lynne with Ellis, Max with Luke and Mike with Bahirae.

The group settled into their assault positions, checking all angles. “No sign of motion yet.” Max checked the thermal sight on his rifle.

Ellis checked the motion scanner on his comm. “Teams report.”

Tristan leant out slightly, pistols at the ready and aiming down the rubble littered corridor. “West wall is clear.”

“East passage clear” came Lynne’s response.

“I’m seeing no movement down here.” Mike responded, having moved down to the lower level.

“Where the hell are th-“ Ellis’ question became all too soon as an explosion sounded off to the west.

“Tristan report!” Ellis turned his gun westward.

“We’re under fire, unable to get an ID on the weapons being used.” Tristan’s response was muffled slightly as he sprayed bullets at the enemy.

“Bea, see anything?” Mike moved through the lower level corridor, two unpinned grenades, one in each hand. Bahirae was but two metres from him, walking tightrope on a pipe of some sort. “Not from up here no, b-“ She fell silent and stopped in her tracks. “Wait, there’s movement at four o clock. Hit me with a flashbang.” Bahirae changed her stance on the pipe, sliding one foot to the side.

Mike obliged and threw the grenade in his left hand skyward. It reached it’s peak and Bahirae jumped, in a roundhouse kick her foot met the grenade, sending it flying for where she last saw the movement. Landing back on the pipe she turned her glance away, the helmet defended her ears from the blast and the photosensitive filters on the visor protected them against any ocular overload, but she still turned out of habit.

“Move in!” Mike looked up at the pipe, watching as Bahirae crouched down and gripped the pipe with her hands. Pushing with her hands and feet she propelled herself across the room, over two corridors and into the expanse.

The sounds of gunfire filled the area and Mike sped up as he moved in. The room fell deadly silent within seconds, and he watched as a bare hand fell limp to the floor as he made it into the room. Bullet holes riddled one of the walls, met with a corpse slumped in the corner. “Wasn’t really much of a challenge,” Bahirae dropped the body of the final victim, his head facing the other way.

“Now now Bea, don’t get cocky,” Mike chuckled slightly.

“Tristan is down!” came the call across the comm. “The Armour has been compromised!”

The call was heard upstairs in the observation room and out of sheer panic, Ms Yimou shut the simulation down, forcing the armed soldiers and rebels into a bare room with no cover. Slightly disorientating as the room around them melted away, they scrambled to aim their weapons.

It became a literal blood bath as seven of the Omni-Pol soldiers were fired upon, their armour not designed to take such barrage from fifteen rebels. They returned fire, taking down a few, backing up into a circle to protect Tristam’s body.

One of the rebels took a sharp blow to the side of the head and slid across the floor like a ragdoll.

“Get me an ID on that soldier” General Johnson pointed down at the weapon-less individual running for the next rebel. She cut through the rebels like a hot knife through butter, avoiding the bullet barrage.

Mike was thrown back from a returned grenade, scattering the protective circle as Bahirae moved for the last rebel. He turned his gun on her and she took to the wall in the armour. Mounting it sideways she ran for the corner, repelling herself off it in a cartwheel. The bullets narrowly missed her as she turned into a somersault and clasped the rebel’s head in her feet. Having a 120-pound woman land on your shoulders forced the man to the floor, his gun slid across the room and she tightened the grip of her feet around his head. He clawed at the armour on her legs, having little effect to budge her. Twisting her hips in a deliberate and heavy motion, the room fell into silence and the body of the rebel went limp, his arms and legs falling to the ground with a thud.

“Get the squad out of here” Ellis rose to his feet, having been knocked down from grenade wave. “General, we’re going to need a medic to check Tristam, he took a shot to the stomach.”

The General moved up to the window, looking down at the group retreating out of the room, “Good work team, get that man patched up.”

Bahirae took her helmet off and huffed, punting one of the corpses.

“and Bahirae? Report to my office in one hour."

[Bahirae]

20 years ago, 29460.

“…Try a sub-dermal probe.” Green light, corpse.

“…re-initialise the nerve actuators and bring the neural processors online.”

The corpse jolted, “…careful, install a power regulator at spinal section eight.”

“six minutes left until complete neural damage, pass the nanites.”

Chapter Two: Bahirae and the Arts.

Omni-Pol HQ
Omni-Prime, 29464.

“Yimou’s research is useless.” General Johnson leant forward onto the desk, “As much as she’s an asset to Research and Development, we had to assign that armour to another team after last year’s mess up.”

“But it’s done now, isn’t it?” The silhouette turned and looked down at the ground, the mid-morning sun occluded by clouds, rain splattering the side of the Omni-Pol building, blurring the view outside. “I’m tired of dealing with that woman’s screwy ideas.”

“If it wasn’t for that mess u-“

“You wouldn’t of spotted me, I know and I’m grateful for the promotion to Squad Captain, but you’ve told me this countless times.” Bahirae turned, the blue hue from the floor lights in her office lighting her face and hair an off blue colour. “But every time she develops something new, it always has to be because of so much sacrifice. We had to out-source the Division Nine Plasma-projector to the Rubi-Kan Outpost after she left the power core charging and stripped the flesh off her lab assistant.”

“You got to admit though, reading the report on finding the steaming skeleton holding a couple of test tubes was funny.” The General grinned, reaching for the glass of orange liquid on Bahirae’s desk.

“I read that one a few months back aaaand that’s not whiskey.” There were a few moments of silence as the half full glass fell from his hand into the bin.

He patted his sides, rocked back on his feet and nodded at Bahirae, “You working on training squad four this afternoon?”

She nodded, moving across the office to the combat dummy. “Hand to hand combat and…” she clasped her hand round one of the knives in the head of the dummy and yanked it out. “Knife training.”

“Good, after we shipped echo battalion out to Rubi-Ka, we’re fourty-eight people short.” General Johnson moved round Bahirae’s desk and lowered himself down into her chair. “The recruitment drive is working, things go well, we may even b-“

“…be able to crush the rebel threat on this planet once and for all.” Bahirae flipped the knife over in her hand a couple of times, she turned to face General Johnson, continuing to flip the blade in her hand. “You ever thought about an all out assault?”

“a what?”

“you know, an all out attack on the rebels. We know where they are, their hideouts, their accomplices. We could quash the rebel threat within a night.” Bahirae made her way across the office and set the knife down on the desk.

“That’s not for us to decide Bea, I’m not sure what command want with them, but they’re not willing to take knife to vein right now.” He rose up out of her chair, coughed a few times, a sure fire sign of showing he was about to say something official. “Captain, I’ll see you at the post-training debriefing at sixteen-hundred this afternoon.”

They exchanged salutes and the General made his way out of the room in a hurry. The door shut the lighting in the room darkened somewhat as Bahirae moved from her desk. “Computer, deactivate the lights.” The room fell into darkness and Bea took a few steps closer to the desk, foot over foot, toes first, heel last.

“This isn’t working out the way we planned it Ms Seruguisu.” A harsh voice came from the corner of the room, bathed in darkness. A slight humming noise coming from the area, almost like an audio playback, except it sounded robotic almost.

“The plan has changed,” She looked down at the desk, the NV-rods in her ocular implants activating. The room sprung to life in a green light the sides of her field of vision crawling with readouts and information, statistics and distances from what she could see.
“There was only our plan, always our plan.” The voice retorted in a more serious manner,

Bahirae gingerly slid the knife across the desk and into her right hand, out of view of the man in the corner. “How’d you get in here?”

“You speak as if I wasn’t here in the first place.” He laughed and stepped into view. His footfall was followed by a sharp whistle in the air and the sound of a knife embedding in something.

Bahirae was looking down at the ground, her arm extended towards the voice and her hand open with index and middle finger pointing.

“Nice shot” came the reply, making Bahirae look up in disbelief. “Except you missed one crucial thing.”

She cocked her head slightly, looking around the man. The knife was embedded in the wall behind the man. “How’d you dod-..”

“I didn’t. The thing is, I’m not really here.” He stepped closer, “I’m in your mind, I’m here as a transmission to remind you to complete your objective and to do what you were given a second chance to do three years ago.”

“Don’t come any closer,” She scowled, glaring at the individual. “You may be some transmission or mental image, but you can’t harm me.”

“We’ll see.” The figure continued to move towards her, “Now remember, you have a class to teach.” He got within a foot of her and began to blur, in less than a foot away from her, the image shattered and a wash of colours flushed over her ocular sensors.

“What have I done…”

[Bahirae]

Southern Hemisphere, Omni-Pol Training Grounds.
Omni-Prime, 29464.

"...a little trigger happy, but a none the less effective tactic demonstrated there. Well done." Bahirae looked down at her hand-held visual unit that gave her an aerial view of the training ground. "Minimal casualties with a ninety-eight percent accuracy, an Omni-Pol standard. Good." She looked up from the VU at the soldiers still fully armoured. "Hit the showers and Captain Garin will see you tommorrow for demolitions training, dismissed." She saluted the group and watched as they moved towards the locker room.

Pacing the field for a moment, Bahirae checked it in several places before the sound of running approached her. "Captain! There's an incendiary device in the locker room!" One of the men shouted, forcing Bea to turn on her heels and close the distance between the two of them. Her strides doubled in length and she sprinted the hundred or so yards between her and the locker room in a matter of seconds. Cutting through the sharp corners of the corridors she came to a stop in the middle of the room. "Where's the bomb?" She looked around the room, a small thermal signature coming from a table in the side of the room.

"Happy Birthday to you" came a choral cheer.

"Excuse me?" she turned.

"Happy Birthday to you," it repeated

"No bomb?" She looked around slowly.

"Happy Birthday Captain Serugiusu." She winced at the stumbling and assaults in pronouncing her surname but couldn't help but smile.

"Alright, alright. Gentlemen, quiet down. Put that thing out, it's a fire hazard." she pointed at the two-candle cake. One a Two, and the other a five.

"You're meant to blow the candles out, and make a wish" Corporal Mitchell interrupted, pulling his shirt on.

"Okay, I wish you'd blow the candles out for me. Now come on, get changed and get out of here." She made her way out of the locker room and waited for what seemed like at least half an hour before the room fell silent. She walked back in, to a room empty yet stale in smell. The cake still present in the corner, the candles still lit, fallen halfway down the wick. "Damned cake," she walked over to it and sat down on the bench next to the table.

::Twenty-five, Omni-Pol Captain and I'm having a birthday cake in a locker room:: She sighed, looking over at the cake. "This won't happen next year." Cupping her hand round the candles she blew them out, a few flickers of wax dropping onto the cake itself. In one motion she slipped her hand under the cake plate and made her way across the room with it, out the door, down the hallway and dropped it into the rubbish recycler. Dusting off her hands she resumed her pace for the office area of the training grounds.

* * *

"I want them reprimanded, for misuse of protocol." She paced the office.

The Commander grinned.

"what? You find this funny?" She crossed her arms and faced him.

"Sorry Ms Serugiusu, but it was just a birthday cake. it was meant as a gesture of good will. I'm not punishing someone, least of all for a birthday cake." Commander Garrett was the officer in charge of the training complex and had been for the past five years. At fifty-four years old, the least of his worries was some uptight omni-pol officer who thought a birthday cake was a fire hazard. "Let it go, that's an order."

She huffed, "I'll see you next week," saluting, Bahirae about-faced and made her way out of the office.

* * *

Later that day.
Northern Hemisphere, Bahirae's Highrise Apartment.
Omni-Prime, 29464.

A half emptied red wine bottle sat alone on one of the kitchen worktops, the room brightly lit from the ceiling. Bahirae downed the remainder of her glass and looked across her apartment towards the window-wall. The view for a captain's apartment was spectacular, reaching out across residential quadrant eight and unto the twilight horizon. "Computer, play my schedule for tommorrow."

<<0900 hours, Tactical Briefing>>

<<1030 hours, Weapons Testing>>

<<1300 hours, Gymnasium>>

<<1400 hours, Lunch>>

<<15-"Pause schedule," she spoke up, refilling her glass. "Book me an appointment for tommorrow afternoon with my personal trainer at thirteen hundred. Request to review weights training programme." She swirled the contents of the glass and out of instinct dumped it into the sink. Grabbing the bottle she corked it, returning it to the fridge. "Computer, deactivate the lights, set alarm for 0600. I'm turning in for the night."

[Bahirae]

Northern Hemisphere, Omni-Pol Gym.
Entertainment District, Omni-Prime, 29464.

The weight fell the final inch on the guide rail and Bahirae brought her gloved hands together. "I told him, but he didn't listen." She huffed, tucking her legs under the weight bar and lifting them up infront of her.

"Birthday cake?" Donna smiled, her personal trainer at the gymnasium. "...it was a bad thing?" She asked, checking the datapad detailing Bahirae's training programme.

"It wasn't funny, it was inappropriate and unbecoming of subordinates." She finished the set on the weights and stood up from the machine. She stood taller than her personal trainer by a few inches, "What's the next set?"

"Upper back, trapezius." Donna scrolled down on the pad, entering a few details into Bahirae's record. "You've improved on that last set, I upped the weight by ten kilos, your muscular strength is improving."

Bahirae smiled, "You add any more weights, you're going to have to get another machine." Her joke prompted a raised eyebrow and a nod from Donna. Donna guided the bar into Bahirae's hands, running her through the motions to lift it up just infront of her face so her elbows went out at the sides by her ears.

"Happy with the motion of that?" Donna asked, stepping back and reading the weight indicator on the pad. Bahirae nodded, "Setting weight to your usual; one hundred and seventy five kilos." The dimension density crushing storge devices in either end of the bar whirred to life, the metallic bar, weighing in at no more than five kilos suddenly became the perfect weight for Bahirae.

Bahirae winced on the first few pulls, "You've up the weight on this one too."

Donna shrugged, a slight smile blessing her face. "What makes you think that? Maybe you're just getting out of shape?"

"Add another twenty" Bahirae retorted, insistent that she wouldn't be mocked.

"That's my girl," Donna grinned, adding the new weight and updating the bar. "Eight reps or ten?"

"Ten sets of ten." Bahirae replied, finishing the second set. She started the third set a little early, pushing herself with a smaller break inbetween each.

"This isn't a race." Donna looked up from the pad, "Take your time, we've got a few hours of training time left yet."

"I just wanted to cut down on my break time, that's all. Besides, the less breaks, the more we can fit in." Bahirae smiled.

"Alright, but as long as you collapse in your apartment, not here on the gym floor."

Bahirae stopped in the middle of the third set. Someone over the other side of the gym drew her attention, "I know that laugh," She said, continuing the set unconsciously but still, her attention drawn to the other side of the room.

"The man in the white tracksuit?" Donna asked, she too turning her gaze. Her question got a nod from Bahirae and in turn she pulled the membership file on the man based on who'd recently scanned themselves into the gym.

"New member; Michael Smith. Looks like he's one of the Constanople's crew." Donna flipped the pad over and swatted it against her other hand. "You even listening to me?" She asked, Bahirae seemingly spaced out.

"I am," she replied, a few seconds delay, "I'm just listening in to their conversation." Bahirae started the fifth set, raising the bar with a huff.

"It's rude to do that you know, they could be talking about something classified."

"No actually, he's talking about a really nice blonde haired woman he met here,"

Donna blushed, "Really? tell me more."

"No, it's rude to listen in to other people's conversations" Bahirae grinned.

Donna glared at Bahirae for a moment, "Upping the weight by another fifty kilos." She gritted her teeth.

"Two hundred and fourty five?" Bahirae asked, her knuckles whitening around the bar. "Sounds like such an...odd number."

"Come on Bea, another five sets to go and you're there," Donna watched her finish the fifth. Donna in the mean time turned her attention to the white tracksuited individual coming her way. "He's coming this way..."

Bahirae looked over her shoulder and froze. "Alex..." She whispered, the face was undefinably his however the hair folicles on his head had been greatly stimulated; he now sported shoulder length brown hair with a smattering of blonde highlights. He'd lost a significant amount of weight, but instead of looking ill he sported a tan that looked much like that of a southern hemispherian. "Morning Ladies" he said, a strong southern accent breaking through and bringing a smile to Donna's face as he walked on by. Once again, reform had managed to change a man completely, preventing relapses by erasing all that he was from his memory.

"He's hot," She pressed her pad to the side of her face and grinned to Bahirae. "I think his first personal trainer should be.....me." Donna keyed the recommendation into the pad.

"Could of sworn I knew that man," Bahirae continued into the seventh set, her technique starting to go astray,

"Come on Bea, tighten up those arm muscles, you're slacking on your right side." Donna checked Bahirae's arms, "Focus on bringing the weight up to your nose level. See if we can't get a little bit more muscle range."

"The Constanople, that's the one at Omni Four's shipyards?" Bahirae asked, looking over at her personal trainer.

"Yep, Omni-Tek flagship, Admiral Cookson's ship. What a beast it is." Donna said, remembering her trip up to the Omni-Four planet shipyards just three planets over from Omni-Prime.

"Thousand Metres long wasn't it, or something crazy like that?"

"One thousand eight hundred and seventy metres long, dual hyperdrive, nanomesh metaplast armour, ablative hull plating, quad battery laser cannons, fifty six torpedo launch-"

Bahirae interrupted her, "wow, you're like a talking catalogue with that thing, lemme guess; you've been on the ship?"

"Yep, I was on assignment at the time, crew were on R and R for a little too long and got sloppy, had to work my ass off to get them back to shape, but it's amazing. You should go up there while it's still there."

"I might at that,"

[Bahirae]

100,200 kilometres from Omni-Prime.
Primus System, 29464.

The single red giant of the Primus system glowed with fierce intent, solar flares stretching off it at regular intervals. The nearest planet to it; Omni-Prime was by far the hottest, especially on the southern hemisphere. Omni-Prime rotated on an axis tipped with the south in favour of the sun, the northern hemisphere saw a minimal amount of sunlight, even in the middle of the day. The uppermost reaches of the northern hemisphere were pretty much constantly under the cover of darkness; the favourite location for the rebels to hide where as the southern most part of Omni-Prime saw only four hours of twilighty darkness everyday. The seven other planets of the Primus weren't spectacularly named; Omni-Two to Omni-Eight. Each getting subsequently colder as you distanced yourself from the sun.

Primus planets two to four were dedicated to ship production, each sporting either a ground based production facility or a drydock in space. Omni-Four was the most popular of the lot, it held the largest drydock and refueling facility in the whole of Omni-Tek territory, large enough for four Constanoples to dock with, if four ever existed.

The remaining planets, Omni-Five to Eight had been altered in their orbits by Omni-Engineering in a Graviton Energy experiment. They ran a perfect square around the inner planets, creating four defensive points before the inner planetary reach. Their orbits had been greatly accellerated to ensure maximum defense, to the point that the outer most planet; Omni-Eight did a full system lap in under 24 hours. Tapping into each planet's core, they utilized a powerful array of Plasma Cannons, Ion batteries and torpedo launchers surface side, so much so that when one activated it came to life like a star going supernova; lighting the sky as far as Omni-Prime with a continuous stream of energy beams, blasts and torpedo flares. The planets' upgrades were only ten years in the making, a massive step up to ensure that the Corporation Wars, should anything of that magnitude happen again, wouldn't threaten the core planet of Omni-Tek.

"Computer, lock co-ordinates on the Omni-Four shipyards and lay in a docking course. Secondary platform, tertiary airlock." Bahirae pushed her chair back away from the console to get a full look at the view out of the window. The sun beamed into the shuttle from the right side, draining the colour to all but a red hue. The shuttle veered off to the left, putting the sun behind her and in turn connecting with the airlock's magnetic constrictors.

"Omni-Prime Shuttle Six, standby for Security scan." Came the voice over the intercom as the dampening field was activated around the shuttle. It was merely a precautionary measure, designed to stop people bringing in any devices that shouldn't be allowed. "Okay, Scans are complete, you may exit the shuttle."

Bahirae stepped off, a small satchel in hand and looking up and down the corridor. A rather stocky man made broke into an awkward sprint towards Bahirae from the end of the corridor. "Miss!" He shouted. "Miss!" She turned to face him, watching as he slowed to a walking pace, catching his breath. He got to within reasonable talking distance and dropped his chest, putting his hands on his knees and taking a moment.

"Ms Bayhee." He managed, rising back up. "Please follow me, the captain wants to see you on the command deck." She bit her tongue on the mispronounciation. The two continued down the corridor and through another airlock, onto a much larger ship, possibly the Constanople.

"It's Ba-hear-aye," She blurted, matching pace with the man as they moved down the corridor. "Lovely" he replied in a rather uninterested tone, "and you are? Aside from incredibly overweight?" Bahirae retored.

"Lieutenant Michael Jenson, and I'd watch your tone if I were you, I outrank you." He punched his access code into the console and watched the door ahead of them open. "You don't outrank me, comparing a naval rank to that of the police force is like comparing chalk to cheese." She smiled.

The door opened to a whirl of blue lights and flashes, a brief glipse of what looked like an array of consoles and people on the other side. "You have whompahs inside the ship?!" She looked at the lieutenant. "Yes, it'd take hours to move from one side of the ship to the other, so we had a whompah system installed inside." She whistled with an impressed tone and watched as Jenson stepped into the digitalisation stream. His body was pulled apart on a molecular level, as if turning to ash. It fed into the center of the whompah in a whirlwind like motion, Bahirae followed suit and found herself on the command deck of the Constanople. "Aaah, Ms Serugiusu" Admiral Cookson looked round at the two new entrants to the deck. "Commander, arrange this woman some quarters, in the mean time, lets see about getting you a tour."

* * *

Admiral Cookson and Bahirae entered a room that was majorly occupied by a huge cylindical object that seemed to stretch for miles. The room was barely lit, perhaps to conserve power for lighting a barely occupied room. Bahirae's occular implants sprung to life, zooming in on the other end of the cannon. "There is actually no-one in here, What is this?"

Cookson tapped his wrist-comm and spoke into it. "Commander, warn the station we're going to be testing the ion cannon."

"Ion Cannon?" Bahirae locked eyes with the Admiral. "You're kidding me. How can you have the power to run that sort of thing?"

"The Constanople was built around the cannon." Admiral Cookson smiled, "She's a monument to our success in the corporate wars. We'll make sure those Sol Banking Bas-"

"-Admiral, The Shipyards have confirmed they're okay with us priming the cannon."

"Excellent, prime the cannon." Admiral turned, looking over Bahirae's shoulder down the end of the ship. He pointed. "Watch"

She turned and watched as the dimmly lit room sprung to life, a wave of white light coming out of the clear panels on the cannon itself. The room filled with a brilliant white light, blinding them so much that they had to look away from the cannon. "Okay, Commander that's enough, cut power to the cannon." Cookson turned back to watch the cannon power down and the room return to mediocre darkness once more.

"So, where's she headed?" Bahirae asked, heading out of the cannon room.

"We're here for the next two years for a tech refit, after that I'm not sure." Admiral Cookson followed suit as they returned to the command deck. "Lets head back up to the command deck and get you briefed on our bridge operations."

[Bahirae]

Omni-Entertainment District 1,
Omni-Prime, 29464.

It was a cold December night on Omni-Prime, not cold enough to snow, but cold enough to allow Donna to see the steaming breath leave her mouth and that of those around her. "Dammit, how long is this queue?" Alicia asked, nudging Donna with her shoulder. "Damned if I know" came the reply. The queue infact was held to the wall by a grey rope that stretched from the door to the corner of the building, holding near fifty people waiting. Waiting under the temptation of hearing the music within and impatiently wanting some to leave so that they could in turn, enter.

The music switched to something more intense in terms of base. "Oh arse, they're playing my song!" Alicia hopped from one heel to the other, clipping and clopping on the permacrete pavement. "C'mon, we're gunna miss the entire night already." She commented, looking up into the sky. The cloudless night made it even colder, the stars beaming down like blocks of ice and the two moons seemed to be set atop the building opposite, wide and glaring down at the people below. There was the sound of commotion at the back of the line, "hey, quit pushing in!" came the reply, "wait your turn," the voices got progressively nearer. Though the background to Alicia and Donna was probably the two ugliest men you ever did see, this was soon split and replaced with a woman in a flowing black dress that seemed to curve, wrap and hug her figure. At first she wasn't recognised with her hair down and makeup on, but the cold voice broke through in utter certainty. "I lost a bet, okay." Bahirae scorned.

Donna smiled, "You look good, it's nice to see you in a dress fo-....are those boots?" Bahirae looked down, lifting up the skirt slightly, "Course they are, you expect me to run in high heels? I don't even own a pair of high heels anymore."

"But Bea, those are combat boots, that's an open invitation to be kicked in the nads." Donna replied, enthusiastically grabbing Bahirae's chest.

"Hey! Do you mind?" Bahirae asked, glaring at what she was doing to the top part of her dress and in turn her boobs.

"There," Donna let go, "Now no-one'll focus on your boots."

Bahirae looked down, and then looked up, down again, and up again. "You can tighten these things." She said, poking the bra. "I already knew no man over a foot tall would ever lay eyes on the boots but still..."

Alicia looked for a moment, "Christ Bea, you could put your purse in that."

Bahirae smiled with a taint of sarcasm on her face. "Fu-"

"-Party of three! Front of the line!" Came the interrupting call from the bouncer at the front. "HERE!" Shouted Bahirae, wobbling top heavy all the way to the front. They pushed through about twenty people, before reaching the front. The bouncer took a simple look over the three and nodded. "In you go" he said.

They made their way through a long archway of flashing red and blue lights, while it added to the clubs feel, this was infact a far more purposeful device, scanning for weaponry, contraband and any other unwanted material. While yes the materials would be confiscated from the individuals, they were never turned over to the authorities, but were infact provided to the Club's owner as a form of payment. This allowed them to keep the club so cheap in prices; Omni-Pol and Omni-Reform each turned a blind eye to this, keeping the streets empty.

"What'll it be ladies?" The bartender spoke up as they approached the bar. Alicia stepped forward, taking charge. "I'll have a Passionfruit Daiquiri," she turned and looked at Donna and Bahirae. "Ummm...A beer?" Came Donna's guess. "I'll just have a glass of water," Alicia turned back and grinned. "Make that, one Passion fruit Daiquiri, One Green Apple Martini and a Southside, shaken."

"Okay, so there goes my hope of not drinking tonight," Bahirae replied, crossing her arms. "Live a little woman, besides, you're already being checked out." Alicia replied, looking slightly to her right.

"Yes, I saw him on the way in, he keeps staring at me much longer I might arres-" Bahirae was nudged by Donna, her Omni-Pol career still a confidential matter to some. "-Arrange for a short sharp meeting with my boot." She recovered.

"You know, for a school teacher, you can be such a b-yatch sometimes." Alicia handed over the drinks to the two, the martini to Donna and the Southside to Bahirae. They took reluctant sips, with Bahirae screwing her face up like a piece of paper. "Urgh, what is in this thing?"

"Southern Comfort, Amaretto liqueur with Bombay sapphire gin and fresh orange juice." Alicia whittled the ingredients off the menu before popping it back down on the bar and in due course, paying for the drinks.

"It's awful...but strangely, I like it."

Donna stabbed at the olive in her martini before it slipped from the glass and landed on the floor. She shrugged and looked around the room, "Oooh, he fiiiine." She grinned, looking over at the apparently lonesome guy on one of the raised seating areas.

"He marriiiiied." Bahirae grinned; her ocular implants filtering through the distorted coloured light and strobes, locking on the wedding band on his finger.

Donna huffed, "It's true, men are like parking spaces. They're all either taken, or broken." She kept scanning the room, leaning on the bar.

"Bea, he's coming over...." Alicia turned, and looked away as the man approached.

"Umm....excuse me, I don't usually do this." The man asked,

"So, don't then." Bahirae shrugged, and turned away, sipping on her drink.

He put his hand on her shoulder, "All I wanted to ask you was a question."

"then ask," She coldly replied.

"Umm. Are those real?" His question threw the area into a deathly silence, Alicia and Donna turned in shock as Bahirae's open palm connected with the guys nose. He flew from his feet and landed on his back on the floor.

He clasped his nose and struggled to slide back to his feet. "I meant the boots you crazy woman!" He turned and promptly left. Bahirae's act went un-noticed by the bouncers and she returned to her drink. "You really take playing hard to get to a whole new level don't you?" Donna laughed, downing the martini.

The music changed once again to something more danceable than the previous epileptic fit of a dance track and a rather tall dark haired man soon approached Alicia. "Do you dance?" He asked, leaning onto the bar slightly. "Do I ev-well...maybe....sometimes." She changed her tune to a little bit more challenging, but soon took his hand and moved away, leaving Donna and Bahirae at the bar.

"This is going to be a fun evening," Donna replied, looking around and gently scratching her abdomen. "So Bea, any men you've spo-" Donna looked around, Bahirae had gone. "Bea?" she sighed, and moved away from the bar, on the prowl.

"Are you in the mood to dance?" Bahirae asked, putting her hands on the shoulders of a man sitting in the corner amongst other men. "I'm a little tied up right now," His cold reply came as he tucked a small package back into his blazer. "Aww, you wouldn't want to disappoint me now would you?" She smiled slightly, leaning forward. Within a few seconds he was up, and on his feet, "To the floor" she smiled, taking his hand.

As the track slowed, the two moved closer, she gently would run a hand down him on occasion, and bat away any that he attempted to place on her. They got closer and closer and he leant in uncomfortably. She shook her head, placing a hand on the back of his shoulders and running them down his back before moving around him and dancing behind. "You want one?" He asked, poking out his tongue with two pills on it. She kept her hand on his midriff and moved round to the front, "What are they?" She asked, dropping to a crouch, running her hands down his legs and then rising to standing once more. "Stim pills, they'll keep you dancing all night long." Bahirae invited his hands into hers; she stretched them out fully as she moved away, before moving back in and drawing them over his head and behind him. In one fell movement she kicked his knees out and from under her dress drew cuffs and slapped them onto his wrists. "Matthew Munroe, I'm arresting you for the possession of contraband in an Omni-Pol regulated club, you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in an Omni-Pol court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." She tugged hard on the cuffs, pulling him back up to his feet and speaking into her wrist, the comm unit cunningly disguised by a set of bangles. "Command, we have Munroe, I'm bringing him out via the back."

To Be Continued...

[Bahirae]

Omni-Prime, 29460.

"...can't hold the door..." Came the booming voice, a shadowy figure jamming a table up against the door

"...away from the windows..." a similar, lighter voice shouted, grasping me and pulling me away from the small crowd outside.

Whitelight, darkness. Silence.

Chapter Three: Strangers in the Night

Corridor Alpha, Floor six, Apartment Complex 213
Omni-Trans District One,
Omni-Prime, 29466.

The Omni-Pol Drop ships switched to silent engines outside, they circled like vultures, casting little to no shadow in the moonlight. Anti-grav beams activated out of the wings of the drop ships, down the ten storey drop to the ground. The soldiers stepped off the ship and moved slowly towards the ground, it was almost like a ballet. If ballets involved guns, explosives and police.

Running a scanner over the apartment complex entrance, the general access door swung open and the squadrons moved in. "Upstairs, sixth floor" Came the order over the comm.

"Bravo Squad confirm ready," Squad Commander Truman spoke into his comm unit, there was a reply confirmation in the form of a deeper voice. The corridor was badly lit, the flickering lights were sparse and occasional, most having been smashed, removed or shot out.

"Sir, we have a problem." Came a voice from Lieutenant Messing adjacent to the commander. "Our standard explosives won't blow the door, we need something a little heavier." The commander sighed, "Alright, I'll radio the explosives unit. All units, hold position."

A group of armoured officers moved down the corridor. "Sir, Echo Squad, reporting in."

"Echo Squad?" Truman looked at his Lieutenant, "They're the elite contingent from the Southern HQ."

Commander Truman rose up off his knees and made what he thought was eye contact with the fully armoured officers. "Do you three have anything that could clear a door better than our standard explosives?" He asked, looking at the two armed with guns and the single unarmed one in front. The unarmed one nodded, "Where?"

"Apartment Sixty One, just round the corner." He pointed down the corridor and checked his comm for motion traffic.

The trio made their way down the corridor and surrounded the door, the unarmed one put their eye up to the spy hole and looked inward, "two people, one over on the far left of the apartment, and one...the other side of the door." the officer spoke into their comm.

"I'm reading a weapon inside, caution advised." Squad Commander Truman replied with haste.

The spy hole went dark and then a flash of light filled the corridor as a gun went off the other side of the door. *Plink* as the bullet deflected off the helmet and into the ceiling of the corridor. The officer stumbled back a step before lifting their foot up and connecting it with the door.

The outside of the building was rather tranquil, the permacrete wall on the sixth floor had only minor windows, no balconies, just a sheer drop all the way from the tenth to the ground floor. Suddenly, the wall burst open, a cloud of dust reaching out across the alleyway, the cloud contorted as a body flew out, followed closely by a metal door. The body plummeted the entire way to the ground, the noise of the wall bursting open silenced only by the metal door landing on the body and spraying the alleyway walls and floor with a crimson regret.

The accomplice made a dash for the bedroom; the unarmed officer unclipped their helmet and over arm launching it at the escaping felon. It impacted with a cracking noise, knocking him over the table, the sofa and becoming what one might regard as intimate with a wall.

The officer shook her hair out, and checked the area over. "Felon's neutralised, area is secure."

"Bea, we wanted them apprehended, not dead." Squad Commander Truman moved into the apartment, "Get that slumped mess in the corner to Omni-Med, there's a minor pulse. As for the other one, where's he go?"

Lieutenant Messing looked out the gaping hole in the wall, "The other is...sorta...puréed"

"and how did you blow that door so far through the apartment without using explosives?" Truman asked, "Wait, wait. I know you can't answer that."

Bahirae nodded, "Squad, lets move out." She turned to the other two gun-toting officers. "Commander, please submit your debriefing to us via comm frequency two one seven four using encryption code six."

[Bahirae]

Omni-Pol HQ, Southern Hemisphere.
Omni-Prime, 29466

The rope went slack and the restrained individual plunged waist deep into the freezing water. "No answer to that?" Bahirae asked, pulling on the rope once more as the man spluttered and coughed as he came out of the water. He shook his head and she let the rope go once more. She left him underwater for a bit, moving across the room to the power junction. Running her fingers across the selection of cables she grabbed the warmest one, giving it a firm tug it sheered from the wall and the lights above failed, the only source of light in the room was the shower of sparks coming from the cable she wielded with malicious intent.

Moving back towards the barrel the man started to slow in his squirming. Pulling him out of the water, she swapped his place in the bath with the electrified cable. The water warmed, steam rising off it and blue arcs rippling across the surface. "So, I ask you again, what were you doing with all that contraband?" She let the rope slip, but caught the man less than an inch from the water. He shook his head. "Do you realise what's in this water? Several hundred volts of electricity, it'd fry you to a crispy shred of a man in less than a minute, so I'll ask you one last time, what were you doing with all that contraband?"

"Rebels!" He blurted, taking his first full breath though his mouth, his nose was somewhat blue from the cold water and as a result, each breath he took through it was painful. "We were supplying the rebels with the cache. They'd put in a big order."

"Where was that order going?" She asked, pulling him up slightly.

"Go to hell" He said, before he had a chance to take a breath she let the rope and the electric cable go. He hit the water and flailed about like a fish without. Giving him a few seconds, she parted the man and the water. He too was now steaming, his left arm twitching from the residual electric discharge.

"It can get worse, infact, much more and I don't think you'll last." She ran the cable up and down the side of the bath rim, sparks spraying off in different directions. "So, once more, and for the last time before I dunk you in completely. Where?"

"We weren't given a meeting point." The rope slipped, "Wait...wait! But, they said for us to drop them off at a specific location, and leave them there." Bahirae stepped on the rope and pulled the man closer to her by his hair. "Details?"

"Trans district six, the...the corner of fourth and fifth apartment blocks. They wanted us to use a hologram to disguise it as a bench. That's all I knew."

"When?"

"Sunrise at the end of the week." He replied. Bahirae let go of him to check her watch and he swung away, as he swung back, he tried to pivot his head to headbutt her in the stomach, she let him, and subsequently stepped back off the rope. He plunged quickly, hitting his head on the side of the barrel and falling into the water.

"Thanks," She replied. dropping the cable on the floor and heading for the door. "Oh, and one last thing, end simulation." Bahirae grinned, watching as the barrel faded away and the man fell from a foot up in the air to the ground, Bahirae was passed by a series of Omni-Med individuals who checked the man's vitals and dragged him away to a secure cell.

* * *

"So, that's the way they want it." Bahirae leant onto the briefing table, looking at the other senior Omni-Pol officers. "Weapons and Stims Cache,"

"I think we should swap them for high yield explosives, detonation upon opening." Captain Brannigan suggested.

Eliza Mave, The head of Omni-Pol's demolition division shook her head. "Good idea, but if a normal citizen opens it by mistake, it'll take out both the apartment complexes."

"What about a placement?" Eliza suggested in compromise,

Brannigan was joined by a few other displeased looks, "We lost four agents the last time we tried one of those, they don't work. With all eyes on the box, they're ready to expect a surprise within. The last person that we put in a box was sent back to us in five."

"They'll scan the box for biosigns, yes and scan for electronic equipment, but at the same time we can't let this just go. We can't hand over weapons to the rebels." Eliza tapped her fingers impatiently on the table.

"What about a Lotus Blossom?" Bahirae shunted her empty water glass down the table towards the jug in the centre, she'd finished with it at least for now.

Brannigan laughed, "Ninehundred year old barbaric rebel weapon? It won't work."

Eliza raised and eyebrow in her late twenties she'd risen fast through the ranks, but as little versed in ancient Omni-Tek/Rebel conflicts. "A flower?"

Bahirae smiled, "A mechanical flower." She cupped her hands together, interlocking her fingers. "At first, it looks like an ordinary sphere, it rises up, and within a split second, the metal sphere falls off and crystal shards extend out, like rotary blades and make mincemeat out of anyone within five metres of the box. The blades spinning break what they called a 'pollen cartridge' in the centre of the sphere, which is actually a crude nailbomb affixed with hundreds of microsprings, no explosives just kinetic energy. When the blades stop, the blood on the weapon falls into channels down the crystal shards, staining them red, making the petals of a lotus blossom. No biological, or electronic components, ancient weaponry that both parties think we're beyond."

"What happened to lest we forget?" Eliza rest her head in her hands and looked up the table.

"Alright," Brannigan nodded, "Get down to the archives, if you can't find one of these flower weapons, make one.

[Bahirae]

Bahirae's office.
Omni-Pol HQ, Southern Hemisphere.
Omni-Prime, 29466

The office was low-lit, as per norm with the info screens on the side walls of the office doing more in the way of illumination than the actual lights. Bahirae, sat at her desk was leaning forward, engaging in conversation with a man. He was small framed, no more than five foot five but still had muscular definition on his arms, wearing pretty much all black, his look was quite kept and minimalist, that was until it came to the subject of his hair. Defying both gravity and description it was almost like he'd been electrocuted and then set it in place. Sierra Watson, Omni-Prime's famed fencing champion for the entire sector. When he wasn't facing off competition, he was working for Omni-Pol, training soldiers in the use of melee weapons.

"I'm better than you let on." Bahirae smiled, cupping her hands together. Sierra shook his head, his hair swaying slightly with the motion, tapping the black cane he held against his heel.

Bahirae grinned, standing up. "How many people fell for that as a walking stick on the way in?"

"Fourteen people, including five security guards." Sierra lifted it and checked up and down the cane, "So much for Omni-Pol's thorough procedures."

"I'll have it added to Omni-Pol's agenda to rid old men of their ability to walk."

"I'm not old. I'm twenty-one." Sierra rose to his feet and paced over to one of the info screens. "and besides, it's fun having people believe you're something you're not. Isn't it Bea?"

She simply nodded, "We both do what we must."

"Anyone suspected you yet?" Sierra tapped his cane against one of the screens, it didn't respond to the non-biological touch.

"A few, but they're not alive anymore."

"Lovely, take pleasure in your brutality?"

"A little," Bahirae picked up a few pens and sat them in-between her fingers, they reached out an inch further than her fingers.

"How about putting your brutality against real technique for once?" Sierra asked, before he was even able to finish, she launched the three pens in his direction, assuming a standard pose she kept her head down and her arm extended.

The pens made no noise in motion, and seconds later, made no noise on impact. Infact, there was far too little noise. She was tapped on the shoulder. "Your pens," Sierra spoke from behind, dropping them onto the desk. Bahirae huffed, returning to an upright position and turning to face Sierra.

"Your problem is Bahirae, you focus too much on flouncing your moves, adding flourishes when you should be checking your kill." Sierra prodded her stomach with his cane. "Use what's in here, not what's available outside."

"Go with what feels right. I know," Bahirae moved over to the right hand drawers on her desk. "You've been telling me since day one,"

"and yet you fail to listen every time."

Bahirae tugged the drawer out and slapped the underside. Two small daggers jumped out of the drawer and into the air. She clasped them in mid air and lunged for Sierra.

Grasping the cane at midpoint, he spun it on the palm of his hand and blocked the daggers perfectly. "Always with the violence, come on, technique, not brutality." Sierra smiled.

He swung the cane round and stopped an inch from Bahirae's head. "Pay attention, or you will find your end."

She swung for his face and midriff simultaneously with the daggers, he threw himself into a sideways flip to avoid them and stopped upside down. Bahirae cocked her head slightly to the left and looked upward. Sierra's feet firmly planted on the ceiling, now level with Bahirae, only upside down. "How do you?" She asked, confused.

"Just because it's there, doesn't mean you have to obey it." She angrily swung out with a fist, in an almost instinctive move, Sierra arched over backwards, planting his hands on the ceiling and delivering a kick to the top of Bahirae's head, knocking her to the floor. He somersaulted to the ground and turned, "You focus too much on the brutality of your methods rather than the beauty of your ability."

She rose up, jumping back over her chair and drop kicking it towards Sierra. The speed at which it moved tore the paper off the desk and tossed it in all directions. It stopped in midair like a car hitting a permacrete wall, a small glint coming from the middle of the backrest. Sierra stood on the other side, his arm extended, sword unsheathed from the cane and the chair firmly impaled on the sword. He flicked it out to the left, the chair sliding off, landing on it's wheels and spinning to the corner of the room.

Bahirae ran forth, rising into a flying kick. Sierra stepped aside and completed two full spins before slapping Bahirae square in the chest with the side of his sword. She fell out of her forward motion and landed against the windows of her office. She rose one foot up the window and launched herself towards Sierra once more, both fists extended. He dropped onto his back and pushed his feet skywards, kicking her into the ceiling, she busted through the bulkheads and the room fell silent. Sierra spun his legs in a scissor like motion, rising up onto his hands and in turn, to his feet. He looked around the ceiling bulkheads, seeing no motion and hearing a minimal amount of noise. He moved for the other side of the room, towards the chair.

In a matter of seconds, Bahirae burst through the ceiling, only to be met by the chair, her legs taken out by the speed of it she landed face first on the floor. Sierra recoiled his leg, grinning from the other side of the room. "Quit trying the fancy moves and go for the kill."

Bahirae paced in a circular motion round to her desk as Sierra did the same, she stopped at the desk once more. Sierra flipped his sword into a forehand stance and planted it on his shoulder. "Give up?" He asked as she dropped the daggers.

He shook his head, "If you're thinking what I'm thinking, don't bother."

Bitter from defeat, in no more than a split second, she reached into her desk and pulled out a machine pistol, aiming at Sierra and offloading the contents. The twenty-four bullets, in close formation moved across the office at tremendous speed, for the first time, Sierra grasped the sword with two hands and began a circular motion, the sword moving at such speed that it created an array of light, a rainbow in it's wake, and a searing beam of light from it's origin. The room filled with the sounds of metal against metal and in turn, metal against wood, carpet and glass. Twenty-three of the bullets were deflected into the room around them and in a sharp final move Sierra reflected the twenty-fourth in a dual motion. Bahirae's eyes widened as the bullet landed in her gun arm, the pistol falling to the floor. The sword steamed, glowing an off yellow from the heat of the bullets.

"The rule about those living by the sword, getting shot by those who don't. Doesn't exist for you and I." Sierra resheathed his sword, watching as Bahirae gripped her wounded arm. "Stop trying to overcome your foes with as much force in a small amount of time. Nature overcomes it's barriers over time, continuous force in an constant motion. Oh, and next time you use a gun on me, I'll put all the bullets in you."

[Bahirae]

Tactical Ops Room.
Omni-Pol HQ, Southern Hemisphere.
Omni-Prime, 29466.

Captain Jack Brannigan leant forward over the observation table, calling up the scope view on the squadron leaders. "Alpha Squadron, confirm they've received the package."

There were a few moments silent before a lieutenant spoke up "Confirmed Captain, The device is in place. They're gathering round it in a moment."

"All teams, activate audio enhancer beacons. Confirm conversation indoors." the Captain spoke up.

Meanwhile, the inside of the warehouse was darkened, singular lights throughout the lower floor. A small contingent of people gathering around the package near the rear cargo access. "Scan for electronic and biological signatures"

A shorter man approached the box, running a hand held device across it. While it failed to beep at the sign of any electronic or biological signatures, it did pulse with a singular green approval light. "It's clear" came the reply, placing his hand on the lock.

"Wait!" a man on the upper runway spoke up, black-clad and wearing a relatively padded trench coat. His British accent was thick, drawing the attention of the men below. "We're being watched" he added.

"Captain" Squad leader Alpha spoke into his comm unit "We've been detected."

Brannigan sighed, calling up the thermal signatures from inside the complex, "They've got to open it."

The shorter man panicked, his hand already on the lock. "Arm yourselves!" he shouted, unclipping the lock and tossing the lid off the box.

The men around it reached in, but were met by a rising metal ball. It was like a flash of light and a gust of wind hit the warehouse, drawing everything to a deathly silence as the bloody truth emerged. The crystal blades on the lotus blossom came to a halt, the men around it wide eyed and unflinching. Like the arrival of spring, the blades burst with a ripe red colour as blood filled the channels within. The looks on the men's faces held, followed by a few clicks from the blossom.

Their bodies shattered into pre-sliced chunks when the spring-propelled nail bomb exploded. The warehouse switch to nothing short of a slaughterhouse as body after body was nailed to the walls, pillars, floors and doors. The man on the balcony leapt from it to the floor below in an attempt to avoid the oncoming nail barrage.

Bahirae paced the roof, impatiently peering through the skylight on occaision, "Captain?"

"Yes Bahirae?"

"Was anyone ordered to move in?" She asked, the clear sky moonlight casting a shadow behind her as she looked down into the warehouse.

"No, why you see someone?"

"Someone, yes. They avoided the nail bomb"

"How is that possible?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm taking him out" Bahirae responded, reaching down and busting the skylight lock with her bare hand. She carefully opened the skylight window, so as not to alarm the solitary remaining rebel on the ground below. She stretched her legs out beneath, sitting on the ledge. Judging the distance she pushed herself off and fell downward.

In transit, she turned, raising a fist up into the air. Upon ground contact she brought the fist down hard and fast, smashing it into the ground. The force brought all the dust, all the dirt and a significant amount of blood up off the ground and skyward. The building shook, panes of glass shattering and lights failing. The solitary rebel fell to his knees and stopped himself from going face-first with a single hand. "It's you isn't it?" He chuckled.

"Well, yes." She replied, wondering how ominous the term 'you' actually was. After all, she could be anyone.

"I will fight you" He replied valiantly, pushing himself back onto one foot and a knee.

"I know, I'll make it quick" She smiled, as if showing some sort of compassion and pulled a knife from her belt.

"Let's end this" He rose up on his feet and turned, obviously injured from the fall.

Lunging, she went for him with the knife and in a split-second he grabbed her arm, evading the knife and continuing her forward motion so that she moved for steps behind him. In this motion he spun with fluid-like grace and in so doing, pulled a device from within his trench coat and aimed it at the back of Bahirae's neck. She came to a halt and began to turn, but was struck in the back of the neck by two prongs.

She shuddered and convulsed, dropping to the floor.

"Jolly good show, Bahirae" He said, upping the voltage to a fatal dose.

Brannigan watched in shock as Bahirae's life signs stopped. He took a moment to react due to the sheer inexperience of seeing her injured let alone dead. "Officer down, all units move in. Med-evac team to Bahirae's last known location."

"Bahirae?" Came the Med-evac team reply,

"Don't bloody question, just get in there!"

[Bahirae]

Omni-Med
Omni-Prime, 29466

"...thirty thousand volts to the cerebral cortex, she’s suffered massive neural failure" Doctor Vasimov Leilia replied.

"Is there anything you can do?" Brannigan demanded, folding his arms. It hadn't been long between the accident and the arrival and diagnosis here, so he was hoping there'd at least be some way to fix it.

"Her lymphatic and nervous systems have shut down from the electric shock. She's brain-dead, We've got her on life support to keep her breathing as per your request."

"I want her transferred to the Medical Bay in Omni-Pol's HQ" Brannigan replied, turning away to stare at a blank wall.

"That's not possible at this time, you know that Captain, she's too fragile." Vasimov pulled out his data pad and keyed a few readings into it.

"Doctor," Brannigan turned and locked eyes with the man. "Either you move her, or you'll find yourself in one of those beds."

"Look," Vasimov slipped the pad back into his pocket and clasped his hands together. "I don't give a care about your threats but right now, because of the delay that you too in getting here, she won't make it home. Can you deal with that?"

"You're underestimating the worth of this woman."

"No, I'm not. One, she's dead. Then two, I'm surprised she's not dead already with what you've done to her." He pulled up an x-ray on the screen behind Bahirae's head and pointed to the various unknowns within her. "I have a right to report you to the medical commission."

"Doctor," Brannigan smiled, reaching out an arm. "Come here," the doctor approached and Brannigan pulled him in under his arm in a friendly gesture, they once again locked eyes, being only inches apart. "Well, what is it?" Vasimov asked.

Brannigan jammed something into the doctor's chest, while he snapped away in shock at it he could see whatever was in it had already been emptied into him.

"What have you done?!" The doctor stumbled backwards, falling over the bed and landing on his arm. He looked up in shock as Brannigan moved to his side. He slowly felt the left hand side of him go numb and struggled to breathe.

"Doctor, you're having a heart attack, you need to calm down." The captain kept a stern face over the dying doctor, repocketing the empty syringe. He watched for a moment as Leilia's eyes rolled back into his head, confirming the kill by checking the now pulse-less body. Taking a moment, he reached into the doctor's pocket and pulled out the still active data pad. "okay..." "Transfer request...patient..." he checked Bahirae's bed readout. "Two two one, Five one Four" he said as he entered the numbers into the pad. "Transfer to...Omni-Pol HQ. Accept." He crouched down and slid the pad back into the corpse's jacket before moving to the wall comm system.

"Doctor Down in Room Eight, I repeat, Medical Emergency, Doctor down in room eight." Straightening his jacket, he made his way out of the room and down the corridor, passed by no-one except a few nurses and a crash cart.

He smiled slightly, "It's such a fickle thing, life."

To Be Continued...

[Bahirae]

Omni-Prime, 20 years ago.

The room filled with smoke, can't see. Can't move. Something on my chest.

"...one's still alive..."

"...you know what to do..."

*THUD* Sleep.


Chapter Four: A long and arduous journey

Omni-Entertainment.
Southern Hemisphere, 29466.

"Happy New year, Commander." General Yaskovic smiled, handing over an omni-champagne glass. The design impeccable on the glass, even down to the misty OT logo etched into the side.

The commander grunted in response, "Thanks," he said, almost unheard.

"You know Zach, this promotion came at a cost. Being off world commander for Omni-Pol's operations is a massive step up. In prestige and various other..." The general downed a sizeable quantity of his champagne "...benefits. But the thing is," he added, placing a hand on Zach's shoulder. "You knew what to do, and when to do it, and who to sacrifice for the progress of the corporation."

"Yes. Lovely." Zach Brannigan replied, setting the glass down. "Look, if you don't mind. I've really got to get going."

"Where to? Got a lady friend?" Yaskovic grinned.

Brannigan gave a solemn nod and turned on his feet.

"Not going to see the year out here?"

Brannigan turned once more and began walking backwards, "When you live like I do General, you don't sit and watch things rush by."

* * *

Omni-Pol HQ, Research and Development.
Southern Hemisphere.

The room was relatively dark, all bar the occasional computer console running diagnostics and scans, filling the room with hues of different colours. Beep, Brannigan walked into the darkened room. Beep. He paced towards the medical logs screen and took a brief look down the life signs monitor. Beep.

"You know what you're doing, don't you?" Brannigan looked over his shoulder towards Omni-Pol's secondment engineer Caleb Chase working on the desk. Caleb was at least fifty years old with not a single hair on his head after an unfortunate accident within the proximity of a plasma torch when he was younger. He luckily wasn't deformed by it, but it gave his head a nice pristine shine from the extreme heat.

"Not entirely, no. This hasn't been attempted before." The engineer had his hands up in the air, both of which were in a pair of blue wire covered gloves. He was placing holographic elements into something far greater.

"This is hardly a time to be playing games." Zech turned and walked over.

Caleb stopped and looked over, "This isn't a game, it's a nanoconstructor."

"A what?"

"These gloves" Caleb held them up, "allow me to work on a greater scale than the one I'm actually doing. This hologram is a representation of what's going on down here." He put his finger on a small box in the table, no more than a centimetre wide. "In there, nanites work to mimic what I'm doing with the gloves. Allowing personal interface with on a nano-scale."

"aaah. When will you be done with it?" Brannigan asked.

"Another six months, a year."

"Why so long?"

"Because we've never put one of these in a human before, once I've got the hardware built I need to program in the software." Caleb looked up from the work. "That and you've only got three people working on this. It'd be faster if you got a whole team assigned."

"We can't risk having this exposed." Zach sighed, "They'll shut it down, destroy her and most likely make us disappear."

"The thing is, the software in this thing is going to have to be so specific. It's going to have to use progressive algorithms and development subroutines, otherwise she'll never be able to learn and adapt from what happens to her." Caleb zoomed in on the chip via the holographic display. "If it doesn't work, she'll end up a vegetable, responding only to basic commands set out to her."

"Wait, I thought this was just going to re-electrify her body?"

Caleb pulled off the gloves and set them down on the table before moving over to Bahirae's bed. "As I’ve said time and time before, we can't re-energise her lymphatic and nervous systems. For all intents and purposes she's dead now. We stop these heart and lung monitors, her boy will begin to decompose and all you'll have left is metal and bone."

"You've seen the implants then?"

"I partially designed them," Caleb smiled. "I can't see how you've gotten away with it for so long, the implants you ordered were all for separate people."

"But we put it into the one person, we broke the 29440 cybernetics law."

"So you made yourself an actual cyborg. You've had no problems with this one?" Zach moved around the bed and checked the heart monitor and blood flows.

"Surprisingly no, we took her rather young and reformed her, so her body knew it like riding a bike. The problem with the previous ones was that they were too old, they took on the Omni-Tek superiority programming and made it breedist, seeing themselves as the superior race."

"Bahirae's the only one on Omni-Prime. Isn't she?"

"We hid her during the great purge, since Omni-Admin think they're all gone they won't look for her." Zach Brannigan crossed his arms and looked over at Caleb.

"The implants aren't working at full capacity though, they're only at ten percent." Caleb looked up.

"We were afraid she'd become too powerful, as it is she can kick through doors and kill people with one hit."

"You know, with the chip she'll be able to control the power of the implants don't you?"

Brannigan nodded, "Which is why I'm relying on you to ensure that it doesn't see the end of her, or us."

[Bahirae]

Bahirae's Office.
Omni-Pol HQ.
Southern Hemisphere, 29467

Sierra rummaged through the contents of the desk, as if looking for something. His sword and sheath were on the desk in a way that it looked that it'd be simply dropped there.

"Where the hell is it?" He murmured, pushing aside papers and pads. In his carelessness, a solitary paper slid from the side of the drawer. It's descent was delayed, swaying from side to side and engaging in a spinning motion before stopping on a hand. Rising from a crouched position, Sierra slid the paper back into the drawer.

"Can I help you?" Lieutenant Rafferty asked, stepping into the office and noticing the unfamiliar face. Rafferty had an office one down from Bahirae, and often had lunch with her, while not particularly friends they were good work colleagues.

"Oh, no, I was, here and, I'm gathering things to take to Bahirae's bedside." Sierra replied, jumbling up his words. Part of his instinct told him to reach for the sword, but not on his own people. Least not at this point.

"You don't know do you?" Rafferty stepped inside and sealed the door. "Look, mate. Whatever those rebel bastards did to her, she's not coming back. She's dead and gone."

The pair locked eyes, and Sierra shook his head slightly. "How did she die?"

"A rebel stuck some sort of prehistoric electrical device to the back of her head, it fried her from the inside out. What parts of her aren't charred, are liquid." The lieutenant closed the distance between him, Sierra and the desk. "Say, haven't I seen you around before?"

"Possibly, I work in the training department." Sierra picked up his sword, flipped it over and slotted it back into his belt.

"You train in prisons?"

"I have done from time to time, you never know when staff might need it in those places."

"Aaaah, that explains it then. I'm Lieutenant Rafferty, I study inmate behaviour as part of the pre-reformation process."

"A mind killer then?"

Rafferty put his hands down on the desk and leant in slightly, "I watch them, nothing more. I approve of Reform's methods yes, but they're for making a safer community."

"Destroying the free mind, one rebel at a time." Sierra moved around the desk and towards the door.

"You're not the first person to dissagree with the effective methods, and you sure won't be the last." Rafferty was right, Sierra wouldn't be the last to object, not least to his eyes. The last people would be some thirteen years later on a planet called Rubi-Ka, during a rebel invasion of an Omni-Prison he would be shot, killed and fall victim to the 1% of those who never successfully made it through reclaimation. That however, is a different story.

* * *

*PING* The maglift rose to Sierra's floor and opened it's doors. Stepping in, the faded orchestral music once again cursed his ears. "One day, they're going to change the music in these." He said to himself. The lift dropped at the speed just below that which'd make your stomach turn, but fast enough that you felt your feet were going to leave the ground. Watching the surrounding peaks of the Omni-Pol HQ rise above him, the sky darkened under the towering monstrosity. That was until the elevator itself passed inside the building.

*PING* Ground floor, a floor filled with pictures of over-achieving over-paid Omni-Pol officers. Brannigan himself had just gotten a picture up there, at the cost of Commander Hughes. The old were often shifted out to be replaced and history re-written with the young, for Omni-Tek youth was important, for it meant a future. The more it could portray it's ideals as youthful, the more chance it had of appealing to the future generations.

Passing through security scanners, Sierra received a solitary nod from the guards on duty before heading out the door and down the street. The sun was beginning to hide behind the buildings as the day drew onward, casting a shadow to the third floor of each building, he passed the yalm park with no sign of stopping. Most people at his rank, even a significant amount below had yalms, finding them the most effective method of getting around Omni-Prime.

Cornering to take a different street, he bumped hard into someone, they looked at each other for a moment. "sorry, I didn't see where I was going." answered the man. "Even with our eyes wide open, we can miss so much" Sierra replied. "Well done sir, and good luck." The man slid a package into Sierra's pocket before moving on.

They thought nothing of it as they continued to increase the distance between each other. Sierra reached the edge of the river and looked out over the hydra vehicles, his hand went for the package in his pocket, pulling it open. Keeping his eyes ahead of him, his fingers danced over the paper inside, it wasn't money, causing him to groan. His ear lit up, dialing a twenty digit number and rang.

"Yes?"

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Who is this?"

"You know who the hell this is now give me my damn money." Sierra barked.

"You didn't kill her, you just switched her off."

"I'd like to see you do better, now where's my three million?"

"We had an agreement, you kill her and we pay you. You didn't kill her, you don't get paid."

"Fine. I'll bring you her head." He shut down the call and tossed the empty package into the water, storming off.

[Bahirae]

Omni-Entertainment,
Southern Hemisphere, Omni-Prime
29467

"They won't let you in Sierra, it's within Omni-Pol's medical suite, your trainer status doesn't give you clearance to that area." Vincent Vosbien spoke up, running his hand over his receding hairline. "You want the bounty you have to bring the h-"

Vincent was stopped dead as a foot rose within an inch of his throat, "Don't patronise me Vince, I know what's required." Sierra lowered his foot and walked off towards the gaping hole in the wall, floor and ceiling the permacrete had crumbled away at the edges resulting in a fantastic view towards the Omni-Pol HQ, lit up in the dead of night. It sat atop a machine made hill, surrounded by smaller buildings of similar shape, all police related. The starlight gave grey to the blackened talon-like complexes, clawing at the skyline. None however possessed the grandeur or height of the Omni-Pol HQ, pillars of light rose up at it's base, like prison bars with the sky as its roof.

"Beautiful, yet menacing, expensive yet essentially brutal." Vincent looked out towards the HQ.

"Bahirae or the HQ?" Sierra turned to look at him.

"You're obsessed with her Sierra, ever since you saw that photo all those years ago you've done nothing but dream of defeating her."

"I'm biding my time,"

"You're not!" Vincent shouted, putting a hand on his shoulder, "You're just wasting time, you're better than her."

"I need to fight her one to one, equally."

"Equally?!" He laughed, "You're human, and she's a cyborg enhanced to the point of martial art superiority, you'll never be level."

Sierra turned away from the hole in the wall and headed deeper into the building, "It's about who has the greater level of skill, she may have technique and impeccable timing, but she doesn't have the passion, the drive for it."

"She's programmed to kill, you've seen her do it. She's got Omni-Tek's entire bloody history engraved in her memory and she uses it against those she wants to take down, take her down while she's incapacitated."

"I want to see how she processes the fact that I'm the leak from inside their HQ. All her training, all that she's learnt from me would come into disrepute and she'd question herself." Sierra rubbed the side of his face, a slight resistance from the stubble.

"A single question won't lay her to rest."

"No, but another electronic blast like the taser gave her will."

* * *

Meanwhile...

Omni-Pol HQ, Research and Development.
Southern Hemisphere.

"The chip's almost ready to be brought online," Kaleb Chase spoke into his comm unit.

"Excellent, get her working and operational and I'll be right there." Brannigan replied,

Kaleb closed the channel and subsequently; the back panel on Bahirae. The nanobots rose up from beneath her epidermal layer and began to sew the skin shut perfectly, leaving no trace of an access port ever being there. "Bahirae." He spoke up, not a second passed and the unit's head spun round to face him, eyes wide open. "Initiate permanent start-up sequence, Kaleb-Alpha-Bravo-Echo-Echo-Gamma."

Bahirae’s eyes shut and the body jumped, as if receiving a shock from a defibrillator. She sat up and looked around, "Internal Temperature, thirty nine degrees Celsius, repairs at one hundred percent, nano-stream pressure at one hundred percent, cyto-toxic levels at two percent, Internal organs bypassed since last activation, nano implants at fourty-seven perce-."

"Status report Bahirae?" Brannigan asked, Kaleb shook his head, speaking over Bahirae "She's rattling off her basic statistics, she's reverted to her original programming!"

"What?! what about her brain?"

"I think it's completely gone, the nanites have been keeping it in stasis, but I don't know how to wake it."

"I'll get you more scientists!" Brannigan turned on his heels and moved out the door before Kaleb could respond.

"Bahirae unit, deactivate." Kaleb turned and smiled at her,

"...Nanite functions at nominal levels, unable to comply with deactivation, central core activated at five percent, neural net offline, power source functioning at ninety-eight percent efficiency."

"Bahirae unit, mute audio"

Sure enough, she accepted that command, but continued to move her mouth as if she was speaking, Kaleb moved back to the control console and checked the readouts, "I'm sorry Ms Seruguisu, I don't know what to do."

[Bahirae]

Omni-Med HQ, Morgue,
Northern Hemisphere.
29467

"Primary and secondary punctures to the skin appear to have been done by gunshots. One to the heart and one to the head," The coroner checked the corpse with the scanner, one green and one blue line pulsing up and down the body. "The decapitation was done after the impact of the bullets, by a sword. Based on the molecular separation of the bone, scanners confirm that it was most likely a tritanium blade."

The coroner's assistant, Andrea Islington, stepped forward, interrupting the report. "Why would they decapitate them after death?"

"I don't know, what concerns me the most is that someone would carry both a sword and a gun, with the accuracy of weapons these days, there's no need for swords." The coroner checked the scanner readout once more, "Sure enough, the head was severed, rolled a few feet away, but was never picked up or touched infact. No signs of damage to the skull other than the bullet wound."

"Matthew?" Andrea looked up from the main computer screen across the room, having moved back. "The DNA match has come in, he's Sub-Director Lucas Tomlinson, second in command of Omni-Pol's Arm-"

"-Armed forces on Omni-Prime." Matthew, the coroner finished the sentence. "This is more than just a co-incidence, someone's specifically targeting OPAF members while they're off duty,"

"Aren't their details classified when they're out of uniform?"

"No, they're you're standard Omni-Pol police officers, just with a lot more combat and urban training. Which makes this murder a whole lot more interesting, because it could be anyone that's after these people."

"These people?" Andrea looked up.

"Yes, call up autopsy logs for yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. Should be about thirty four people."

"Thirty-seven. Simon Roderick, Lea Willis, Rebecca Vilcu, Kia Li Sung, holy...how long is this going to go on for?"

Matthew put the scanner down and turned to face Andrea, "Those were all Generals of the Omni-Armed Forces contingent here on this planet, the core of Omni Armed Forces across the world. This is too close to be a fluke, or a simple ccoincidence, these people are being assassinated."

"Shall I get Doctor Valthus on the comm?"

"Yes, we need to get a warning out to Omni-Pol that their people are being specifically targeted, and to be on the lookout for a man with a sword and a gun."

Meanwhile, 6,000 miles away in Omni-Entertainment Quadrant three, Housing Complex two...

"David, shhh. You'll wake the neighbours!" Liam chuckled pulling the covers over to his side of the bed. "Get into bed dammit, I've got to be up early for a training drill."

"I'll be there in a minute!" David stumbled across the bathroom, trousers round his ankles as he dropped the sonic toothbrush back into it's charger. Lifting one foot out of the trousers, he kicked them off with the other, out the bathroom door and across the bedroom, but not even remotely close to the washing basket. He jumped into the bedroom with a "tada!"

"Aren't they mine?"

"Yes,"

"Aren't they a little too tight on you?" Liam grinned,

"Sod off," He said, walking over towards the bed. No more than a meter from it, the doorbell rang and the flatscren visual rose up at the bottom of the bed. "We have a visitor? At this hour?" David turned and looked at the screen curiously.

"One of your workmates?" Liam asked, looking at the grey haired man on the screen.

"Must be, Stay here, I'll get it."

"Hurry back!" Liam rolled over, clasping at the quilt and closing his eyes. He smiled, slightly watching the athletic silhouette of his fiancée leave the room.

The alarm went on David's side of the bed, Liam groaned, "Another five minutes..." He swung his arm over behind him to find David but found nothing, no disturbance to the under sheets either. "David?"

Liam sat bolt upright and looked around the room, the bathroom was pitch black, "Computer, locate David."

The computer responded, acknowledging David's presence downstairs. "oh, good." Liam smiled, slowing getting out of bed and heading for the shower. A good half hour passed in which he showered, washed and changed. He opened the window on the bathroom to vent some of the steam from the shower and noticed the yalm was still parked in their '301' spot. "Odd."

"David?" Liam shouted from the top of the stairs, putting his belt on. Downstairs was dark, darker infact than upstairs prior to opening the window. "Computer, daytime proto-," Liam slipped hard and fast on the stairs and slid at a speed he couldn't comprehend. He landed, face to face with David. Both their eyes open wide, Liam winced, trying to push himself up, but his hands squelched in the wet carpet. "Computer, lights...maximum level."

The scene brightened and Liam found himself staring at a head with no body, the eyes wide open in terror and the body of his fiancée still standing bolt upright in the middle of the front room. Liam fumbled in his attempts to stand up, eventually attempting a sort of shuffled crawl and run for the door, he burst out of it, screaming into the hallway of the apartment complex. "Somebody help!" He cried, covered in blood, "Please!"

* * *

Four hours later,

There were four armed guards posted outside the door, a force field active on the door and a series of white suited individuals inside.

"You called me here for a decapitation?"

"No, commander." Doctor Valthus "I called you here, because this is the thirty-eight of your people to die. Short of Sub-Director Mikkelsen, someone is specifically targeting them. All your generals are dead."

"I'm aware of that, we've got the complex under maximum security, Sub-Director Mikkelsen has relocated to internal housing along with Director Sanderson." Commander Rodriguez checked his comm unit, "They moved in at 0600 this morning,

"The fact that rigor mortis set in when he was standing up shows that the cut had no disruption, it was clean, precise and..well...as you can see from the hologram." Valthus pointed to the scene, the blood, head and corpse now gone, the furniture and such gone but instead replaced with a few holographic emitters, which reconstructed the scene. "...the swordsman is an expert at this, an assassin almost."

"Any specificity on their training? Any trademarks? calling cards?" Rodriguez asked,

"None, it could be anyone with a sword and a combat training nanoprogram." Valthus sighed, tapping the holo-control pad on his other hand.

"Run it again, the reconstruction."

"Okay, based on the footprints..." Valthus entered the information in and activated the display. Sure enough, the body disappeared and it returned to David running down the stairs in just his underwear. The door opened by audio command and an undetermined shadow stepped into the room. The holographic reconstruction followed the footprints on the carpet perfectly, landing in each as the culprit turned, withdrawing the sword, decapitating David and returning the sword back to it's sheath in one full three-hundred and sixty degree motion. The head bounced twice before coming to a halt a few feet from the stairs. "...and that's where it ends."

"No detail on the killer what so ever?"

"None, we got the shoeprints, we're cross referencing them now. The footwork is fancy though, whoever it is, they know what they're doing when they do this."

[Bahirae]

Sierra swung his sword calmly, deflecting the bullet. "You know, we've already tried that." He stepped back, resheathing the blade. "Focus on what you know best."

"I wouldn't be here if you hadn't done what you did!" Bahirae's stern face frowned at him. "Besides, it's more fun here, for you at least."

"What is the meaning of this?" Sierra cocked his head slightly, closing the distance between the pair.

"You tell me, you were always the one with the riddles." Bahirae crossed her arms, and smiled at him. "After all, this is just a dream."

"But why a dream?" Sierra checked his sword was still in place. "and why now?"

"simple, balance. For every thing you take away, something else is gained."

"You're not the real Bahirae, you don't know that it was me that tried to kill you." Sierra looked at her closely, her eyes were closed, but she turned to face Sierra as he walked around her.

"You'll tell me, even if you don't want to." Bahirae smiled, "Even if not through your own revenge."

"Revenge?" Sierra pulled his sword out slightly "I don't understand."

"Go Home." and with that Bahirae faded.

Sierra sat bolt upright in bed, and looked around him at the darkness. "Something is wrong..."

Fifthteen Light-years from Omni-Prime,
The Constanople.
29467

Admiral's Log, Pre-Mission Completion, 18th September 29467. We are currently enroute to the Tau-Alpha system amid rumours of a resistance takeover. There have been minimal exportations from this planet rich in vital resources, we will not discount the fact that the planet may have undergone a revolution from below. The planet's leader; CEO Melinda Brady, is not answering hails, I fear she may have been usurped as leader of the planet.

Admiral's Ready Room
The Constanople.

"Admiral, Captain, sorry for the intrusion." Commander Palthos stepped into the room.

"Go on, Commander." The Admiral turned in his chair.

"We've just dropped out of hyperspace and We're assuming a high orbit of Tau-Alpha Nine and running metaphasic scans as requested."

"Good, notify me if you pick up any of the components that we were alerted to." The Captain, interjected. Duly, the commander saluted. "Dismissed, Commander."

He turned and headed for the bridge, "Lieutenant Matthews, ensure you report on any of those materials that we pick up on." Commander Palthos lowered himself into the Admiral's Bridge chair. "Liam, Alex. Get yourselves down to Communication Control on deck ten, monitor the communications frequencies for the planet, highlight any that aren't using a cyclic comm code, and any that might be rebellious."

One man and one woman abandoned their posts on the bridge, followed by a brief "Aye Sir" and headed into one of the maglifts.

Matthews' station beeped a few times. "Sir, I've found something" he piped up. "It's...tritanium based, emitting low band EM radiation, it's...not a specific transmission, more so a frequent pulse."

"It's the same pulse we've detected from the previous planets. Coming from an installation....four miles under the northern continent."

Commander Palthos stood up and moved over to Matthews, "Focus scans on that area, get me an exact lifesign count, structure, everything."

"I'm picking up activity from the surface. An energy surge of sorts." Matthews turned to lock eyes with Palthos.

"Commander?" Came the call over the comm, "It's Liam, I'm picking up alot of battle related activity communications. The planet's going to active weapon status."

"Thank you Liam, the two of you, make your way back to the bridge, We'll need you up here."

The planet lit up with bright lights, almost like a star going supernova, "Arm weapons and raise our shields," Commander Palthos turned to his tactical officer, "Bridge to the Ready Room? Admiral, Captain, we need you on the bridge."

A few moments passed before the two walked out of the door, "Report, Commander." The Admiral spoke up, moving to his chair and motioning for Palthos to leave it.

"The planet has raised it's shields and seems to be locking weapons at us." Commander Palthos moved to his chair, and to his console.

"Have the scans confirmed a rebel comp-" The ship rocked hard as a barrage of missiles hit it, stopping the admiral mid-sentence as he shook in his chair.

"I think that pretty much confirms it's a resistance controlled planet, Sir" Matthews picked himself up and back into his chair.

"Alright, enough of the smart arsed comments, get them on comm frequencies." Admiral Cookson spoke up, standing up and pulling the clips on his Omni-Tek uniform into place.

"...nope, no response." Matthews replied.

"If that's the way they want to play it...Commander, Arm the Ion Cannon." There was a brief second of silence across the bridge as the lights went from red to blue as all power was transferred to the forward shields and the cannon.

"Cannon confirms priming sequence active, countdown, one minute." Palthos looked over at the Admiral. "Target?"

"Lock onto the main complex, the source of all the communications."

"Lock confirmed, read to fire on your mark." Palthos looked over at the Admiral. "I am however getting some strange readings from the complex."

"How so strange?"

Palthos keyed in a few commands at his console and the viewscreen changed from the planet to a focussed infra-red view. "The communications center seems to have some sort of geothermal power station beneath it, there's several hundred hollow collector rods reaching down into the core of the planet, collecting it's heat...the ionisation blast could destabilize the power station, shutting down power to that sector."

"Excellent, two birds with one stone. Computer, activate firing sequence, Authorisation Cookson-Beta-Three-Nine." Admiral Cookson turned to the Captain.

"Confirm firing sequence, Bradley-Tango-Four-Four." The Captain nodded, looking over at the commander for the final sequence.

"Confirm firing sequence, ten second silent countdown, Palthos-Omega-One-Three." Palthos stepped up out of his chair and moved to a position parallel to the commanding officers.

The front of the screen lit up from the flare of the coolant vents and the ship rocked back slightly from the blast. Silence ensued as the lights came back to full strength and non-major systems powered up. The beam took a moment to slam into the planet's shields, cutting through them like a bullet through paper and crashing into the communications centre.

"Post-attack scans confirm complete destruction, a few power surges as a result however. They short normalise once the ionisation has gone." Liam looked up, "I am however..."

"...What Lieutenant?" The Admiral turned on his heels, "What is it?"

"Sir, the planet!" Liam's jaw dropped as his scans began reeling off information that he couldn't believe. Sure enough, Tau-Alpha Nine's crust began to fragment and crack. The planet was falling apart, the striking of the geothermal station had cut through it's pipeline to the planets core and liquefied everything below the crust. The planet splintered, fluid-like matter solidifying in the cold of space as fragments spun and whirled out of place.

"Tactical, raise deflective shields and begin firing on any incoming projectiles. Helm, plot us an immediate escape course, achieve hyperspace as soon as possible!"

The ship swung hard to port as the missile batteries sprung to life, practically spewing projectiles at the oncoming barrage. The explosions grew closer and closer to the ship, rocking it as the chunks got bigger and bigger.

"We're down to 200 missiles sir, starboard arrays will be empty in seven seconds!" Lieutenant Liam Fosterton barked. It was no more than a few seconds later that the outside of the ship began to gain a fantastic golden tint, it elongated within a matter of seconds, stretching further than any eye could see unto what seemed like the farthest reaches of space, and with that the tail caught up with a flash of light.