Meanwhile on Rubi-Ka...

[Agentcora]

Sat in her Office in the secret Omni-Pol facility, Bravo-One, a soft blip is heard as she activates the voice recognition systems on her computer: “Computer, set all systems and Officers to condition 1”

The sound of the alarm tone can be heard echoing throughout the facility. As Officers run to their stations Cora makes an announcement: “This is Geers, I want all personnel in full combat gear waiting in the hanger bay, 30 seconds ago!”

Cora grabs her trusty rifle as she leaves the Office, making her way down the notum-reinforced metal clad hallways; her loyal bodyguard a towering being built like a warehouse, even for an Atrox staying at 5 paces behind her. She walks through the door into the hanger bay, where a formation of 30 Omni-Pol Officers in full combat gear give a swift simultaneous salute. A man steps forward speaking to Cora:

“Ma’am Tactical Squad Alpha awaiting orders, and I have squads 1 through 6 requesting a MZ.”

Cora closes the visor on her helmet and before answering the man, she thinks to herself:

“It’s Showtime.”

[Falikos]

Katelin rubs her eyes and rolls slowly over in bed toward the bright light streaming in the window. Quickly how bad of an idea this is is evident as the impending hangover pounds through her skull. Sitting up on the edge she haunches over with her head in her hands.

Yawning she finds that a foul taste seems to of crawled into her mouth to take residence. The night before she'd split the better part of two bottles of Hit-The-Floor Jack with Fishmen at the Grind and was now paying for it.

"I drank how much last night? What was I thinking?"

Keeping her eyes closed to a squint, Kate shuffles across the carpet toward the kitchen to get her hands on the coffee pot. Wrangling the filter and coffee grounds into the carafe is tricky, but managed with a soft beep from the start button. She turns around and leans her back side on the counter with a sigh while she waits.

The apartment is quiet and Kate about jumps out of her skin when an alarm on her comm rails at her. Fumbling with it to turn it off she smiles noticing that it was just a notification that Nulion's signal was active, she'd nearly forgotten she had an appointment to talk to her friend.

The coffee continues to brew as she flips her comm and starts her day.

[Towerblock]

Run run run - fight - die - be born again - run - fight - kill.

"LET MY PEOPLE GOOOOO!" It screamed at such a pitch just before it charged the terminal. At the very top of it, a large neon sign read 'Leets -R- Us' Teeth the size of sabres, and sharper than a shark's tore into the metal, but not near enough leverage to remove the front panel.

Grrrrrr! He thought. Must destroy! I will free you, my friends! Flee! Flee to the woods! Be safe!

Hours and hours of righteous frustration left the leet with a bloody and tired maw, and the terminal almost to scrap metal. The store itself lay gleaming like a reflective spire of hatred. It was a monolith dedicated to servitude and slavery... it was THE enemy.

Breathing in heavy chuffs, the dark leet was tired.. and the moon was settling beyond the horizon.

"J00 wait! I keel u tomoroz!" He sighed, walking away.. each step was a painful reminder of why leets dont eat metal in the first place.

ow... ow... ow...

[Andrew 'Wingger' Comstock]

He sat absently bouncing the ball off the bulkhead next to his pilot's chair. He had done this so many times, and had the trajectory of the ball so instinctively memorized, he didn't even need to follow the ball with his eyes, just snagging it out of mid air as it sailed back over his shoulder.

"bonk"... "thud"... "bonk".... "thud"...."bonk"...

....

The blue eyed blond twisted around in his chair just in time to dodge an empty bottle being flung at his head narrowly bypassing it before smashing on the bulkhead on the other side of his chair. The pieces make a slithering sound as they slid down the bulkhead in the light gravity they maintained at minimums during interstellar flights.

He glanced back over his shoulder at the obviously hungover and infuriated young lady who worked as the ships engineer. He tried vainly to keep from laughing, knowing it would only infuriate her all the more.

"In the name of all that is holy,... do you HAVE to bounce that thing off the bulkhead!?" She spits out as she dumps the ball down a disposal port.

Both of them suddenly bite their lips.. as the sound of another voice bellows down the hallway from the sleeping quarters.

"That is quite enough BOTH of you! Lord we need to get this long haul over and done with before you both start drivin' me more nuts than you already have!"

Wingger almost holds his breath for a moment, till he realized the bellow from the hallway was not going to be followed by the Captain busting into the control room. Wingger took another look back over his shoulder at Eddie, before they both burst out laughing in spite of themselves. "yeah, I think the sooner this haul is over, the better for all of us. Besides your almost out of booze". As Eddie headed on out of the control room in a snort of disgust at the very though, Wingger turned back to his controls, and after a quick verification that nothing had changed, digs another ball out of his side pocket. After a moment of looking at the ball, he decides that valor is the better part of honor, at least this time, and shoves it back into his pocket. He settles back into his seat for another long shift of monitoring the readouts while they continued their flight.

[Ezetane]

The twisting eye of the Shadowlands loomed high over the darkness of Adonis, casting those immortal twisting shadows over the shattered landscape. The faint, erratic breeze of the Shadowlands carried with it scents of ancient verdigris and moss over the steady floodwaters of the city.

Though the landscape barely changed from day to day in any way that it would be appreciated or expected to many beyond the scientists, to the purely observant the lagoon was a powerful sight. All things in Adonis City grew from a tragic silence, like the distant echo of death that it was - the spirits reminded all of that. That echo was louder to none today than the lone nanomage sat beneath a tree by the brink, overlooking the Redeemed village, to the north- east. Clan Main.

Coarse dust coated thick the weathered stone of the brink before him, where an untold myriad of hecklers had been laid waste, slowly being caught by the breeze drifting down from the lagoon, and swept off into the beyond. This was the nature of the frontline researchers efforts; Hecklers. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of hecklers.

The battles were always furious, and the one preceding had been no different. His fingers still twitched from frantic nano-executions, and his head ached from a stone-throw impacting him square in the face, such a force threatening to rattle the symbiants right out of his skull. But the team had broken with a respectful farewell, and each of the five had left on their own ways and winds. Shadowpsych though, instead chose to take a few moments of peace out of this hallow place.

Modern nanotechnology made natural rest something not oft considered to most - particularly a nanomage - but there was still that old natural calling somewhere deep within the notum-bleached skin of his that called out for it every now and then, so now he sat, gazing out across the brink into the abyss, subconsciously categorising the tragectory and direction of every gust of wind and the amount of dust taken into the currents with it. Listening closely to the sway of the branches, and the eerie groans of distant Rafters and Mali, to the south.

He sat still in his battlegear, shield extending from his forearm and Acantophis seated firmly in his grip. His Demons wandered with their fervent obedience about him, watching and listening, their cricketing breaths and erratic shudders giving him the eerie scent of home.

Voices chattered in his mind, reporting to him their status. They did not act with personality, but they had them to him. His demon spoke with the voice of himself - as a child, a young boy, an old man, a newbreed, while his psychosis pet chattered with manic incoherence in the voice of some distant character from long past, and his fleshknitter sang softly, with a smooth, matriarchal tone, like a siren. "Hush, hush, bleed no longer, my love."

It was often in his early years of learning he had spoken to these creatures, although extensions of himself. It seemed like a natural response to the curse of metaphysical artistry, the awareness of all things, outside and within. This night though, he felt not the desire to ask the same questions that plagued his mind and conscience. They were meaningless questions, questions to which the answers would come - no doubt with the Yuttos guidance - and seemed to exist only to challenge his mental health, but no. Tonight, all was calm here. His comlinks were quiet, and those that were not were unimportant, or muted.

He laid back his head against the tree, and raised his hand to his knee. Carefully flexing each finger.

"Terminate." he spoke, pulling back his hand like on the strings of a puppeteers cross. And as he did, the muscles of his demons twitched in release - as if suddenly shot by a distant gun, and faded away, as invisible nanites recycled their matter back into himself.

And all was truly quiet once more.

[Falikos]

Katelin is alone near the large fireplace inside Reets Retreat. The soft green tones of the room appeal to her and she finds it to be an comfortable spot to think through things. As is usual, Kate has a lot on her mind and finds it difficult to settle down and begins to pace back and forth along the carpet, eyes darting up each time the seasoned wood crackles. Sounds of footprints just outside the doorway patter softly and she holds her breath waiting for the swish of the door opening to mark someone's entrance. The door remains closed the the steps recede down the hall and it is quiet again, the fireplace spitting the occasional spark.

Keyed up, hot and bothered, frightened, and confused. Kate is all of these things but it is only a slice of what is eating at her. Slowly she rocks her shoulders back and forth a few times, trying to force her body to relax. The muscles ache and she leans forward into a deep stretch, her face pulling into a brave but pained expression as her spine pops one vertebra at a time. Bent in half at the waist she looks between her extended legs at the couch behind her. Lined up neatly is the gruesome remains of three leet dolls and a pad of paper with sheet after sheet of hastily written words. Some great savagery has their fluffy white stuffing pouring out of them where they have been disemboweled, but the cheerful faces and large eyes seem to smile approvingly.

Something about the scene makes her laugh as Kate straightens moving to sit on the couch folding her legs under her claiming her spot beside the trio. All four of them, Kate and her leets, are aligned to the task at hand and she winks at one setting him off to the side. Kate's mind skips around as she meticulously begins to remove what remains of the stuffing; a few stray bits floating unnoticed to the floor. Borealis, the perplexing conversation with Hans, Ken and Branwyn, and the self analysis of the disturbing dreams she's been having roll through like a storm. Her fingers pick at the fabric untended by her thoughts.

Before too long leet one and two have been divested of their innards and she splits the seam entirely to remove the tan fabric now hanging loose around their bellies. The soft sigh as the seam tears rips through her mind and she nearly drops the first little fiend. Deep breaths and shaking hands are the only outside symptom that she is reliving the torture she survived, a wound reopened recently even though the physical elements healed long ago. A macabre play of voices and rough hands, torn flesh and pain, fear and fire stab at her well-being; seeking out any weakness to gain entry and set her free. Keeping a firm grip on the fabric Kate takes a moment to gain composure; otherwise she will give in to the fear and run screaming from the place.

Grabbing a worn pack from the floor Kate dives in nearly elbow deep, forcing the panic to give up or take her by force. Rooting around the bottom with one hand trying to guess by feel where her notum thread is. She sticks a sore finger into her mouth where the loose needle has pricked her right ring finger, drawing out the needle and thread much more carefully with her left. With more concentration than the task should require she quickly sews together a Frankenstein zig-zag down the center of the fabric. The way the blue thread catches the light makes her smile and a sense of good cheer warms her when she remembers why she is bothering with it at all. A gift for a friend to make them feel safe and at home, no matter where they are. Somehow the chubby little critters worm their way through even his darkest moods, and the rotund Pwnie even more so. Great care is taken as she lifts the last whole leet from the seat and attaches the patchwork panel.

"It.. well, somewhat resembles a Sumo Leet?" she grins at the flaccid creature.

Two seams that looks more like the handiwork of a drunken spider run down each side of the leet, the needle hanging loose from a small opening ready to accept stuffing. Kate tucks in all of the fluffy cotton that was set aside into the critter, humming quietly to herself her mind blissfully blank. The leet's stomach grows; rounding out with every wad but the fabric bunches where it isn't quite enough to pull it taught. Inspecting her work she holds it up, turning it side to side in the firelight. It needs something and she scans the room looking for inspiration, eyeballing the overstuffed chairs with envy. A bulb goes off in her head and she reaches for her notepad at her side crumpling the notes neatly into balls before stuffing them into the doll.

Poking at the bloated belly with her finger, Kate makes a satisfied sound deep in her throat while turning it over in her hands searching for any obvious flaws. Adding three more stitches and a prim X at the end with the shimmery thread her project is complete.

"Perfect..."

[Louila Adamson]

“Come in.”

Louila pushed the door open, walked in and stopped. She could hear the door quietly close behind her back. Officer Siwicki looked up from the papers laying on his desk and smiled warmly at the reporter.

“Louila, please, sit down” he gestured towards a comfy armchair in front of his desk.

She moved towards the armchair trying to look confident and not nervous at all.

“Thank you, officer.” she said and sat down.

“I've called you today” Siwicki said “to talk to you about a very important assignment.” He looked at her for a moment still smiling at her.

“I assure you I...” she started talking but stopped.

“Please, don't be alarmed. Your performance so far has been excellent. Your superior has a very good opinion about you. Director Pourais chose you personally for this job.” He stood up, pulled another chair up in front of her and sat down again. She turned her chair clumsily to face him.

“There is absolutely no doubt in my mind” he smiled at her “that you are perfectly capable of carrying out your assignment. It's the nature of it that I'm worried about.” She nodded slowly.

“The people you are going to write your article about are dangerous. Their rhetoric can turn ideological correctness into something twisted and warped. I have no doubt they will try to do that to you.” He paused for a moment. “That is why I need to know if there is anything in your mind, any doubt, any resentment towards the corporation that they can explore to get to you.”

She looked him straight in the eyes “No, officer. There isn't anything.”

[Termin Zawar]

Termin sat down with a sigh, as he pulled out his datapad. It was always a nice change of pace, and at least a change of scenery to be able to take a short break and grab a cup of coffee outside of Neuters in Newland. Many times he would sit here, at a table out of the way, watching the ebb and flow of the various people, while he reviewed some of the many reports that crossed his path each day. Most people didn’t even notice his presence. He liked it that way. He observed. He was quite adept at picking up nuances of people’s personality, their strengths and their weaknesses, just in simply body language. In simple and for the most part totally unnoticed unconscious habits every one tends to pick up over time. Many times he would relax, just sitting in the shadows, watching people who were for the most part totally unaware of his presence much less his scrutiny.

As he sat sipping the coffee, a blond man exiting Neuters caught his eye. Nothing very noticeable about the man. He had rather long blond hair pulled back out of his way, sideburns, and the clothing of a farmer. Nothing really of much notice in the man as he stood comfortably chatting with his companion, while sipping a beer. But.. there was something about the man, that kept his attention. What? A tilt of his head maybe? Perhaps it was someone he had encountered before in the course of his investigations.

Sitting in the shadows as he was, he was pretty sure the blond man had not even noticed his presence. He quietly turned his datapad, so that it could id scan the man in question. Johann Fishmen, Neutral. A few more touches on his datapad brought up further information about the man. Yes, indeed a farmer as his clothing indicated. Resident of Northern Mort. And no apparent connection to anything that would have likely brought this man to his attention.. So, what was it about the man that caught his eye? There was something to him. Something that Termin felt, familiar. He had encountered this man before, he was sure of it. He could forget a face, forget a name, but mannerisms he rarely could be fooled on. And this would have been a mannerism that would have caught his attention before for some reason. Even though he couldn’t put his finger on what, he knew to trust his instincts. The mannerisms were the quiet keys to what makes us all tick. And they were something that he had always had quite a knack reading in others.

He sat quietly sipping his coffee, observing this Johann, when apparently the man somehow felt the observation. His own instincts apparently kicking in. He turned slightly, a barely perceptible turn, and glance back. Imperceptible to most, but not to Termin. Nor was the reaction when Johann caught sight of Termin. Interesting. Yes, definitely interesting. Termin continued to sit sipping his coffee, now being even less obvious in his observation of the blond Johann, noting the mans change in body language. Tense. Extremely subtle, but definitely tense. The man was obviously very good at covering up his responses, but not good enough to prevent the slight loss of color that happened when he had noticed Termin sitting watching him. It could be nothing more than a neutral’s unease with the presence of someone obviously employed by the Corporation. Termin was after all, wearing a fairly obvious Omni-Tek coat. The OT symbol quite clear on his left chest. But somehow this man’s reaction was beyond what he would have expected. And the man was growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute. He may hide that in his face, but every subtle sign of the man’s body was signaling a tension, almost a stance of a fighter. His casual conversation with his companion, seemed strained now. Then he suddenly excused himself, and walked off. Heading with forcefully unhurried steps towards the nearby wompahs. Back to home most likely. To… safety? The man never glanced back at Termin again, but his body language gave him away. He was very aware of Termin’s presence.

Termin simply watched. And wondered, where had he seen this man before? If he had been unsure of that before, the man’s subtle but unmistakable reaction to seeing him there, only proved it. He might have to think about this. He was interrupted by a soft beeping from his comm. pad, as other duties and requests interrupted his train of thought. Well something for a later time perhaps. When he had time. He drained his cup of coffee with a sigh, and stood up to return to his own duties, heading quietly toward the cluster of wompahs, toward Borealis, and back to his work.

[FoosballX]

He sat there quite perched on top of the large bronto head looking over the square in front of Neuter's. Careful of his position, he made sure he could see but no one could see him. The last thing he wanted was to have a talk with Toog or Hekkat on why it's not good for the city's Foreign Affairs minister to be sitting on top of buildings. He liked sitting up high and looking over the city, it was peaceful and relaxing. While at the same time left him in a position to react should a problem arose.

He look down at the tables below, and he saw him. “I thought I smelled something foul”, he whispered to himself. He watched the man in his Omni uniform sit down and sip his coffee. Foos brought up the tactical HUD in his symbiant. The targeting system locked on, it was a clear shot. He put his arm out as his hand formed an imaginary gun. He squeezed the invisible trigger and made a “pow” sound under his breath. “I would be nothing to put your brains on the ground next to you. You smug bastard”, he whispered.

As much as he wanted to kill the man below him, he was well aware he couldn't. Even if there was no thing as reclaim or he had the right bullet, it still wouldn't matter he was too well connected. Too many questions would be asked, and Foos knew he wasn't ready to answer them. But even if he could a quick death wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to see him suffer, torture him slowly and laugh at his cries.

It had been almost a year since he took her away and kept her safe from the man below him. And still Foos' hatred was just as strong as ever. She was safe, and her memories of what happened have faded. But there were still those moments when Foos would be awaken from a sound sleep to hear her mumbling a cry saying, “I don't know. I don't know where his is. Please stop.” It was in those moments his hatred would become overflowing.

He lowered his hand and watched the man read his datapad. “Ah, selecting a new innocent to torture today?” There was no love loss between the two men, and most where aware. Even Zawar knew how Foos felt about him, even if most time they did their public dance well. Foos knew Zawar didn't see him as a threat, he was well aware of his shielding. “Everyone can be replaced, everyone is expendable. One day you're defenses won't be there as they are now. I'll be waiting to take you down and make you pay.” He smiled to himself as he dreamed of that day for a moment.

His flights of fantasy were cut short as he noticed something catching Zawar's eye. He followed his gaze leading him to Fishmen. Foos' eyes widened for a moment, as a slight tinge of concern crept up in his mind. He looked between the two men below him and noted Fishmen wasn't aware he was being watched yet. Foos shook his head and whispered, “That's not him, I told you he's offworld now. That guy is just a simple leet farmer, nothing to concern yourself with.”

Foos sat there watching, thinking over his options. His optics zoomed in closer on Zawar's face looking for a sign of recognition. A sigh of relief escaped his lips realizing he still hadn't connected Fishmen to his memory, but Foos could see the wheels were turning. Foos thought about going down a saying something to Zawar, to break his concentration and give Fishmen enough time to sneak away. He wasn't sure it would work, if Fishmen acknowledged Foos it might set something off in Zawar. He thought about sending Johann a coded message. But then Foos remembered the datapad Zawar was holding and having no real idea of it's capabilities. Even if Zawar couldn't decrypt the message, a leet farmer getting a coded message would raise and eyebrow.

Foos grumbled to himself knowing for the moment there was nothing he could do. He wasn't too worried, he knew Fishmen could easily handle himself. It was being in the position he was in that bothered him the most. Just then a message came in on his comm, he was needed else where. He looked down at the two men once again. He looked over to Fishmen and whispered, “You're on your own friend.” He stood for only a brief moment for the nanobots to change his form, and then flew off.

[Elleza]

Elle screamed loudly and went with a loud bang out of her bed as the alarmclock rang on the side of her, cursing loudly as she smacked
the clock down from her night table , threw it downstairs.
"Fr..gaah!" she shouted out as she looked around herself, grabbing the edge of the bed and stumbles up.
"Yepp, good morning sunshine" she whispered to herself, putting on her glasses, walked downstairs.
A new day with some new challanges. wonder what it will be today?

[Elleza]

A another bad day huh?
______________________
Elles ears twitched as she heard a cracking sound infront of her, she lowered her head and searched infront of her in the direction she had heard the sound, blinked once and charged forward with a loud roar, the giant cat crashed right into the ground with its face first, her back part being nearly lifted up before they crashed right into the ground,
Oh god she felt stupid as she glanced up at the leet looking at her, she could swear it was laughing as it ran off. she stood up and shaked the large heavy body to get all grass and dirth off her furr, licking her paws.
"right, this im not going to tell to anyone" she grumbles low to herself and stumbled off and towards home.

The door opened slowly to the appartment as she came back home, cancelling the saber form and ofcourse crashing right into the table, plates, knifes, forks, spoons flying in all directions and a bowl of butterscotch landing right on top of the back of her head as she lands finaly on the floor. she stands up quickly and looks around before she suddenly screams loudly in frustration, she heard a low chuckle before a big tounge starts licking off the butterscotch off her, she turned around and saw a another saber, obviously a advy morphed she thought and grinned.
"Bad day huh?" the saber said, she nods quickly "uuuuhuuu!" she sais and kisses the saber on its nose and walked to the bathroom for a shower.

[Falikos]

((Quick in-flight post! Be gentle!))

Katelin sits in her pajamas at the dead center on her bed staring at a tube of paste with an intense expression of annoyance on her face. It didn't make her happy to hear some of what Foos had told her, or Stan... or even Hans. Medical opinion is one thing, but the rest was very hard to hear. Maybe if Quan had been there in person it would of been funny, rather than hitting her quite so hard.

Grabbing the ointment she screws the top off with force, pausing to smell it before rubbing some into her left arm. The rich scent of notum fills the air as she flexes her elbow slowly. The effect is immediate and she bobs her head to the tube in defeat.

Squeezing a liberal amount into her palm she smears a thin layer over her other arm. Her mind begins to wander as she smears more of the paste into her skin; chest, stomach, and legs...



"Ever just feel like keeping something to yourself? Maybe it's just me, but those seem to be the moments where everyone can just tell something is up. Then there are the opinions; some of which are bigger than others and never in short supply. Not that the advice isn't welcome, mind you. Its nice that they want to help. Stan especially was a surprise, there's a nice guy under all that fur...

Still... it would be nice if I wasn't surrounded by a cavalcade of people who can *smell* when something is wrong. Talk about insult to injury, how about adding a little ****e to the embarrassment. Maybe I should talk to Tower to see about some kind of blocker.

Not that it changes anything... Bottom line Kate, get over it before it kills you. Stubborn doesn't help with something that's never going to change."

[Bubbacrush]

Standing up on the tip of her toes, Nadija looked over Towerblocks shoulder to get a better view of what he was working on. "What is this," she asked. Without even looking up, Tower instinctively kept at the device. Pushing a button on the table, a small carbon fiber crystal cage descended to cover up what appeared to a lattice of streaming notum crystals, which were still growing as the cage snapped at the bottom.

"This is a basic unformatted model of a memory core. It was designed to house an AI, but its not complete." When the application had sprung to life, he took off his non-reactive gloves and peerup up at his assistant through a series of mechanical lenses. They spun to life as he focused in on her face.

"So, were having little robot babies then, I take it?" She smirked.

"Not exactly. It's a project that I've been working on for the past year or so. There is enough notum crystal here to grow an entire full memory core. It'll take some time, but I think its stable now. All it needs is a little love and some attention every now and then, and I can use it.. in a rather haphazard and backward way, to determine if its possible to re-enact the awakening of MICEE-5." He blinked twice, somewhat unmoved by her rather subtle smile.

"You call it this, and I call it that." She spoke plainly, as if amused by his intensity. "I think my words are a bit simpler."

"Its happened twice by accident, that I am aware of.." He snapped, ignoring her charms. "That a automaton has gained some level of sentience. I'll be damned if its not a programming thing, because if thats the case, then it would have been discovered by now. I'm inclined to believe its an external thing. Something simply just 'happened' to cause them to become self aware. Tink never really told me how Hook managed to come off that way, but this... this could mean something, if put in the correct light."

Nadija nodded briefly, and kissed him on his powered lab helmet. "Good night, Tower. Try not to fall asleep on it." She turned to leave, walking out of the main lab, and closed the door behind her.

"Ugh..." He spat silently to himself, "... icky girls..."

A woman's voice came from the other side of the door, somewhat muffled. "What was that?"

"Errr. Nothing! Good night! I won't be up too late. I jus' gotta refresh the game server before bed. And.. like.. stuff." Of course he was lying, but she never bothered to look into it too deeply.

[Agrestus]

The shuttle slowly lifted up into the air, sending a wave of dust that rushed from behind her. Wincing in the sunlight, she lowered her sunglasses and saw the hazy outline of the ICC shuttleport before her. One last gush of wind from the shuttle ruffled her wavy red hair as it boosted up into the sky. The aliens were still roaming the port it seemed, just like they had been for a few years now. She rolled her eyes at the sight of all the pointless bloodshed as she lifted up her sunglasses to protect her piercing and overly inquisitive green eyes.

A shuttleport guard walked up to her as the dust cleared, asking for identification. She dug into the top pocket of her loosely buttoned shirt and revealed her press card.
"Lucetta Phoenix, IRRK Freelance." she stated rather proudly, with a slight smirk.

[Ahndracorvid]

The sound of gunfire was utterly deafening. Bolts of energy and armor-piercing rounds zinged through the air from the outcrop of rock where the small band of allied troops crouched, raining down onto a group of Kyr'Ozch at the bottom of a shallow canyon. The aliens, in return, answered with their own array of weaponry. The occassional sound of a thrown grenade marked the only change in the constant din. If it hadn't been for the headpieces they were wearing, hearing their leader through the racket would have been well-nigh impossible.

"Hey Rookie!"

Kit didn't stop rummaging through her pack of medical supplies, but grimaced on realizing she was being addressed. "With all due respect, Commander Delaney, I'm new only to these Outzones. Not to combat in general."

The green-armored leader pulled her assault rifle back from a gap in the rocks and turned to face the medic. "I don't care what other experience you have, if you haven't faced these aliens before then as far as I'm concerned you're still a rookie. I keep telling people, not everything they've learned before applies to these things. Don't think when you first turn up that you know what you're doing, because you don't. They're not gonna be like anything you've fought before."

Kit ran through a mental list of previous adversies. No, the Kyr'Ozch weren't on that list. But she was betting some of the other things that were would have come as a surprise if she'd shared them. Not that she was about to.

"And you can cut the formal stuff, use my callsign here not my rank. I hate that thing anyway."

Right. 'Denali', not 'Commander'.

"Anyway, as I was gonna ask, are you just about ready? The replacement team'll be here any minute and that boss of yours wants you outta here ASAP."

Kit threw the last few items into her pack and closed it, nodding. "You talked to Rayne?"

"Yeah I did. Seems you're needed elsewhere."

"The incoming fog?" Kit guessed.

Denali gave Kit a look. "We call it 'Halloween.' You'll learn why pretty quickly. You've been warned about it already, I hope."

Kit nodded again, shouldering her pack and pausing to check the clip in her pistol.

"Good. Because it's where you're going. I want you to take these guys--" Denali gestured to indicate a number of the allied team on the outcrop. Two Clans, two Omnis, and a Neutral. "--with you when you move out. They're scheduled to be rotated outta here when the replacements show up. Tell 'em to report to the Unicorn recruiter in the hub and remind 'em to get some rest before they come back. They're gonna need it."

A yell from one of the Clan team members interrupted them; the replacement team had reached the bottom of the hill and were on their way up. Their leader approached Denali, who gestured for Kit and the original team to retreat back down the hill.

"Stick together, and don't stop until you're through the gates. And Rookie?"

Kit stifled a groan.

"Don't give me that look, I just wanted to say you actually did good here so far. I'm impressed." Denali cracked a grin. "Looking forward to seeing you back here in future. We could always use good docs."

Kit returned the smile. "Just doing my job as best I can. But thank-you."

The air grew suddenly still. Bullets and energy bolts continued to fly, but the wind had noticeably dropped. In a few seconds the moderate breeze that had previously danced its way through the canyon died to nothing. Sensing a change, the teams hesistated in their firing and looked around. Even the aliens seemed to pause. The replacement team leader tapped Denali on the shoulder and gestured upwards. Everyone's eyes followed his.

A strange chill brushed across the very edge of Kit's senses as she looked up. The walls of the surrounding canyon blocked her view of a large proportion of the sky, but between the rocks a patch of sunlit gray-blue was still visible. There were so many firefights in the Outzones that even when the rest of the planet was enjoying clear skies, the air here would still be heavy with smoke. But even by Outzone standards, the normally hazy sky had taken on a distinctly odd hue. The air grew heavy with expectation.

A heartbeat later, day suddenly turned to night as a swathe of shadows rolled over the horizon, billowing across the sky like ink through water and blotting out the meager sunlight that had filtered through into the canyon. The teams instinctively switched to night vision. Kit could see them through the inky blackness, exchanging glances with each other that were either nervous or meaningful. Or maybe both. It was hard to tell.

"What the..." murmured one of the Omni soldiers. "What's happening?"

Kit followed his gaze to Denali, and thought she heard the commander laugh. Not the kind of laugh normally reserved for poking good-natured fun at the more nervous rookies when they slipped up and made a typical newbie mistake, but more the kind of laugh Kit would normally hear from Rayne before the Alliance was about to enter another major battle. The laugh of a being that had fought their whole life, relishing the opportunity to do more of what they'd always done, and done well. The laugh of a hunter.

The similarity was startling.

"It's here," Denali spoke at last. "That time of year again, boys, girls, and 'troxes." She turned to face Kit, and motioned once more down the hill. The look on her face could only have been described as predatory.

"Get going!"

[MrTrocks]

((*takes deep breath* here we go)) Inside the old Notum mines on Rubi-Ka Mrtrox and his friend Gavin are talking to each other while working to stay alive. "you know T, we shouldn't have to put up with this, we are partly human too, what makes them Solitus think they are so superior to us?" "I don't know Gav, they think beause we are different they can make us their slaves." "GET WORKING YOU LAZY HUNKS OF BRAINLESS MEAT!" shouted the Omni guard who was watching the miners, one of the atroxes fell as he broke another layer of rock,"Oh, so you think you can slack off do you?" "what?...no..GAHHH!!!" The atrox didn't have time to finish his sentence before the guard shot and killed him. "I have had enough of this T, I am takin this guy out now!" said Gavin as he stopped working. "RAHHH!!!!!!" shouted Gavin as he ran towards the guard with his axe raised. *BOOOM* The sound of the plasma shot echoed through the mine as much as it did iin Mr.Trox's head."Gavin....." "get back to work you!" Without hesitation, Mr.Trox turned back to the wall.


As night fell, Mr.T snuck out of the cells the miners were put in at night and headed toward the guard barracks, he soon found the room the guard that killed Gavin was in. Quietly Mr.Trox snuck in, and in one swift motion, he put Gavin's axe through the guard's chest, and as he screamed silently with his last few breaths. Mr.Trox uttered "Now suffer how we suffer"


"AHH!" Mr. Trox woke up in is Old Athens apartment "I need to find a way to stop having this nightmare...." Mr.Trox thought as he started making his coffee silently thinking "someday Gavin all of those miners will be avenged..."

[StanimirB]

Sitting in the fallen log, the moist smells and sounds of this unaccountably lush forest assaulting his nostrils, Stan took another brief glance around the pumpkin patch. The orderly groupings of pumpkins did give the impression they were planted and not as wild as one might assume. Though the huge blossoms he had wound his way through various times on his way down to this area, gave every look of being random and wild. And huge. Was it all the water down here? A more temperate climate? The notum that tended to saturate the area even this far south of the ever booming notum cannons to the north. Even this far south.... he could feel the vibrations in the ground from their nearly constant thrumbing as they sent their loads up into orbit.

24 hours ago, Kate was telling him about this area. And the lack of people. An area she had a contract near to fix some equipment. He promised to come check things out if she had not checked in by now. She hadn't.. and he was.....

As accustom as he was to the deserts around Tir, this lush and moist forest land in the far south of Clon****, was almost painful in the assault upon his senses. As overwhelmed as his senses were by these smells, he did catch a slight... very slight trace of Kate's scent. Yes.. she had been in this area. Standing up on the log, and slightly shaking his fur back into place.... he quietly and effortlessly glided off on padded feet, following the now quite faint scent he was picking up on the breeze.

[MrTrocks]

Standing around a Clan Basic general store in Old Athens, Mrtrox was bored and pissed at the fact that he had just been sent to reclaim from an omni "employee" who had gotten lucky that Mrtrox had depleted his nanobot cloud before he had seen him. Mrtrox was about to go to his apartment and find somethin to do there when a strange little man walked through the door.


"This could be entertaining" Mrtrox thought as he saw the strange little man go by. Walking up to him the man said "

Hello I am Speranza, I ust got here from Earth and was working at a Omni Mine op..."

Mrtrox pulled his blades and casted his challenger right when the word Omni Mine came out of his mouth.

"You listen, and you listen good Speranza, I am from Earth I was workin in a mine there and I suggest you shut your trap or choose your next words carefully because this will become VERY VERY bloody and you say hello to Mr. Reclaim."

Standing in what appeared to be amusement Speranza said

"Ohhhh I am sooooo scarreeddd of your blades.....anyways I was saying I was sent here from Earth and I switched to clan from being an Omni-Tek "employee" to a rebel when I saw how they llived here. I was saying that I heard of a Atrox escaping from a mine after killing a guard and then fleeing on a ship after he apparently got revenge."

Mrtrox stood there with his blades still drawn and towering over the little man, he reached into a backpack and pulled out a shirt that had Omni Mine Corp. printed on the top and back with the numbers 81095 written on the back.

"This.....was my unform...I avenged my friend Gavin by killlin that guard. He was killed for no reason like many of the other Atroxes in that mine......."

Mrtrox paused.."I killed that guard to avenge Gavin, my first friend since I was born in tht tube, me and him took an oath when we were only 2 that if anyone would ever mess with the other we would get revenge.. and that is what I did. Now if you tell anyone what I told you today I will hunt you and killl you. You got that?"

Speranza stood amazed at the story that the huge Atrox had just told him.

"Yes I got it."

"Good now get that meatball thing out of my face or I will rip your head off." Mrtrox turned away and wiped a tear from his face and wiped it on the bloodstain on his shirt. "wow..." was all Speranza could mutter from the story he had just heard.

[Mandavel]

Bulbous knees impacted on the sand as Mandavel knelt down, resting his muscles and taking the time to listen to the silence. Grasping a handful of sand, he let it sift through his fingers and cascade to the ground again, listening to each grain as it fought to obey gravity. He glanced out at the horizon of the forest and felt the slight breeze, listening to the trees sigh as the wind caressed the upper canopy. Taking a deep breath, he rose and turned to face the smoke and fires of the recently conquered mining site. The shattered metal constructs still smoldered, still bearing memory of the battle which took place several hours ago; he was alive yet, and had survived another day. The momentary peace was deafening, though he felt a reluctance to disturb it.

The construction crews would arrive soon to clean up the wreckage and place new temporary investments. He turned to view the forest again. The rest of his squad had already been transported back to Old Athen, yet he chose to remain behind to keep watch and give early warning of any delayed attack. Perhaps it was just the silence he yearned for. At this point, it scarcely mattered to him... He was receiving both options. A friendly voice hailed him from behind. "Are you coming home?" Mandavel smiled, still maintaining his directed stare into the misty forest. With a calm and seemingly exhaustive grunt, he took a deep breath. "Yep. Let's go home."

His vision blurred and the soft sounds of the wind degraded into electronic garble as he was assimilated into the cold circuitry of the grid.

[Towerblock]

Bodies lie everywhere as Bubba approached the remains of the village. A faint flutter, choked back by years of pain reflex, rippled through his heart as the dead were strewn about the center of the tent circle like so many bags of hewn wheat. The smell of blood was heavy and as thick as warm resin near the piles. Scavenger birds crew and circled in the air above, as if temporarily set at bay by the intruders approach. This was the third village that was completely pillaged in the past week. This time, there was plenty of evidence to suggest that the bullet scoring was fresher then the others. Bubba nodded in sullen silence, knowing that the their slayers base could not be far now.

Another shovel of dirt flew over his left shoulder, as if heaved by a heart gaining too much heavy over time. The sweat stained his painted face, and stung his eyes with every broad shouldered throw. The pit was getting deeper by the hour.

No one in the wilderness teaches things like this... like how deep you dig a grave for over 30 bodies of people or creatures you only met once or twice. Bubba made an alliance with this tribe over 3 months ago, full of vigour and ready to lash out at a common foe. Now, the still figures seemed to loom at him in the sun, as if the shadows were a constant insult tugging at his mind. Could all this have been avoided? Unlike humans, the Rhinos share no system of reclaim. It is alien to them, and very much a heresy.

It is one of the defining things that keep us at odds. We so desperately keep the chaos of our own lifes so daintily contained and tied up with little cute yellow ribbons, safe with the knowledge we can live our full adult lifes without any sort of fear of death. These creatures however, never could accept that fate. It was against the great sacred hoop of their life.

Kinda ironic, how it mimics fears that Bubba now carries. The fear of death. It is so close, its space exists between every breath now.

Bubba wiped his strained brow with a stray cloth, wiping some of the red blood lines he had earned while locked in combat with the Wartusks. They were also serving a reminder that heroes are not just the ones that fall and get back up in combat, but a testament that the dead can still tell tales, through those around that still remember. It was a mark of being close to the divine nature of what makes humans what we are. In tales, our mundane lives are as god-children.. leaving lessons for the future of our children, and our children's children.

Stories so ancient... like that of The Ghost Grifter.

"Back to work, you old fool.." He spat into his hands and lifted the shovel again. The Grifter still walks today, and will continue until vengeance is met.

Bubba smiled, release getting closer behind every corner. A thought in the back of his mind.. Best to dig two graves, right? Isn't that how it plays? The giant-kin Atrox pulled the shaman's blade across the back of his arm, and offered thanks to both of the suns. Droplets splashed against the dirt inside, sanctifying the ground with the blood of a warrior chosen by them. These deaths will not go unanswered.

Time has already told, but now only time will see. Life has a funny way, like that. Lifting his bulk from the pit, The Ghost then set to the task of stacking the corpses of the fallen for proper burial.