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The Crossroads
Topic Started: May 7 2010, 11:19 PM (7,025 Views)
~beflexor~
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I just _____ in the _____.

"Oh," Lorrilal said, noticing Ronnie was awake.

She was silent for a while, listening to him and then reflecting. "We've been caught in some crossfire before too, but that's not how my mother met her end. She...she committed suicide about two years ago, when I was around five. It was only minutes after Trisha died, but even before that Enigma had been hiding from us all. She was changing rapidly, and didn't want anyone to see. I think what pushed her over the edge was really Trisha."

Though her expression was blank, her hands had curled into fists. "She never expected to give birth to me, and accidents happen, I know. Still, Enigma had given everything to Trisha. Trisha was meant to be the final harbinger of our race, the one that would preserve the Fae in some small way. Enigma saw me as little more than an accidental occurrence. With Trisha gone, Enigma must have figured she had no more purpose to hang on it. She left me, and I buried her body all by myself in a cold, dripping cavern that reeked of her unwashed habits for weeks. I feel as though I should be angry, or at least have the right to be."

Something caught the bright, artificial florescent light of the room, reflecting it back into Lorrilal's eye for a moment. She seemed hypnotized by it for a moment before looking up at Ronnie, "May I...?" before waiting for a response, she ran a finger over the small pendant. "Who is this person? I have learned a great deal of things before, and sometimes have even a little bit of knowledge to work with, but this image draws a complete blank. It is...very unusual."

~

Trisha wasn't a particularly popular name, and was usually short for Patricia. Nick had never once come across any other woman who used the name Trishadarian however.

"You knew Trisha?" Nick said. "I know a lot about her. We-" he felt his legs weaken at the memory of her, and sat down on the floor. "We were part of a crew for a long time. We met completely by accident. She mesmerized me. She swept me up in her wings and took me away from everything I knew, into a world I had never even known existed. I've heard tales that describe her as an angel, to me though, she was more like a faerie."

He sighed, smiling, "She always had this gift, this ability to touch people. It's like she was so pure and earthen, that you could help but want to protect her. There's so little of that left anymore. It has nothing to do with how the Federation made her, she was simply...created that way. It didn't take long before I was caught up on her dance. Oh God, the way she would dance, I can't believe I almost forgot that. She didn't even need music, sometimes we would all just sit around, and the sound of her bare feet brushing against the metal floor of the cargo bay was the only music we needed..."

Nick looked up at Aryon, dashing away tears he didn't realize he had. "S-sorry, I suppose you mean more solid information. I have a feeling I can trust you. People, well, like you-" he gestured to indicate Aryon's skin "-are what she was, experiments. I thought I was too, once, but that's not important at the moment. If you knew Trisha then you must have known about her ability to manipulate the forces of reality, bend and shape them, right? Well, what few people know is that the Beflexor, the device on her hand, actually had nothing to do with it. The device was only a tool that made it convenient for her. Her ability was a natural phenomenon, unfortunately it also made her unstable."

Strangely, talking about the simplistic manner of her death was easier than the rest, Nick found. He continued, "the Federation tried coming for her again, making a big plan of it. We were all caught up in the surprise. Someone shot her but...something odd happened, it was like her whole body sort of disintegrated. Not like what we saw with Squirt's. It was more like dust. She died and her body went supernova, simply turning to ashes afterwards. I keep them with me everywhere I go," he reached into his shirt and produced a tiny glass tube on a string. Inside resided what looked like golden powder. "I have no idea what this stuff is. It's not magnetic, doesn't react to anything. Scans show it's an unidentifiable material. It's not even made up of anything on the basic table of elements."

He tucked the remains away. "Simply put, Trisha died, about two years ago. Because of her dimensional manipulation abilities, her body was unstable and finally ceased to function."

~

Ben shook his head, "Oh I don't mean anything about the mafia. I mean us. The deserters, forsaken, failed, unknowns. We don't have any true purpose to anyone other than to exist, so we make our own purpose." He then thought of something a random girl had said to him once. Granted, it was in bed, and it had turned him on to no end at the time, but it still managed to stick with him, "The X in the equation."

When Jimmy spoke again, especially given his previous thoughts. "Not really. Hell even I'm not entirely sure she's my girl in that sense of the word. We grew up together, you see? I taught her how to read and write even when I was still pretty much a kid myself. You teach a girl the ABC's, you don't generally want to jump in the sack with her. She's been like a sister. Though there were times I might have seen the potential for something more, I guess I was too afraid to even ask if she ever felt the same way."

Ben shrugged, "I'll never know, she's dead. Sort of," he added, his gaze flickering to Trisha's room, where there would be dozens of copies standing in the dark. "Besides, there's another woman in my life now. We don't see each other often, but when we do, sparks fly. I do literally mean sparks fly too. I brought her flowers once and she tried to kill me with a welding torch. She's a mechanic, travels a lot, that sort of thing. Goes by the name of Aiko. I have a nice surprise waiting for her when we meet next. Is Trisha my girl, in that particular way? No, nor do I think she would have ever been. That doesn't mean I'm going to just sit back and watch Ronnie ravish the soulless clone of my adopted sister. Also, he kind of strikes me as the kind of guy who's been punched in the face a lot because of his involvement with women, I wanted this one to be special. Maybe I should have shoved a Hallmark card up his ass instead, think that would have gotten the point across?"
Someone made the mistake of letting me publish a book, check Dusted Here!
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((OOC: Pom, I just had the Tikarez blindly jump since Fiera was going to do that anyway. If that's a problem with something you want to do, just PM me and I'll edit.))

Val'Azor had stared at the static-filled transmission sent by the Salty Dog, then dismissed it with a wave of his hand. It was nothing more than mere distractions.

Or so he thought.

A few minutes later, its malicious purpose had become clear, causing him to frown immediately - and then smirk. They were playing that game... he thought to himself silently.

His only immediate orders were to engage the network defense programs, while he fiddled with the control set on his chair, which reported back the network status of the Tikarez.

Its report indicated that the worm was rapidly multiplying through the older systems of the ship - including the jump drive network - though its rate lagged when it came to the more sensitive areas and data archives. Here the worm was quickly isolated and exterminated before its second, more destructive command could be initialized. This command, however, still remained unknown to the crew of the ship.

The other areas were not so lucky. They soon became bogged down and unresponsive to most orders given, instead reporting back at a snail pace, though the defense programs were rapidly keeping pace to free them up. Val'Azor estimated that they could have the situation cleared in ten minutes, tops.

The nearest corporal frowned.

“What is it?” Val'Azor asked, almost nonchalantly. “I trust the little rogue software will be exterminated from our systems soon enough”

“Well, yes – it should,” the pirate paused, slightly emphasizing the 'should' in his sentence. “But, it appears there's also been a remote communication channel opened to the Salty Dog, for-”

“Ahh...” Val'Azor turned back to the viewscreen. “Clever of them.” His eyes narrowed. “Cut it,” he barked.

“Well-” the corporal shifted his eyes. “That's the thing, that part of the communications software's been bogged down...and uh, we can't now.”
“Fine,” Val'Azor's tone was unchanged. “If you can't close it, send them a little gift of our own through their back channel.” He tapped a claw against his chair. “Though I doubt it will get far, given their ship's age, but... something purely destructive should do the trick. You know where that software is, choose something.”

“I know just the thing,” the corporal added, then turned to his terminal. “One other thing – I'll have to bypass the communications network for this, connecting from this terminal instead.”

Val'Azor gave his agreement, watching the viewscreen once more. The Salty Dog was highlighted there in full, its presence so close to his grasp.

The rebels were almost too much trouble to deal with for what High Command would give him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of heavy laser fire greeted L'ankan's ears, and with that, he knew he hardly needed to say a word. In two quick strides he had moved to the nearest infirmary door – which was locked – and kicked heavily at it. It took three kicks for the Zebesian to knock it down, but he had done so in less than a minute, then hurriedly moved through the gaping door frame. The gunfire down the hall was beginning to peter out, leaving them with little time.

L'ankan was the first to enter the dimly-lit infirmary, and missed seeing its only occupants at first. Swiveling his head to examine the room, the messy state of it jumped out immediately, then...

He half stared. Then quickly narrowed his eyes. A human?

She didn't appear to be armed, and indeed, almost looked to be a doctor.

But looks were deceiving. He knew that. What was she doing there? He raised his gun at Alana in an instant, the serrated claw of it gleaming.

“Well...” He hissed, advancing towards her. “What is... dare I say, a human doing here?” His question was very much legitimate, and he felt that the threat of gunfire would surely speed up her answer. Flicking his eyes to the bed she was near, he noted that it was the only one with a patient - and then did a double take. The occupant was unsurprisingly a space pirate, but it was Cottonmouth, the captain of the Salty Dog. He looked unconscious, though L'ankan had no idea what his real state was.

“...and with the captain no less?” The expression behind his silver helmet was of puzzlement, but he didn't lower the gun. If anything, he advanced closer, with the rest of his squad close behind.

Whatever her answer was, L'ankan knew he still needed to get the bridge, whether there was a human there or not. Yet, with Cottonmouth practically captured for them, at least one thing was going well.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The last of the drone's firing rang out through the hallway, forcing Lieutenant Na'ruten to hurry his pace. He had just given out a response to Sy'thikrus's explanation, and it was an explanation that seemed perfectly plausible.

Yet... He couldn't help but feel that there was more going on.

Na'ruten shook the feeling of apprehension away. He had other things to worry about.

T'kran's words echoed down the hallway suddenly, making him and Sy'thikrus quickly cover the rest of the distance to the rogue pirate. The burnt wreckage of the aerial drones were evident before they were even there, and the view was disheartening. They were supposed to have put up more of a fight than that.

He scowled, then immediately froze when he saw T'kran a short distance away. “Hrmph,” was all he managed to say, slitting his eyes at the rogue. “I must say,” he tilted his head at the wreckage. “I thought they would offer more resistance.” The lieutenant drew the rest of his weapons up after this comment, then glanced to Sy'thikrus, certain that he recognized T'kran as well. “... make sure to only cripple him," he whispered to Sy'thikrus.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The virus from the Tikarez was inconspicuous in the flood of information being sent to Fiera from the ship. It rapidly attached itself to the terminal she operated, then started its main program.

Onboard the Tikarez, Val'Azor waited impatiently while the corporal closed down his terminal. Both were unaware of the jump drives silently activating - this status failing to get past the block set up by Fiera's worm. The only indications were the jump coordinates lighting up, as that particular subsystem had gone by relatively unscathed from the attack. The coordinates, however, were unset.

Val'Azor noticed this a fraction of a second before the drives fired, flinging the ship into unknown space, potentially thousands of light years away.
Edited by Emperor, Oct 3 2010, 07:40 PM.
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~Metamyth~
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"Simply put, Trisha died, about two years ago. Because of her dimensional manipulation abilities, her body was unstable and finally ceased to function," Nick said plainly, the emotions of the statement seemingly tucked away along with the ash-filled necklace, not to be seen.

At the statement, though, Aryon felt a pang of remorse. Though he had always heard that Trisha was no more, he privately hoped it was untrue, and that she was just on the run, in hiding... This confirmation left him with an uneasy feeling.

A few moments of silence passed before Aryon spoke again. "...I owe her my life. When she escaped the Origin, she knocked my cell open, helped me out. Not many made it out of there, some of my closest friends didn't make it to the pods in time. I..."

His voice quiverred a bit, trailing off as he tried to keep his composure. Slowly, he took a deep breath, exhaling as he continued to speak. "...I just wish I could have repaid the favor. But now, I really can't. I mean, I even met her once, aboard the ruins of the Origin when it was found again. We didn't really get much time to speak there, let alone a chance to repay anything."

As memories started flowing again, he shut them out and sighed. His demeanor changed, almost physically, as he focused on Nick again. "Look, maybe we should think about what to do next and talk about Trisha later... I mean, really, what are we supposed to do? You just recently released a envirotoxin into a crowded space station, and I get the feeling we should be a hell of a lot farther away from the mess right now."
"Nothing... a shadow is nothing. It is merely a question not yet answered. We only fear the dark if we have no means of lighting our way.

Death comes to all, Morningstar. The world turns, the dawn comes... and under the light of the sun I shall slay giants."


Dresden Codak, Dark Science
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+Aiko+
Roffel House!

The engine room of any ship typically pulsed with life. Most of a ship's power was diverted to the energy hungry drives that propelled the vessel through the vastness of space. To a ship, the crew were ants, maintaining everything in proper working order and peak efficiency.

The creature wrinkled its nose in displeasure at the state of the heart of the ship. The only throbbing was that of radiation which threatened to kill even it, and already its body was feeling the effects. Weakness, dizziness, unsettled stomach... all were symptoms of acute radiation poisoning. Normally this wasn't a problem for the creature. It had, after all, evolved on a planet fraught with radioactive materials, but things were different now. The creature itself may be fine in this environment, but the body it currently inhabited was not. Despite all the steps it took to protect its host from damage, there was little it could do to prevent any damage from occurring.

Deoxyribonucleic acid simply didn't like radiation, and the essential building blocks of its host was breaking down into basic amino chains. Only constant attention kept the creature from suffering irreparable damage, but it was energy demanding and tiring. The creature couldn't stay here long.

A small hammock was suspended across the ceiling, an oddly mundane sight in such dangerous conditions. The creature climbed up into the comfortable mesh and tapped a claw against one of two monitors embedded in the ceiling. It didn't want to disconnect power to the engine, but repairs simply couldn't be made safely without doing so. They would be sitting ducks even worse than they were already while it worked, but they had no other option.

It hopped down once it assessed the areas needing repairs, and quickly got to work. It didn't hear the proximity alarm of a jumping ship until the Salty Dog bucked like a mule from the turbulence. It snarled in frustration, then got back to work, nursing a rapidly healing, but cracked and bleeding skull. It didn't have time to worry about the others. Its job was to get the ship running again.

--------------------------

A dusty pillow in an empty room seemed to have a life of its own as it hopped off a small basket set to one side. Underneath was the small, six-legged lizard, looking quite groggy. It stretched its mouth wide for a large yawn, revealing three rows of sharp teeth in its upper jaw and two along its lower jaw. It snapped its mouth closed, then stretched out to its full, two-foot long length. Its tail twitched in thought as it surveyed its surroundings. Its eyes locked on the door that was cracked open, and with a chirrup, it hopped out of the basket and left the room.

It walked down the narrow hallway like it owned the place. It stuck its nose in and out of rooms, looking things over until it was satisfied, then it moved on. It sniffed the ground, apparently seeking something in particular out, and stopped at the door leading to the room of Trishas. It eeked a little whine as it stared at the locked door, then continued on its way. Finally, it arrived at the room with Lorrilal. It hissed in surprise as it smelled blood, then appeared with a snap on the bedframe beside Ronnie. It looked up at Lorrilal, squeaked something it apparently thought was of some import, and sat on its haunches with a huff when she didn't respond right away.
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~Bloody Pom~
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Unfortunately for the counterattack the Pirates had unleashed, Fiera had made sure to isolate the console she was using from the rest of the ship's network. They weren't just dealing with some rebel with a basic knowledge of programming. In fact, the very idea that their ship's security had been compromised by what they considered to be a floating scrapheap would have been enough to make them realize that.

Fiera simply couldn't think as slowly as them even if she tried. But even that wouldn't stop the virus from sending the communications console completely haywire. She made sure to disconnect her own personal terminal before it was infected, but the computer she'd been using was a lost cause.

"Crap. So much for that idea." Fortunately for her, her plan HAD actually worked. The entire ship had rocked like a galley in a heavy storm as real space closed up the gap left by the Tikarez' sudden disappearance. "Or, maybe not. Gentlemen... and lady..." She grinned slightly at Grace; It HAD been her idea, after all. "Our uninvited guests have just taken a leap of faith into the void."

-----------------

"What the hell just happened?"

T'kran wasted no time picking himself up off the floor. The sudden wave of turbulence had caught him - and likely everyone else - completely off guard. He'd been unaware of what Fiera was doing this entire time, instead solely focusing on clearing the ship of intruders.

Two of which had just happened upon him.

"Finally. I was wondering if you were going to hide behind machines all day long." T'kran was a faceless menace to the two, his features completely hidden by armor and a narrow, faintly glowing red visor. He was a horror unleashed by the very scientists that had found the ship, that had turned on his former masters and become one of the first to ever openly defy the Legion's will. "An officer and his pet Hussar... one wearing a collar, no less. How fitting." He paused for a moment, an unfamiliar female voice, silent to the others, filling his ears. And the voice brought news that made him grin.

"Well, if you want to capture me, you may have to wait a while, and even that's only if you succeed." His arm cannon went dark, the scythe on the other arm instead beginning to emit an acidic green glow that would have been familiar to any Pirate working in a mining facility.

"That ship you arrived here on? They just jumped out of the system. How typical of the Legion. Abandoning their forces the moment something messes up their plans." T'kran dropped into a readied stance, bringing his scythe up in front of him. "Enough talk. Come get me."
"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company

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~CrypticOcean~
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Sy'thikrus heard the Lieutenant's orders, and saw the worthy opponent who stood before him. He snorted at the Aberration's insults, activating his own scythe that crackled and blazed with a violent, deadly crimson energy. He, too, was naught but a faceless armoured figure, save for his armoured clacking mandibles, and his two pairs of eyes that clearly blazed in the darkness. Deep grey was his armour those orange lights and visor creating that strange, rusty glow that emanated from him. In spite of his opponent's intimidating stature, Sy'thikrus stood taller still. He raked his scythe against a nearby wall, the blade running through the material like a hot steel rod through rotten flesh. Crimson bolts of energy crackled and flared as the molten slag dripped from the ruined wall. He settled into a readied stance as well, scythe at the ready. He spoke his piece.

"Ha! I am marked for death as it is, Gladiator. Regardless of their actions, I am damned. I care not for trickery such as droids and the like. Were it up to me, I would have butchered every last one of you with my bare hands. You, however, will be a true challenge. To simply kill you would be a waste. ...Although I know you understand that neither of us shall show any mercy. It is just you and I now. No tricks, no droids, just blades. But, as you said, enough talk." he chittered with sadistic glee, the fact that his Korakk Beast had left along with that ship had yet to cross his mind in the anticipation of battle.

Moving with a powerful burst of speed, he hooked his scythe to strike at T'kran's side that would be the most difficult to guard. He was ready to go on the offensive if the blow was somehow parried, the serene berserk of his battle fury slowly taking hold before first blood.
Edited by CrypticOcean, Oct 10 2010, 12:06 PM.
That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even death may die.~"Much discussed" couplet from a certain tome.

"Hoohehehahahaha...AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
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Alana grumbled as she locked the med lab door, though to be frank, she had little faith in it holding despite what T'kran said; he didn't seem to be aware of its lack of maintenance. Nervous and feeling extremely tense as she moved about the room, Alana wished she more than just her syringe gun to defend herself if the time came and someone threatened her and the patient. Sadly, even if she had more than that, she wasn't a fighter, and a skilled pirate would have her on a skillet.

Nonetheless, she went on with the operation, doing her best to ignore the sounds of laser fire as she began to take out the first black 'tumor.' It was a strange pulsing growth not unlike the sample she had, only it was more rounder and sported an eerie red spot; almost like an eye. Placing it in the large vial she had placed next to the other sample, she quickly sealed the opening with her medi gun and began to cut into a different section of Cottonmouth's body where her next target was.

Things were going better than she hoped; the operation hadn't been that problematic as she had feared, and already she had taken out three out of four of the growths, the last one being much larger than the rest. It even squirmed as she took it out, as if fighting to get back into it's host...or, at her. She was sure.

And just as she put the sucker into it's respective container -the other having grown significantly over the time of the operation, and all have weird red dots on them except for the sample - that's when a pirate burst into her room. She was actually about to yell at him for interrupting her operation, opening her mouth, when she instinctively realized this wasn't the same pirate that was a part of Cottonmouth's Crew. She could just read it in the armor and the pirate's posture even before he spoke.

“Well...” He hissed, advancing towards her. “What is... dare I say, a human doing here?”

Alana stood frozen there by not just the site of the gun, but rather the threatening manner he gave her. She was in a very bad situation where she felt like death had it's sickle on her chest, then...

“...and with the captain no less?” The expression behind his silver helmet was of puzzlement, but he didn't lower the gun. If anything, he advanced closer, with the rest of his squad close behind.

That was when Alana mustered up the courage and said in defense, still stuttering, "D-don't you dare harm the patient?"

She gulped as they came closer, Alana's mind frantic and look for anything that might help her, but all she saw were guns pointed her a-

There was a squeal from the table she had placed the Ing 'growths' - in fact, several shrieks, and her head whipped around to see the creatures squirming inside of their containers as if trying to get free. And to her fright, they did; it was like on of them had a sudden growth spurt, cracking the glass from the inside. Being so close to the containers caused the rest of them to fall over as it broke free.

All of the black creatures hit the floor in some kind of larvae form with the exception of one looking like a worm with on it's stalk. All of them slid quickly across the floor, all of them slipping through whatever nook or cranny they could find - except for the long worm-like creature, which bolt strait at one of L'ankan's comrades.

It was quick like a snake, and wrapped itself around the pirates before it could even react. Even as the pirate attempted to grab and rip it off, black, living liquid-like tentacles shot out from the worm's and wrapped themselves all over the pirates body, pulsing along with the worms body like the black tendrils were blood being pumped into its prey's body.

The pirates armor went from a dull steel color to a pitch black one in less than a second, and in that same moment, the pirate began to go berserk.
"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."
— Monty Oum
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((OOC: Will do an update on the Tikarez later!))

"D-don't you dare harm the patient?" the woman spoke, tangible panic in her voice. L'ankan laughed harshly at her. He laughed at her, the captain; at all of it. It was all suddenly laughable, yet at the same time, remarkably in his favor. He took one more step forward, about to fire...

A high-pitched shriek interrupted him, then something shattered nearby... and in a fraction of a second the situation nose-dived from what had been close success.

Several containers had fallen, and they had been holding something, which was now scurrying across the floor. Its coloration would give away its nature to anyone who knew of the Ing; L'ankan had only a brief moment to notice this, but notice it he did. Spitting out a few unintelligible words, he snapped his arm down to fire at the Ing.

Before he fired though, they were already gone, having run out of sight through cracks in the floor. Except for one. One that was much larger, and almost seemed to be surveying the area. L'ankan fired at it, the greenish rounds from his gun lighting up the shadows, but it leaped away with remarkable speed. And then attacked one of his soldiers.

Audibly cursing, L'ankan barely had time to give a warning to the pirate before it reached him. And the result confirmed what he had been fearing – they were, in fact, Ing.

Then things exploded.

The possessed pirate had fired, rather inaccurately, a barrage of flammable rounds at the remaining two pirates, which ignited portions of the infirmary and shattered several more containers. L'ankan hastily side-stepped out of the way, dodging the rounds, and yet found himself hesitate to fire. He tried to shake the feeling off, it was too late for the pirate!

Even the ship seemed to rock as smoke filled the infirmary, blotting out sight of the others.

He paused. The ship was rocking, and quickly. It threw him off-balance into a nearby wall, though he caught himself from slipping off. What the hell...? he thought, and almost spoke.. It was almost like-

*CRASH*

The possessed pirate hadn't been lucky enough to catch itself. It had fallen into a pile of machinery from the turbulence... which was on fire from its own rounds. Then it shrieked as the fire caught up to it.

L'ankan hastily moved further from it, hoping the fire would be enough to immobilize it for the time, all the while its shrieks filled the room.

He spotted the corpse of the last pirate in his squad, a sight that filled him with anger again. Now he knew - it was just him left.

The smoke from the fire was acrid, but he was able to spot the captain of the Salty Dog as well. He was still unconscious, yet remarkably free of any damage from the ensuing chaos. L'ankan didn't see the human there, and the noise from the ing had died down. “I hope you're happy...” he hissed through the smoke, barging his way towards the captain on the table. If he could just move him somewhere...

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

“Liar!” Na'ruten hissed at the suggestion of the Tikarez leaving them behind, the chaos in the infirmary going unheard of. He didn't bother to check on the actual status of the ship, either - the turbulence he marked off as the Salty Dog's own instability.

After all, they wouldn't leave behind their second in command without a word, the Lieutenant thought and knew. He had received no such contact.

At the same time... there was a slight nagging doubt in the back of his mind. It didn't last long, and he quickly squashed it. There was no time for doubt.

The metallic screeching of scythe on metal rang out through the hallway when Sy'thikrus raked the metal wall between the infirmary and the hall. The area was illuminated with the glow of molten metal. Na'ruten stood rigid, anticipating the enemy's move while the other pirate spoke, and then in a flash Sy'thikrus struck out. The officer traced the movement carefully, even as smoke began to leak into the hall, along with audible shrieks from the infirmary.
Edited by Emperor, Oct 23 2010, 04:00 PM.
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+Aiko+
Roffel House!

(OOC: Lemme know if this is alright, CO. ;-)

The creature sighed in relief as the final repairs to the engine were made. Thankfully, it had been well on its way to fixing the engines in its human form, and the added strength of increased muscle mass had made the repairs go that much faster. Within a half hour, the engines were once again humming with life, and radiation had plummeted to barely safe but tolerable levels. As soon as the engine block itself was sealed with a few new welded panels, radiation throughout most of the ship had disappeared instantly, especially with the simultaneous initiation of environmental controls when power finally coursed throughout the ship.

It was tired and grouchy, even more so than usual. It spared a thought for its comrades in arms, calling up a display to see just where the fighting was. It was momentarily confused when it learned the truth behind the former turbulence. It absently rubbed the long-healed bump on its head when it realized that the Tikarez was no longer showing up on sensors. Strange. Was this some weird scheme of the pirates, or had Grifter managed to strike up a cease fire? It certainly couldn’t hear the sounds of battle amidst the thrumming engines.

It immediately called up the locator beacons of the Salty Dog’s crew. Familiar icons blazed on the holographic interface, showing T’kran, Cottonmouth, Grifter, Grace, and the handful of other crew the creature cared little about. Grifter and Grace were both on the bridge where the creature had left them. Cottonmouth was still in the medical bay, with T’kran just outside. The creature’s hackles rose when it noticed that several bright red icons indicating the remaining attack force were inside the medical bay. With radiation down, nothing was stopping Grifter from sending reinforcements to T’kran, but the creature didn’t want the remaining attack force to gain the advantage of holding the captain hostage. Although the gesture was ultimately futile with its… particular species… on board, there was no telling when the Tikarez would return, and the inevitable stalemate between the bridge and the medical bay was a delay the creature would prefer to avoid.

It ground its teeth together in frustration, but finally decided that the energy expenditure of defending the captain was worth the possible rewards. Besides, there had to be a trail of bodies it could capitalize on.

--------------------------

Under the blood-thirsty satisfaction of battle, Sy'thikrus felt an odd, impending sense of irritation and unfinished business. The feeling was strangely external to his own will and didn’t interfere with his fight with T’kran, but there was a tightening in his chest and stomach he couldn’t ignore. It was like he needed to be inside the medical bay, right now. There was something wrong in there, something that needed to be protected, and slowly but certainly, the need to fight with T’kran ebbed into a unwanted distraction.

Stop.

Sy'thikrus didn’t hear the angry, distorted snarls over the intercom directed at T’kran, telling his opponent to quit wasting time and get into the medical bay. All he could hear was that deafening voice in his head.

Defend him.

Although no name was given, there was no doubt the voice was talking about Cottonmouth. The need to follow T’kran into the medical bay soon became overpowering, and the more he fought against it, the more his body seemed to obey the unwanted commands. Already, his ankles were rotating his feet towards the medical bay door…
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~Bloody Pom~
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“Liar!” snapped the smaller of the two pirates opposing T'kran.

"Don't believe me? Radio in, find out for yourself. They were scared of what you uncovered on this ship. They fled with their tails between their legs, and left you all here to rot!" Then, Sy'thikrus charged. The renegade pirate's dark armor glimmered with the orange glow given off by Sy'thikrus' vandalism, and the smaller of the two easily twisted and shifted his wiry frame to parry the opening strike, his body jolting from the heavy impact.

"Marked for death... you think I don't know the feeling? They couldn't control me, and I slaughtered them all. The only reason they want me back is to recover what I stole from them before they kill me. No matter..." T'kran backed off suddenly, sidestepping the hussar and bringing his blade up to carve into his opponent's torso. "...better to die free than live as a slave! I'd be doing you a service by killing you!"

Regardless of whether his attack struck Sy'thikrus or not, he withdrew afterwards, taking heed of Aiko's growled instructions. "Well, seems you'll have to wait for your fight. I have more important matters to attend to." He was somewhat bemused by his enemy's sudden hesitance; it gave him time enough to issue a single instruction to the glowing device on his shoulder:

Emergency Purge.

Whatever energy was left over from T'kran's absorption of the drone weaponry, was suddenly and violently purged through vents in his armor as a wave of concussive force and a brilliant flash of light. The two pirates' optics, which were likely adjusting for the dim lighting, would no doubt be temporarily blinded by the flash, the invisible wave of force pushing anything not bolted down away from T'kran, and causing nearby bulkheads to buckle in several places.

By the time the light faded, he was gone.

-------------------

L'ankan should have looked behind himself. He might have noticed the flash of green amid the smoke.

"Ah ah ah. Back up if you enjoy having a head. The captain's not in any condition to be disturbed right now." cautioned a low growl of a voice from behind the pirate, who probably would have taken note the scythe hovering inches from his throat by now.

"Human." Obviously referring to Alana. "Are you unhurt?"
Edited by Bloody Pom, Oct 19 2010, 04:45 AM.
"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company

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