Kate first taste of combat. Kate was suspended in the air by some strange force, thrashing about trying to grab something, Anything! Then as if gravity were turned sideways she was thrown down the flight of steps she had just bounded up. She crashed on the first step and thought she heard a crack! The move produced so much force, what magic was this!? Toppling down the stairs she didn't stop rolling until she hit the lamp stand at the end of the room. She was fast, she was agile, she was smart, but she was no tank, and was pained all over. Moaning she struggled to her feet, something was wrong. One doesn't know fear until one feels a third of their own brain shut off. She hit her head trying to jog it back on, what was wrong? A normal EMP shouldn't effect her! She was starting to panic. She made a shrill scream at first unsure of what to do, a frightened beyond anything she had ever endured before. She tried to summon Nate to her side but that could only be done with her mind which felt paralysed. She stumbled toward him and falling to his side activated him manually, and hugged him dearly. "I didn't want this. I thought this was supposed to be a nice world." she cried shedding a few frightened tears. But then another thought came to her. What about the man she was fighting? was he still out there? was he coming? She struggled to her feet and trembling, slowly, headed for the back door her bolt pistol in front of her.
Aeros Aeros climbed into the Human’s spacecraft, unsure whether or not it could even fly, and hoped to glean some knowledge of its operation as he studied the instrument panel briefly. I’ve never seen this technology before. He thought to himself. It’s so… primitive. After some familiarization, Aeros energized the ship, and with a loud, clattering roar, the thrusters alighted, and the vessel began to lift itself, hovering tenuously three meters above the ground. Looking again to the instrument panel, he searched for the spacecraft's navigation system. His eyes finally land on a small, crystal globe embedded in the panel. A magnetic compass! I’ve never seen this before, and what possible use could a compass be on the moon? There are no planets nearby with bipolar magnetic fields. Except for… the Earth? Aeros looked from building to building, and quickly orientated himself, pulling the throttle of the spacecraft until it climbed upward. He engaged the ship’s stern thrusters and powered the 3,000 meters north to the source of the evacuation beacon. I hope I make it in time. The archaic ship, with much effort, soared over a row of shelled-out skyscrapers revealing, in the intersection below, a small UEFSF humanitarian all-purpose vessel. Aeros pushed the ship higher, and completed a full round of the landing zone in preparation for setting the it down. He cautiously swooped lower, and surveyed the area. What if this is a trap? What if they’ve already been overwhelmed? I’m in no condition to fight. The old spacecraft continued to lower itself into the landing zone, now just 30 meters above it. As Aeros looked down, he saw several figures emerge from inside the vessel; one was wearing the flight suit of a UEFSF humanitarian pilot. The pilot had lifted their eyes to Aeros' incoming ship as he searched for a radio or transmitter in order to contact them with his intentions. The human’s ship had none. No radio? That violates Interspatial Vessel Codes… where is this ship from? He brought the vessel closer to the ground, and more rebels rushed from the ship, though Aeros quickly noticed that they weren’t looking at him. Their weapons were drawn and aimed toward a street on the vacant intersection. Aeros’ eyes followed the direction of their weapons, and from his vantage point, he saw four soldiers in large, metallic suits slowly approaching the sequestered rebel ship. Judicators!!! Aeros’ role in the rebellion as an infiltrator led him to know more about the NCF’s weaponry and personnel than most. He had heard of the fearsome warriors that the Fathers called “Judicators”. Allegedly impossible to kill, the only thing one could do when facing a Judicator was run. Even then, survival was not guaranteed; indeed, survival was not even likely. They continued their advance on the evacuating vessel, and the rebels held their ground. They’ll all be killed! Aeros thought. Aeros looked from the rebels to the judicators. They were 50 meters away from the humanitarian ship, but they were moving faster now. Aeros, thinking quickly, violently thrusted the throttle down as far as the helm would allow, and his vessel plummeted the remaining 30 meters to the ashen ground below. His ship steamed forward. He was on a direct collision course with the Judicators.
Three points on the minimap in the corner of his vision blipped, indicating that they were approaching. "We're closing in, Shorty." Arun heard Riley's voice in the speakers of his helmet. Pretty soon the area would be surrounded by nearly fifty NCF soldiers and the four Judicators. That cargo ship wasn't going anywhere. The rebels still kept their weapons on him. He counted four in front, and two more around the back of the aircraft. It seemed that his message had gone unheeded. If it came to it, he could probably take out all six by himself, but that was up to the others. He had to disable the aircraft. Kerys' voice came into his helmet, "Smoke screen coming your way in 5... 4... 3..." Arun looked to the sky. Another aircraft was hovering above. No, it was coming straight for him, in for a crash landing. "No, wait," he commanded, and quickly drew the handgun at his waist. Immediately shots were fired, some missing him completely and the others ricocheting off his armour as he rolled a good few metres to his right. The shuttle that was in the sky only moments ago now crashed where Arun was standing. Smoke and debris flew everywhere and the Judicator braced himself on the ground. The men that were in the alley filed out shortly after, guns ablaze, taking refuge behind the fallen shuttle. Arun got to one knee. There was too much smoke to see what was happening. He turned on the thermavision in his helmet. One of the rebel soldiers was down it appeared, but the others seemed to have moved to the side of the aircraft. It would provide them with enough cover, but that was all it would do. Looking to his right, Arun could see Kerys, the only female Judicator among them, entering the battlefield. Her squad of twelve troops was behind her, firing at the aircraft.
Indira Blue Another explosion rocked the tunnels. The battle overhead was heating up. Based on the direction of the blasts, it seemed as if the Rebellion was losing this city. They were being pushed back and would probably call for a full retreat any minute now. Cowards, Indira thought as she and about a dozen comrades made their way through the city’s metro tunnels, guided only by flashlights and a tattered old map. They soon came upon a badly burned subway car. Its walls were scorched black and charred corpses hung from the broken windows. Indira paused to inspect it, but ultimately decided it held nothing of value. They continued on. Black Death’s resources were drying up. Indira and her men were running low on ammunition and weapons. Food was easy enough to scavenge and she was more than capable of looking after their medical concerns, but arming themselves was becoming a problem. They had resorted to scavenging household chemicals from bombed-out stores and brewing their own improvised explosives. Bombs were easy enough to make, but guns were becoming increasingly scarce. If we could just get our hands on one arms shipment, she thought. Just one. Black Death was a lot smaller than most of the NCF and Rebellion squads. With just one crate of weapons and ammunition, they could continue fighting for months or a year. Indira raised her hand and signaled for everyone to stop. They halted under a rusty ladder, leading to a manhole to the surface streets. She could hear the sounds of explosions and gunfire overhead. They were directly under a heated battle. “Here’s what we’re going to do…” Indira said and explained the plan to them. Her strategies were always detailed and left no room for loose ends. The men listened closely because they knew if anything went wrong she would just as quickly kill them as she would any human. Indira had zero tolerance for failure. Her commitment to absolute victory is what had made Black Death so successful. She was the reason NCF generals couldn’t sleep at night. Ten minutes later, a human woman crawled out of a manhole in the street. She was beautiful, but dirty and wrapped in a tattered cloak. She made her way toward the shrieking beacon and found a transport craft waiting there, as expected. That ship would take her straight to a Rebellion base. But there were also Judicators. If they had their way, the Judicators would take her staight to hell. Not if I take them first, the woman thought. She had never had the pleasure of seeing Judicators in action, other than vids from other worlds. She had never had the pleasure of killing one... The woman tapped her hidden earpiece and whispered a message to her comrades. "This is Plague Leader to Apha Squad. Do you read me Alpha Squad?" Of course they did. "Situation has been elevated to code J4. Monitor my position, maintain proximity, and await further instructions. Over."
Kate, psy linking. and Angry Right when she was about to open the door to her massive relief all her sensors came back on. She sighed with relief, back to her old self again. Her heavy breathing and trembling stoped as calm hesitantly crawled back into her mind. It was then she realised something. Psy programers are linked to machines they own perminantly and can tell when even the tiniest damage is done to them. "Strange...My ships damage rateing was only 55% before now it's 60%?" And it was climbing fast! The stats in her comp brain showed the parts being damaged as it happened; her ship was desprately sending an S.O.S signal to her. "Hope is all that is left to remind me of my family...and that stupid elf is wrecking her! I said he could use her not fly it into a building!" All her fear left her. She got up, and suddenly bolted for the door completely forgeting the elf she had been fighting, and the sniper. Outside she preformed her class feat psy link. Sending signal to her Ship with her comp brain she wrenched control of it from Aeroes, the metal plates protecting the computer side hummed silently, working hard. Her voice crackled on a scratchy intercom were she began yelling at Aeroes who was still inside. "Is it customary for elves to wreck other peoples stuff! What the hell are you doing to her? driveing her into the ground! That is it!" Now she was in control, complete control driveing the ship with her mind. First things first she activated the ejection seat, launching who ever was inside a good 20 feat out of Hope. She thrusted forward blindly trying to take off but smashing right through the evac site mowing down three rebel forces and cliping the wing of Kellys space craft leaving the worlds biggest scrape. Her ship spun wildly knocking down tents, other veichles before blasting out of the evac site and right into five NCF troups and nearly crushing an ajudicator who managed to roll in time. All the while she was yelling through her intercom. "Ya how do like it when I reck your s***, JERKS!" Then finally the choas ended, the ship, sputtering rose into the air and flew off in her direction.
Kelly McKeller A screeching sound filled Kelly's ears as a ship scraped across The Deliverer's hull. "Thats it! We have to go!" She yelled to the troops out side. She re-attached her oxygen mask and helment and jumped back in the pilots seat. The screen in front of her showed approximently 50 heat signatures surrounding her ship. None of them were emmitting the signal of Rebel troops. NCF. They found us. "We're being surrounded, we have to go!" She charged the engines and the 4 remaining soldiers jumped back in the ship. "There are still more survivers out there." One of them said into her radio. "I know. But if we don't move within the next five minutes...we won't survive long enough to save more." "Einson!" One of the leading soldiers yelled. "Grab that automatic gun in the back. Keep those NCF thugs busy." "Yes, Sir!" The soldier jumped in the back grabbed a weapon almost as big as him and began laying fire down on the troops approaching from the left side. The other 3 soldiers laid fire down on the right side. Any survivors would have to approach from the front of the ship if they didn't want to get hit. The beacon gave 4 warning whistles. The nearby survivors only had four minutes before they were left behind.
Doctor M "Lay down your weapons and no one will be hurt!" M could hear from outside. It was a judicator. One of the people responsible for his parents death. Two of them had attacked his parents. They killed his mother but his father had managed to take one out before the other killed him. Two on one, it was never going to be a fair fight. Could M risk going out to attack them? His full pixie form vs a judicator would be a pretty even match, although judicators rarely came alone. His plans were interupted as another ship crashed into the ground. Where the judicators had been. M doubted it had killed them, they were tougher than that. "Thats it! We have to go!" Kelly yelled getting back into the pilot seat. The nearby soldiers clamberd back inside as one took up position with a large gun. M's gland flared up as he picked up a rifle. Time seemed to slow as he aimed out the back and fired a few quick shots into the smoke. The sound of NCF troops hitting the floor followed shortly after. M fired the rifle until it was empty before switching to his shotguns. "We don't have time for the others." He said sadly. "We need to go."
Simon Simon didn't remember passing out, but there was no other way to explain the fact he was suddenly surrounded by four other Exterminists, and was out of the building, too. They must have seen his flare. He looked around at his surroundings. They were on a hill, different from the one they had started sniping on, and there was no sight of the girl or dark elf. In the distance, the Rebel ship could be plainly seen, and he guessed they were maybe a mile away from it. The blood all over his camouflage was gone as well, although it hurt a bit to breathe. These Exterminists were different from the group he was with later. He hoped they didn't know about his miss. With a small effort, Simon managed to stand up. He wasn't hurt as bad as he thought; he was grateful for his stockiness. There was a portable missile launcher besides him. "Well, what's this thing for?" One of the Exterminists answered, "Anti-aircraft duty. It looks like the Rebels are trying to sneak vermin out of the city, but we placed small groups like this everywhere. There's no escape for them." "This launcher has slight automatic firing capabilities as well," another one added, "and a magazine of 30 guided missiles, all with their targets set to Rebel ships like that one. It can puncture a few of the more basic shields as well. The NCF got tired of our early 21st century tech and decided to fund some research for this kind of stuff." Simon couldn't help but grin. After all the craziness he went through, something normal like blasting lower races out of the sky was a relief. Four warning whistles punctured the air around them. The ship would be lifting off, soon: lifting off into disaster. "Time to hunt," he said.
Indira incogito The scene around the evacuation shuttle exploded into chaos. Another ship attempted to plow through the Judicators, but only succeeded in being a mild annoyance to them. Its pilot –-an Elf-- ejected and the unmanned ship began flailing about wildly, crashing through people and equipment before finally stumbling into the air and vanishing beyond the rooftops. That just left one means of escape: the evac shuttle, which was currently under fire. One of two things was going to happen. Either the Rebellion shuttle would take off now or the Judicators would rip it to shreds and every elf, pixie, orc, and goblin inside would be slaughtered like cattle. Indira had no love for the Rebellion, but wasn’t interested in taking her chances with the NCF today. She needed to find a place where she could steal a sizable shipment of weapons, quick and easy. It made no difference who she got them from. She tapped her communicator one last time. “Final message. Now boarding Rebellion evac shuttle. Maintain radio silence. Plague Leader, out.” She ended the transmission, so it couldn’t be tracked. Then she pulled the tiny communicator from her ear and put it in her mouth, tucked under her tongue. She would be able to re-establish a connection with her team once she reached the Rebel base and found what she needed. Until then, it was best to keep the communicator hidden. The human woman, in her tattered rags, emerged from behind the pile of rubble where she’d been hiding. There were bullets flying out of the shuttle’s rear loading ramp and just as many bullets were flying right back at them. But Indira had seen ships take off in much worse conditions. She ran toward the front of the ship, waving her hands in the air, with tears streaming down her terror-stricken face. She ran right past an injured elf strapped to an ejection seat, but pretended not to notice him. When she reached the ship, there was an elf waiting at the door with a rifle, but he could see she wasn’t a threat. “Please don’t shoot,” the human woman pleaded. He gestured for to move faster. The human woman quickly climbed inside and took a seat with the other civilian survivors, where she instantly began to cry.
Introducing Aurora Redd The smell of gunpowder and fear filled Aurora's nostrils and her big blue eyes glistened with excitement. This is what she lived for, this is what was instilled in her. Hate. Hatred for the humanoid race and their resistance for death: the only thing they deserve. She pulled her goggles and intercom over her head, blowing a few strands of her bright red hair out of her face that she had tossed into a messy ponytail. She cracked her fingers after she covered her hands in her favorite gloves during massacre action, a black leather pair with spiked knuckles. The gloves squeaked as she tightly gripped the torrent handles atop the gunship Mercenary. She got into position as the pilot took to the skies. Exterminist. That's what she was and that's what she aimed to do, exterminate. "Let's get these rats, Tygate!" She called to her pilot through her intercom. "Roger that, Redd." He replied. Soon, bullets rained down from her gun, Rebels were turn into pebbles from the continuous shots from her torrent. Her blood lust overtook her and she went into a manically rage, shooting down not only Rebels but their young and their women. Tygate shared Redd's hate for the vermin so he didn't hesitate flying her over rebel-supporting civilian territory. But, amongst the peak of their flight fight, the Mercenary found itself shot down by an unseen opponent. The crash was brutal, killing the pilot and leaving Redd covered in her own blood. She had been thrown from the torrent mount and into a mound of rubble about 100 yards away. Her survival of such a crash was unbelievable. Her leather body suit was ripped to shreds and covered in blood on both arms. Her consciousness was gone, but her heart was still beating.
By the now the smoke had cleared, and Arun switched back to normal vision in his helmet. He stood low, diagonal to the front of the ship, using some rubble the surprise shuttle had blown his way as cover. He knew he wouldn't take much damage from the rifles those rebels were wielding, the only thing that could actually harm him was the gun on the cargo ship, but he didn't want to give them too much knowledge of his strengths and weaknesses. Not yet anyway, this was only their first encounter. The engine of the cargo ship hummed more strongly then ever, and the propellors on its wings whirred into action. It shook the debris off as it started to take off. Slowly. "Kerys," Arun spoke into his intercom, "Give me some cover fire." "Roger that," Arun jumped into the open and immediately two rebel soldiers fired at him from the cargo ship. The bullets flew off his armour as if they were flies. Kerys' cover fire shortly followed from behind him, scaring the rebels back. Arun sprinted forward at an unreal speed, raising his handgun as one of the rebels retreated inside. He fired once, catching the soldier in the neck. Then he was upon it. The cargo ship was now about six feet in the air, but this side was clear. Arun narrowed in on the landing gear and leapt upward forcefully, grabbing hold of it tightly. Now all he had to do was bring it down. He holstered his weapon, looking up at the mechanisms above him. They were approximately ten feet in the air.
Captain Tal “That’s it!!! We’re not standing by any longer. I need all available pilots to the hangar, NOW!!!” A booming voice thundered over the UEFSF Freighter’s intercom. Immediately, the Space Force soldiers sprung into action. The watch room was alight with radio chatter and activity, pilots preparing to launch their hyper fighters, and traffic controllers clearing air space for the assault. “All available pilots be prepared to launch in ZERO-THREE minutes! Remember, officers, this is what we’ve trained for!” The voice belonged to Captain Tal, commanding officer of the UEFSF Freighter Sundew. A hulking half-giant, Tal stood at over 12 feet, and was bound of muscle and bone. He was an imposing, intimidating figure; especially when incensed. He stormed from his post in the ship’s communication center, and hurried to the hangar where he would brief the pilots on their mission. As he raced down the extensive corridor, a voice crackled to life over the intercom. “Captain Tal, it is requested you receive transmission from Fleet Commander Admiral Ionan.” The Captain, without slowing, accepted the call, and it was directly transferred to the neuro-radio-transmitter embedded in his ear canal. “This is Tal. Go ahead.” “Captain, just what in the hell do you think you are doing?!?! You know the policy; NON-INTERVENTION! You are not authorized to command this mission!!!” “Admiral, the members of this crew refuse to stand by idly, while monitoring a genocide!!! If it would make your stars shinier, you can relieve me of my command when I am done with this mission.” “Unacceptable, Captain! The punishment will be far more sever--” Tal ended the transmission mid-sentence. I don’t have time for this bureaucracy! The rebels don’t have time! He rushed to the hangar where 24 hyper-fighter pilots waited for him. “Officers! There is little time, so I won't say much. Command has refused to authorize this mission. If you’re afraid of the consequences, leave this hangar now.” The pilots, dwarves, elves, and dragonborns, all looked at each other, scanning the room for defectors. No one moved, and no one faltered. “You lot are best pilots the UEFSF has to offer. Your aerial prowess is unprecedented; your commitment, unwavering. This mission will save lives. Each and every one of you will save countless lives today. NOW GET IN THOSE FIGHTERS AND KILL AS MANY OF THOSE GENOCIDAL SCUM AS YOU CAN!!!” The hyper-fighters shot from the Sundew, which was locked in geo-synchronous orbit over the colony of New Hope, and closed the kilometers between the freighter and the city streets with deadly speed and accuracy. Arranged in “Diamond-Forms” of 4 fighters each, they swarmed over the evacuation shuttle, laying suppressing fire over the smoldering battleground surrounding it. White hot rounds tore through flesh and bone and NCF soldiers fell like ash. Blood misted the air, thick and pink, as the hyper fighters blasted over the city, laying round after round into the scattering militants below. A hyper-fighter pilot spotted a Judicator hanging from the landing gear of the evacuation shuttle. He immediately dove toward the Judicator, switching to his 100mm rounds, firing 20 massive, high-caliber projectiles into his back. The force of the bullets nearly knocked the Judicator from the landing gear, but the strength of his advanced armor withstood the attack. Captain Tal's strong voice crackled over the fighter's radios. "EXCELLENT ACTION, officers! The evac shuttle is in the air, gaining altitude! NOW KEEP IT THAT WAY!!!"
Simon cracks a bit The Exterminist studying the Rebel ship through the Spotter's scope groaned. "A Judicator is attempting to get on board." Simon considered the fact a bit. Judicator's were on their side, but were nothing more than vermin. Well, vermin that were ridiculously hard to get rid of. This could his chance to do the impossible. "Fire anyway. We'll tell the NCF it was an accident." "Simon, that Judicator is Arun. He can disable electronics with his mind." "So?" Simon sneered, "The only electronics in the missiles is the guiding system, and our line of sight is clear enough to blast rabbits with this thing. There shouldn't be any trouble." "What about his telekinesis?" Simon had to think a bit on this one. "We'll shoot five simultaneously. This thing is basically the missile-launching equivalent of a submachine gun, isn't it? I don't think he could deflect that many at once." The excuse sounded lame, even to Simon. "Well, the ship is taking off now. Prepare to fire in-" For the second time that day, his sentence was interrupted by a hail of gunfire. When Simon got off the ground, the other Exterminists were either dead or unconscious. And of course, the scope was ruined. The offending planes were already flying away. Simon looked to the dead Exterminists, to the launcher, to the planes, the Rebel ship, and back again. He thought about his previous encounter with the girl and dark elf again. Something snapped. Snatching up the launcher, Simon took aim at the planes and unloaded twenty guided missiles onto them. He turned around and fired the remaining ten at the Rebel ship. A few bullets whizzed by him; he didn't know if they were from Rebels or the planes, but he didn't care. Nor did he care the missiles were sloppily fired and might miss; all he wanted, at this very moment, to cause as much pain to the others as possible. He immediately got down and set up a sniping position, and aimed at the Judicator, looking for any break in his armor he could find, if sniper bullets couldn't puncture it anyways. The adrenaline rush had gone down a bit; his aim was more careful than with the launcher. Bang.
Arun looked to his right. A stream of thirty missiles had been launched about a mile off from aircraft. The majority seemed to divide and spread, hunting for the new aircrafts flying around, but at least a dozen were coming straight for him. He had only a few seconds, so instinctively thrust his left hand toward the missiles, closing his eyes. If he could interfere with their guiding systems, he would be able to shoot them off-course. The tech wasn't nearly as complex as that driving the evac shuttle, so he hoped he would have enough to disable both. He locked on one, two, three, four, five. This was taking too long. Then he had an idea. Five would be enough. He quickly reconfigured their guiding to aim for the other five and opened his eyes. A mass of explosions blew just metres from his face, and Arun felt his strength drain drastically. That took more magic than he anticipated. His hand began to slip, and soon he could no longer hold onto the rail. Arun dropped nearly twenty feet, the shock absorbers in his boots taking most of the fall, but he fell on his back.
Kate A sad, sad excuse for a ship sputtered over the roof tops, smoking and filled with holes. Kate was horrified when she saw her ship Hope, steam to a stop in front of her. "Oh my poor baby are your okay?" "..." "Hush now. mommy's here" She hugged the ships nose as if it were a child with a scraped knee. Now what? The sniper was gone she was again alone on a strange world. What was she to do? Nate your the one with all the plans, what do you suggest?" Nate walked up to her now low on power, but still smiling. "What? you want me to find the sniper?" "...." That's a stupid reason, He did try to kill me." "..." "Hmmm, well when you say it that way." Her fuel rods were only 10% recharged. it would be enough to get away from here at least. She jumped into the cockpit and realised something was missing. "Right...I ejected the elf out of hope." her family photo was gone, it had been attached to her compass, perhaps the elf had took it? Her battered and bruised ship sputtered to life, and rose in the air. She was free again! and began flying away, far, far away from all the fighting all the blood. She was going to forget this day ever happened. At least that's what she wanted, Nate alerted her to hostile air craft swarming the field. They bombed and blasted everything turning people to mist, even causing the really big suite guys to duck for cover. "Time to run." She only had to think of flying forward and the ship obeyed smoking along as fast as it could, it wasn't fast enough. One of those fighter jets advanced on her with amazing speed. " Now lets see how good these guys are." She throttled forward, the fighter in hot persuite and then, she banked to the left suddenly almost enjoying her self. The other fighter jet couldn't turn as smoothly going at that speed and she was cruising away. Until five more jets surrounded her. "Well, I guess our wish for a life of bliss and happiness was too big a favour for God to answer." She sat back moaning as she was forced back to the sky fleet. "Don't worry Nate everything will be fine." She said it to comfort her self
Indira Blue Okay, that’s enough crying and sobbing. Indira prided herself on her acting abilities, but she didn’t want to lay it on too thick. Besides, excessive tears could ruin her disguise. She would revert to her true form if she got too wet. She lifted her face from her hands long enough to wipe her eyes and look around the inside of the evac shuttle, which was packed with civilians and soldiers. The tears stopped falling, but she sniffled and sobbed a little more as she looked out the window at the ruined city where her husband and child had been killed. She had already put together a phony background to match her phony human disguise: My name is Julia Smith. My husband, Clark Smith, was a doctor and an elf. My only child, Gloria Smith, 8, was torn from my arms and slaughtered by NCF troops when the city was overrun. My husband was killed in his clinic, trying to tend to wounded Rebellion troops. ‘Julia’ wiped her bloodshot eyes and ran a hand through her long blond hair. She was covered in soot and dressed only in a tattered cloak. She looked like a refugee, but this costume also had a hidden advantage: she could easily change disguises by killing someone and snatching their clothes. The grieving widow turned to the man next to her. It was an elf. To her surprise, she realized it was the elf she’d seen strapped to the ejection seat. Oh, they bothered to save you? she thought, cynically. Had he been one of her men, she would have left him to die. Nevertheless, she looked him in the eyes and began to weep once more. “I-I’m so sorry,” she said, overcome with grief. “It’s just that y-you remind m-me of… my h-husband… he’s dead…ohhhhhh” she began to sob loudly and laid her head in his lap to muffle the wails of despair. Idiots, Indira thought as she continued with the act.
Alistair awoke in an alley, one of his men standing above him, bloodied and battered. "What's going on?" He rasped. "It hit the fan!" His man responded. Gunfire and explosions erupted from everywhere at once. "I dragged you out of the street after you flew out that window. I was trying to get to the evac ship, but there's judicators working for the NCF, they have it surrounded, along with a company of Guardsmen. As soon as I pulled you in this alley, a rebel airstrike wiped out a good portion of the ground forces, and the evac shuttle took off. Then, and i don't know where they came from, rockets started flying around like mad. Even got a fighter!" The poor elf was hyperventilating, obviously paniced. "Calm down, we'll get out of this." Alistair said calmly. He couldn't imagine how, but there had to be a way. There was no way he could cast another vortex, not for another few hours. This was going to be tough. "Where are the others?" "Dead," Was all he said. "Damn." They would pay for the blood spilled today. "Do you have a radio?" Alistair's had disappeared during his fight with that girl. He couldn't believe he'd lost. It was unbelievable. The frightened soldier handed him a radio. He clicked it to a secure channel, and was about to request pickup when he remembered the Judicators. Their armor had advanced transmission suites, he would be detected immediately. The sounds of the battle had died down, it sounded like it was mostly over, but Alistair was still there. He'd missed the boat. Then he looked down the alley both ways. There was an old fashioned cargo truck, sitting at the far end. It probably still had a manual ignition. "Move out for that truck. We might be able to hotwire it." He said, then used his halberd to prop himself up. He felt far older than 207 today. He noticed then that his right arm was burned. He didn't remember that happening. Someone had applied med-gel to dull the pain. "How did this happen?" He asked. "Someone shot a flare at you." He responed. "Bastard." Alistair said and moved off to the truck. He looked out from the corner and saw a judicator about 300 meters away. He was laying in the middle of a crater, as if he'd fallen from space. They'd have to be quick. The truck was just in front of him. He motioned the soldier to cross, quickly, and then rushed out himself. The covered behind the truck. No one seemed to have seen them, there wasn't any gunfire at any rate. Alistair jumped up into the back of the truck, into the cargo hold. There were emergency rations and a crate of grenades. "Stay back here and cover us with those." He said, pointing to the grenades. "I'll go up front and get this thing moving." He opened the small window to the cabin and slipped through lithely. To his surprise, the keys were in the ignition. He revved it up, threw it in reverse and peeled out down the street. He just hoped that Judicator stayed in his hole long enough for them to get away. For a day that started out well, it had really gone downhill.
Law Enforcement Team The hyper-fighter squadron had pulled up to a higher altitude to assess the enemy's available ground weaponry, while four fighter hovered closely around the evacuation shuttle, determined to ensure its launch continued uninterrupted. The high-altitude squadron deemed a second-wave attack necessary, and began to speed back to a low atmosphere level. Suddenly, the lead pilot's radio crackled and sprung to life. "Lieutenant, I have an unidentified ship launching from the city floor. Requesting direction." "Roger," the Lieutenant said. "HF-01, attempt to hail them via radio. If contact fails, continue pursuit, and HF-23, 13, 27, and 09 will assist." "Aye, Lieutenant!" HF-01 broke of from the formation, and sped to the unidentified ship's stern. "Unidentified ship flying in UEFSF air space, respond with your intentions." Moments went by, and the pilot received no response. "Unidentified vessel, you are piloting in restricted air space. If you do not respond, you will be forcibly escorted to a law-enforcing UEFSF asset.” The HF-01 received no answer from the ragged ship, and continued to pursue it at a closer range. The vessel suddenly blasted forward and port, giving chase to the hyper-fighter. The spacecraft was surprisingly maneuverable, easily losing the HF-01 in a series of sharp turns. “Lieutenant, I'm going to need backup, the unidentified vessel is unwilling to comply.” “Roger HF-01, sending remaining control fighters.” The hyper-fighters broke from their formation, and quickly descended on the beaten spacecraft. Their speed and agility allowed them to aggressively and easily outperform the larger, more awkward vessel, and within moments, they had boxed it in, redirecting its course to the Freighter Sundew. They flew the remaining distance to the Sundew, and forced the unidentified vessel to land in an unoccupied cargo loading bay. The five pilots swiftly leapt from their fighters, drew their sidearms, and converged on the aged ship. “Open your cockpit, show your hands, fingers spread, arms above your head, or we will open fire!” A large dragonborn with deep red scales ordered. The cockpit of the vessel slowly opened...
Kelly McKeller Shots rang across the hull, explosions shifted the ship from side to side...aside from that the flying was easy. Kelly grimiced as she pulled on the throttle, trying to get altitude as safely and quickly as possible. "Clear the doors!" She yelled into her mike. She counted to five then flipped a switch and heard the doors to the cargo ship close with a thud. The metal shield over the glass was still down. She needed to get further away before she put it up. "Deliverer, this is Bravo ship one of the UEFSF. We're covering your retreat." "Thankyou, Bravo ship. Wasn't sure we could have lasted much longer." With that Kelly lifted the blast shield and soared away from the battle. They were still several yards away when a warning signal began flashing and beeping. The fuel tank had been hit. She barely had enough fuel to land with. "Hold on...this ride is about to get bumpy." She said over the intercom. The woman in back began wailing even louder. "Base this McKeller, clear the landing zone. I'm coming in hot." Another warning light appeared. The stress on the engine was getting to be too much. "We hear you, McKeller." It was Jarnar's voice. "Zone is clear. Medic's on standby." She didn't reply. All her concentration was on landing safely. 500 feet. The engine began to sputter. 300 feet...She powered down non-essential functions and began landing proceders. 20 feet, the engine cut out, the blades winding down and the ship touched down with a less then comfortable landing. Kelly let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and said calmly into the intercom, "Welcome, everyone, to Rebel Base 12." The cargo bay doors opened with a hiss and Medics rushed in, pulling out the injured survivors. Kelly jumped out the cockpit and removed her helment and mask. Her long brown hair flowed over her shoulders and she instinctivly brushed it over her pointed ears, hiding them. "I think that's the scariest landing I've ever seen you do, Captian." Jarnar, the oger, rushed over and clasped her on the shoulder heartily. She almost buckled under the weight. "I'm just grateful the engine held out as long as it did." She bent over to inspect her ship more closely. She gasped at the damage it had sustained. "Think you can fix her?" She asked worridely. "We will certainly do our best, McKeller." He smiled and nodded, "We'll have our best engineers on it in no time." "I forced to leave some men behind. It sounded like there were judicators in the area." Jarnar nodded and patted her on the back. "We lost some, and because of you, saved some. Don't let the deaths of those you couldn't save bear you down. Instead, honor their deaths by continuing in the work you are doing." "Thankyou, Sir. I'll try and remember that."
Kate, in awe The cockpit slowly opened they could hear voices inside. The accent was thick and certainly didn't sound like any one from new hope. "You didn't tell me it was a bad idea." "........" "No, no you were egging me on the entire time! Now we're are in trouble." She was debating with her auto sapien when she noticed every one starring at her. Smiling awkwardly she raised her hands looking innocent. What must they have thought this strange human girl, a little short with skin so pale it would have seemed she never saw the sun all her life. Still there was a beauty to her. "Um...sorry?" It was then she spotted the dragon born, she yelped at first looking a little frightened of the man. But it soon faded away as she Marvelled at him. "Whoa." She looked to her left and there was a giant lumbering by. "WHOA!" She said instinctively pointing at it. She eye'd every one of them no matter what their race with the same level of awe, Then remembered to put her hand back up.
Law Enforcement Team “Keep your hands in the air, human!” The dragonborn growled. Speaking into his neuro-radio transmitter, he said, “The pilot of the unidentified vessel is on board. Female, mid-twenties, light complexion. She has a cyborg with her. Male, same age and complexion. Vessel description is as follows: No known form-factor, no vessel registration numbers, unstable condition. It appears to be an alien vessel. Should we detain her for questioning?” He paused momentarily. “Wilco.” The dragonborn stepped forward slightly, keeping his pistol trained on her. “Slowly, deliberately step down from your ship.” Kate complied, cautiously stepping out from her damaged craft to the highly polished metal floor. “Keeping your arms parallel to the deck, palms facing up, turn around.” She followed his direction. “Now place your hands behind your back.” The moment she placed her hands behind her back, the dragonborn was silently and suddenly behind her, securing her hands to each other. “Officer Vishal,” he said, turning to a small, female pixie, “See to it that this cyborg is temporarily de-energized.” She smartly replied, “Roger! You two,” she said, pointing to her fellow officers. “Retrieve the high-output EMP.” The dragonborn turned to Kate again. “You are officially being detained by the United Earth Federation Space Foundation. You have no right to trial, as you are not being arrested at this point in time. Your detention will not exceed forty-eight hours provided it is observed that you are not a threat to yourself or others.” With that, the dragonborn gently, but firmly, led the bewildered human out of the vaulted hangar, and down a series of extensive passageways. Kate was finally led to a large, solid metal door. “This is officer Mostel, delivering detainee 004 to main detention bay 01-2.” With a hiss of pressurization, a cold wind burst from below the massive door as it lifted quickly, revealing a long, gleaming white hall of transparent crystal holding cells. She was led to the cell nearest to the door, placed inside, and her hand straps were removed. “You can wait here, for now. The captain will want to speak with you.”
Kate Now she was a prisoner, and Nate wasn't with her. She paced the floor trying to keep her self calm. "They won't hurt him, don't worry he's fine," She told her self. Everything she saw was new to her, it excited and frightened her at the same time. The captain wants to meet with me, what should I say? she thought to her self. Then an idea came to her. She began scanning the room with her comp brain, she didn't know what they would do to her so she had to be prepared to break for it if push came to shove, as she scanned another throught came to her. "wait a minute. did that man just say he was with the united earth federation space foundation? Ha! well they sure have done a good job with earth." She definitely had questions for the captain now, and she vowed not to show any fear in his presence.
Bringing Freedom to the Merfolk "Left, right, left, right!" A gruff, scowling man commanded the Merfolk. The native people were blue-tinted, tentacled, once proud faces staring down. Disgusted with the Merfolk, rather than themselves, all of the NCF scum lead the way to the transport. Once they get to the transport, all of my people will be caged, transported, put to work, and killed. We have been very peaceful and homely to all visitors, but sometimes you can't take kindly to trespassers. Sometimes, there is a need for violence. Although, it's not violence if only one person does any damage. I watch from a distance, hiding in the air right before them. Successfully, I have learned to separate my oxygen form from my Merfolk form. "Are they all loaded up?" One of the drill sergeants asked. Talking about us like garbage. "Well, we've got a fatality over beneath this tree. Other than that, there's nobody." The other man kicks my body, thinking that it has no life left in it. Exactly what I want. "Bring the body aboard, just throw it in the trash pile. We want this place to look nice for our human vacationers." The command given with such a cruel smile makes my job far too easy. No more improvisations for getting aboard. The sound of sand being parted, lifted, dropped, soothes me. Even though it is my body dragging through, if I halt my vision, I can see my people walking by the shore through the soft sand. Everyone is caged up, my body making its way up the stairs. Those times have ended, the only way to bring them back is to get on that transport before it's too late. A swishing noise sounds, the air shifting, boarding me on to the plane. Two hard knocks on the side of the transport, followed by an assuring yell, "Good to go!" Wurrr, ssss, swooosh. Lift off. With the ship, and the plan. Remaining in my air form, I scout ahead up the stairs. Two armed guards at the top stairs. I slide beneath the doors to two rooms, across the hall from each other, down from the guards. A guard in each room. Eight guards around a meeting table, speaking about who they turn my people over to. Three pilots in the cock-pit. I keep a mental map of it all. First thing’s first, take out the guards on the bottom floor. Slipping back into my body, a rustling noise is made as I adjust. A nearby guard snaps his head in my direction. Dismissing the noise as a bug. I am stock-still. Too close. Almost silently, I roll over to the side of the garbage pile. Signaling for all of my nearby Merfolk to be silent. Rather than staying silent, they signal me to hide in the nearby shadows between the cages. One brave one whines to the guard. Looking closer, it is my father. “This cage is awful! It smells bad, my food is disgusting!” He throws down his crumbs of bread. An angry looking guard storms over. “You think you deserve that bread? You think that you have the right to throw it down, rather than savor it? You ungrateful son of a-“ He shakes his head. “You really are fiends…” My father looks disgusted, “Would you like to come closer? Say that to my tentacle face? You capture me away from my wonderful home, my wonderful family. You give me these filthy leftovers. How would you react differently? Rot in Hell!” His voice is weak with age, but his words are meaningful. The guard walks right up into the cage. “You just wait until the final judgement. Us humans are in the right! We are doing our jobs in cleansing this Earth of scum like y-“ I had enough, I bring down the bottom of my crab-clawed rapier down on his head. Instantly, he passes out. Muttering some sort of gibberish. “Looks like the final judgement has sooner than you thought. I would wish you luck, but I really want you to eat your words.” I whisper my small morale-rallying speech before slowly bringing out my crossbow to his temple. Loading in a nice pointy conch, slowly stretching back the string. -click- “No mercy.” A hole opens up on the side of the guard’s head, a tunnel straight to his brain. All that I see is the shell though. “Now, this body is going into the trash pile. I am going to get a key to free you all. Wish me luck.” I bend over and take the guard’s .44 magnum. “Just in case.” I re-assure. Now for the stair guards. A mind-crippling shuriken would do just fine. If I aim for the leg, the effects will kick in, while the shuriken stays un-noticed. A vial in my satchel back contains exactly the right tools. A shell with just the right point, to be drenched with my mind-crippling poison. I drop down to my stomach, readying my shuriken. At the first glance of a leg, I throw my shuriken hard. The effects of my home-made fish poison worked perfectly! The effects kicking in immediately. The man starts running around, shouting gibberish. “Blosfi! Jinsu! Shoolio!” the crazed guard shakes the other one, trying to say something. “Get your act together soldier! What is going on?” At the question, the crazed guard gets aggressive. Hitting the other guard against the wall. In response, the other one instantly pulls out a .44 magnum (I guess it’s their squad’s gun) aiming it at the crazed one. Shaking it, not wanting to pull the trigger. The crazed man falls dead before the trigger is even pulled! This worked marvelously! “What is going on?!” the guard is uneasy. He is not shouting yet, but that is next. I need to silence him. Slowly, while his back is turned, I raise up the crab-claw of my rapier. Then in one quick swoop, I use the jagged edge to remove the guard’s head. Surrounding me are the two rooms, and a door to the meeting room. I should probably arm up from the room on the right, I remember seeing a few grenades in there. Knock knock. Shuffling from the other side, “I’ll be right there.” Followed by a groan. I look through the eyehole, seeing nothing particularly strange. From the other side of the door, “Yes? Wait, you are one of the- My crossbow was already lined up with another shot. A swift shot through the eyehole silences that man. Then, I simply let myself in. Perfect! Right on the table across the room is an arsenal of explosives. Scouting out a few smoke grenades, I shovel them into my bag. Into the next room I go! Walking up to the door, I remember this guy. This guy was one sick man, he has many pictures of him standing with dead creatures. He deserves one of the smoke grenades. -reeeak- I slide the door open a tiny bit, sliding the small capsule in. -beep- Smoke quickly seeps out of the cylinder. I close the door. Then I find the nearest chair, and I prop it up against the door knob so that nobody can come out. The doorknob hastily jerks, left to right. No luck. Pounding, that is futile. Coughing? That is expected. Silence, that is the goal. Another one bites the dust. A muffled voice comes from down the hall, in the meeting room. “Did anyone hear that?!” one of the men exclaims. “I heard something, I’m sure they are working it out in there.” They stay silent for a while, listening in. “Is everyone alright?” the first man yells. I just stay silent, let ‘em come. Then there are the sounds of chairs being slid, a few clicks, and hurried footsteps. I duck into the first room that I was in. Ready with my rapier held high. “What the Hell?!” the first man to arrive shouts. By the sounds of it, they saw the stair guards… Pounding footsteps run down the stairs, some move towards the left room, some towards me. By the sounds of it, two in each way. Two in the meeting room, two to the left, two down stairs, two towards me. I need to be ready. A crossbow won’t do it. Shurikens won’t hold against a gun, I need to be ready by the doorway with my rapier. -CLOP CLOP CLOP- A pounding on the door. Here it goes, just stay silent. The men outside open the door cautiously, I am propped up against the wall. They both walk in, looking both ways. One of them sees part of me, he gains a startled expression. -swoosh- I dive towards them, clipping both of them in the back with different edges of the claw. They fall forward, reaching for their guns. I jump towards them. That is when I finish them off, shoving my crossbow shells into their throats. I make sure that I hit the back of their throats just right with the points. Fear crosses their face, no apologies, just hatred. The ones across the hall are done their search, turning around and seeing the bodies of their comrades. -click –click- Both guns are cocked and ready. This is when I remember my .44 magnum! Loaded. I dive into the hall, open firing on them. -thump- They collapse on each other, but something isn’t right. Looking down, I see a hole in my right arm. They got me! Footsteps roar up the stairs. How can I fight them? I don’t even have my shooting arm. Quickly, blood flows out of the wound. I rip off one of their jackets and tie it around my wound, slowing down the flow. Next comes the fun, a smoke grenade goes their way. Followed by much coughing, gagging. It will not stop them, but it will slow them. I use the time to ready shurikens. Five shurikens lined up in my left hand. They can’t miss. As soon as I see their outlines come from the smoke, I throw the whole line of them. One hit its target, in the chest maybe. The un-wounded guard charges forward, gun a-blaze. Too bad he is shooting in the complete wrong direction… I can handle this one. I tough out the pain in my right arm, keeping it steady with my left one. I raise the .44 to eye level. I fire the remaining two shots. The wounded guard cries for mercy, he is in shock. The shuriken planted right in his left rib cage. At this point, the cowards who stayed back in the meeting room practically slam their door down. They run out, ready for a fight. I am ill-prepared. I do, however, have bodies around here. I dive to an armed body. Tearing out the gun from their cold, dead, hand. Of course, a .44… I run back out into combat. -pow- One hit. -tick- A swear of anguish leaves my mouth, the other guard fires his .44 at me. It hits the ground right next to my index finger. -swoosh, thump- My .44 flies through the air, hitting my target square in the head. He fires three shots as he goes down. Two shots deflected off of my body armor, but one hits me in the left foot. “Godd**n!” I’m going to need some more shirts. On the bright side, all that is left is the cock-pit. No armed men in there, just some oblivious pilots. I exert the last of my adrenaline into running there. .44 ready, hatred flaring. -pow-pow-pow- Three shots, three fatalities. Now, it’s time to free my people. We are taking this freedom train. In the hallway, I am halted by a crawling man. He seems to be at a loss of breath… “H-h-who….are…you? W-w-why…are…..you…d-d-doing this?” He gasps. “I am the hammer of justice, the speaker of the Merfolk. You are a fool, joining forces with supremacists. You capture my people, kill them. My reasoning is clear.” His look of fear left his almost vacant face. It was quickly checked in by an almost regretful face. Then his eyes rolled back, I gently close the lids. Saluting to the carnage of these men. Thus begins the rebellion of the Men of the Lakes.
Simon Simon didn't how much time had passed before he was found. He sat there, staring into space; the Rebel ship had escaped, the Judicator was still alive and may or may not know Exterminists had fired at him, and the missiles were still flying around out there. He didn't know if any of them had found a target or not. Simon simply mulled a bit, allowing that severing of common sense to heal itself, feeling the unnatural compulsion for causing pain and suffering dying away. To pass the time, he took snipe shots at the vermin who hadn't escaped, running around the city streets. At the moment, Simon didn't care about the NCF's rule against killing civilians not involved in the rebellion. The NCF leaders who had found him were in a skidder, a smallish vehicle that maneuvered through the use of two weak anti-gravity plates. Out of the three leaders who stood over him, the only one he recognized was Merridew. "Well?" Merridew said, "Is everyone else dead or what?" It took a lot of concentration for Simon to answer that question. He felt like a rock. "There's probably a few surviving NCF soldiers scattered around, but I think most of them are dead. My partners were killed, of course. I think the other Exterminist squads, with the rocket launchers, were killed too; I was the only one to fire any." Simon tried his hardest to keep his voice neutral, instead of angry; the killing of his comrades angered him a good deal, especially when it was the lower races doing it. Merridew muttered something about "PCs" and "unrealistic luck," which confused Simon a bit. He was pretty sure he wasn't a personal computer. Still, a small smile was on Merridew's face; he hated Exterminists. In fact, despite their recent growing numbers, a good deal of the NCF was either frightened or disgusted by the faction Simon occupied. It apparently had something to do with "ethics," but as far as Simon was concerned they were just a bunch of hypocrites if they thought killing vermin was unethical. It wasn't the Exterminists that forced the lower races into slums, although it certainly made hunting them easier. One of the leaders Simon didn't recognize spoke up. "Well, we're taking you back to base. There will be some missions for you in the future, possibly." Nothing else was said. Simon had a feeling this man was a general; they were always very direct in his experience. Sighing, he dragged himself up onto the skidder, along with his equipment and missile launcher.
Captain Tal Kate looked up as she heard the door to the detention facility exhaling sharply as it lifted open. A gigantic, neatly-dressed man in a solid black uniform approached the holding cell. He glanced over his shoulder, and the door slid open. The man ducked, and with a deep, graceful bend, he stepped inside the cell. He towered over Kate, standing at least four meters tall, and his broad shoulders measured wider than she did long. He was silent as he pulled the bleached white chair back from the table, the only pieces of furniture in the cell, and gestured to the remaining chair. “Please. Have a seat.” His voice was powerful and resonating, and Kate could feel it reverberate in her chest. She hesitated. “I said sit down.” Kate gulped, and reluctantly took a seat before the man. He looked even larger seated at the table, his swollen frame overpowering the presence of the small white room. “What business do you have in New Hope? You're clearly not a rebel; however, you don't fit the profile of the NFC. I've been told you were accompanied by a cyborg. Is this true?”
