NationStates Jolt Archive


A dangerous acquisition... [ATTN Aelosia]

Hive Fleet Sicarius
27-07-2004, 19:19
The flesh hooks quickly dug into the cracked, discoloured concrete. Anchoring securely, and swivelling its compact head to ensure it was relatively undisturbed, it began to ascend, hauling itself upwards as its muscled tethers reeled the hooks inwards. With a hiss of effort, strong, chitinious limbs hauled its elongated body through the breach, and upwards until it stood a floor above. As an afterthought, the hardened hooks returned to their shoulder rests, their function completed.

It had lurked within the embattled city of Thelas for almost eight nights now, at the very limit of its stealthfullness in avoiding capture, or engagement. Its honed senses constantly tracking and adjusting for the vague, almost random consequences this urban scene brought to a creature so unfamilair with works of shining steel and plastic.

Serrated claws dug into the wall ahead as it descended, six eyes scanning the horizon made visible through a fracture for signs of its quarry. Seeing little, and knowing nothing more, it continued downards, until jumping free it cushioned its landing against shattered metal and glass. It remained motionless for several minutes, the wide passages serving as nostrils flaring and widening as it caught scent of something both extremely enticing, and at the very same time utterly dangerous.

Leaping forward, it headed through the quietened, ghost-like steets, Around the debris of a people at unrest spurned. Shopfronts breached and burned, personal transport craft overturned and left to rot. Occasionally the trampled, and unpleasent form of a corpse remained in its death throe, unable or unwilling to avoid that which took the most precious gift, of life from cold, dead fingertips.

But this creature, this Lictor cared not. It did not shed a tear at the loss of valued humanoid life. It did not pause to remark on the tragedy of these fine city walls crumbling, and the unmistakble sound of weapons fire in the far distance. It cared only for the continued function of the Hive. Urged onwards by impleccable will, and Iron guidance, the multi-limbed, spider-like creature continued to move through the uninhabited sections with frightening speed.


The Lictor saw only in staggered crimson, and darkened blue. It could not make out the fine, beautiful sculpting of the marble statue as it passed through the empty memorial garden, and nor did it care to stop, and admire. It was unable to see rare and perfect flowerbeds open to bask in the warmth of the night, and to bloom, and nor did it care to. For this bizarre creature, whose limited world was even more so by the constraints of its design, only the ectasy of success would serve as an incentive.

As of now, it was alone. The hive could send no other with the same chance of successful penetration and recovery. If, and only if the Lictor could locate what She-who-was-many desired, would help and assistance be on hand.

A loud cry sent the creature leaping into the shadows of a broken doorway. Freezing still, it flared its nostrils with malice and intent, taking a breath, the foul odour of humanity assaulted its finely tuned olfactory glands. Looking upwards, it hauled itself to the above floor, gazing through cracked observation ports, to the creature that yelled its presence and announced itself as though a bomb had detonated in the square, and not the brazen claims of a pathetic humanoid.

"What sorta dump d'ya suppose this is!" He cried.

He was a large man, around six feet seven and well muscled. His clothing was however, not so prized. Torn and shedding in places, it was patched with whatever material had been at hand. There was little go gaze at however, that hadn't been covered with some sort of offensive weapon, ranging from grenades, what resembled a section of piping.

His footfalls were heavy, and to the Lictor, as though an orbital bombardment was in progress. He flung his heavy LasRifle from his shoulder, taking a potshot at a stationary boulder a few short metres to his left. It rolled slightly, scorched, and he gave a cry of success. Replacing the weapon, he slulked forward, scooting low to the ground as the glint of an object attracted his attention.

"This'un could fetch me a price." he blabbered, retrieving a diamond necklace. Beautifully sculptured, it was a stark contrast to the ugly incompetenece before him.

"Least ah've found something worth mah trouble'." He complained, "I ain't never gonna claim no bounty from the 'imperium if I ain't got no Thelasi Kings or nowt."

The Bountyhunter stood, stuffing the delicate find into an avalible pocket before resuming his trudging. He headed for a towering spire, once a pride of place and architecturally astounding, now forgotten and serving as little more than a target, or a place of theft. He stood short of the entrance, fumbling as he tried to push open the door and retain his rifle in his hands. Finally working out it would be more efficient to put the weapon down, he took a quick look around, and placed it down, dropping it a few feet form the ground.

The Lictor sprang into action, breaking cover, it bounded through the square, moving at unbeleivable speed. Its flesh began to pulsate as its skin colouring changed. From a dull gray, matching the buildings, it resumed its natural evolutionary standing. Dark blue tissue fused to purple carapace created a startling contrast that was alienesque to say the very least, and utterly bizarre to be truthful.

Reaching a halt, it wasted no time. Swing one of its four limbs, it speared a curved, impossibly sharp scythe ahead. A sickening sound of punctured flesh radiated through the empty street as the Hulking Lictor speared its prey without relent. It watched curiously as the bounty hunter threw his hands in the air, his reflexes forcing his hands to caress the entry wound in shock. He stumbled up, to his feet, still having not made a sound.

Beginning to pant, he struggled to remain standing. His head dropping, he caught sight of the discarded LasRifle. In a remarkably quick act for someone so greivously injured, he fell forward, taking hold of the rifle. He deftly flicked it around, and closed his forefinger over the trigger. A loud crack signalled the firing as a red burst of light struck the Lictor at the speed of light. A tremendous flash followed, the impaled man crying out as he felt the heat of the blast burn his flesh slightly.

Opening his eyes, and having felt no movement, he turned his head, unable to see the smoking corpse of the alien aggressor. Unfortunately for him, the corpse was veyr much still in life, the smoke radiating from the burned, yet intact chitnious carapace. With a howl, the Lictor followed through, spearing the bounty hunter with a second scythe just below his shoulder blade. Lifting him into the air, even as he screamed agony and pain, the creature pulled its buried arms apart, tearing the human apart in a shower of crimson and gore.

Dropping the still-twitching husk, the Lictor hissed. It had been sidetracked, yet not unrecoverably so. Bounding from the scene, it regained unity with the shadows, even as it picked up the barely noticable, near-nonexistant scent it had been travelling nearly ten days to locate. Rising its head sharply, the Lictor made a deduction, and began to move quickly accross the devestated rooftops of the area. Great chasms and crumbling ledges effortlessly negioated.



After some hours, it had finally happened upon them. They were as near to invisible as the Lictor itself could reasonably expect to manage. They occupied a tower in the centre of a housing complex. From around the view afforded made it a desirable and excellent location to occupy. They were not so crude as the now departed Bounty Hunter. Where he stomped, and yelled, and adorned himself with crude baubles, these creatures were lithe and quiet. They moved with a grace that seemed to transcend mere humanity.

Their armour was lightweight and dark, sporting the ocassional cruel hook or claw. Together they remained on the tower summit, waiting or watching for presumably the oppertunity to collect a bounty offered by the Imperium for the capture of Thelasi officials.

The Lictor was similiarly interested in the art of capture, but for the Hive, monetary gain was no motivation. Indeed, what they sought was perfection itself, and through that, the genetic material that allowed the simple building blocks of life to be modified and improved upon, until none could stand against their consumation. Pausing, the Lictor focused his energies upwards, focusing a psionic wave that quickly departed, for high Earth orbit.

Located. it simply stated, and as it was recieved, and She-who-was-many made aware, actions were laid into motion. The sole Lictor would be alone for only a short time longer. Already a bulging, chitinious drop pod had begun to make its way Terra-side. They would return shortly, with a prize that the Hive could make great use of, in their never-tiring quest to eradicate all that stood before them.

Meanwhile as this transpired above, the Lictor leapt from the ledge, and began to climb the tower...
Aelosia
23-11-2004, 01:07
The aelosian hunters were jumping from rooftop to rooftop, their agile and quick movements propelling them into the open night, finally landing in another spot some meters ahead, repeating the proccess and advancing fast towards their target.

The couple of dark warriors synchronized perfectly their jumps, looking like a pair of black hawks making a coordinated attack against a possible prey. A moment of light over the uncovered figure of one of them revealed the black skin, white hair and cruel features of a drow, a dark elf.

Finally they landed almost as silently as a fly over a rooftop, looking at a closing door of a house nearby, with no doubt a place where people were taking refuge. the people they were tracking, perhaps.

Unlike the most disciplined and standard troops of the Aelosian Spaceborne Navy Infantry, those drow were there as hunters of people, targeting civilians as favored prey and avoiding military guarded places. They always worked in couples, a male and a female, who trained together for years. If the standard aelosians Spaceborne troops were like wolves or hawks, striking precisely when and where it was needed, these troopers were like vultures or hyenas, killing the weak and sick ones.

The male smiled, as he stared at the dead body of one of those Imperium's bounty hunters that were so stupid in chasing prey properly, turning the city into a chaos. The female climbed down the wall and approached to the door, a shuriken standard pistol in his hand to check the body, signaling with her fingers to the male to cover her with his sniper rifle. The soldier, used to obey every order from the female warrior, as drow usually believed women were superior to men, took the rifle hanging from his back and took aim exactly at his partner's position, the nightvision complex and smart sight of the rifle surveying the entire scene around the dead corpse.