NationStates Jolt Archive

With the human genome already under heavy research his majesty the Emperor has commissioned Grand Admiral Alabar to start a project concerning the humans capacity for telepathy and other psychic abilities. Tests and different types of training exercises have been started to test the mind of young children. Dr. Edmund Volescu has so far found that the minds of children have the ability to percieve and study on a level adults can't, the mind has a stopping point as does the growth of the body, with God instilling a clock, telling the body when to shut off it growth. Dr. Volescu has promised that with more funding than his own private accounts presently have then he along with the leading scientists in the field may be able to develope a child whos already on the point of becoming a psychic and allow them to take the next step. At the moment the questions of wether or not this new technological study can be aplied to areas such as the military is yet to be seen. His Majesty has built for the team a new facility (http://images.google.com/images?q=tbn:cVwW9YIs8-QJ:cinemabizarre.blogspot.com/Evangelion%252002.jpg) for the experiments and testing to take place.

Doctor Volecsu looked at his report. "Are you sure these reports are accurate?" the aide nodded. " Yes Doctor, the child has evolved so to speak. After the injections he began to vomit repetedly, then he fell asleep for 13 hours strait, we thought him dead until he awoke just minutes ago sir; and the changes...sir...I think the projects goal has been reach. The boy, name I think is Jonathon, has...changed, but with it he has assumed the power to control some substance that flows from his body."

"I wish to see him."

Volescu followed his aide to the containment area. One of the mai tubes was unshielded, it was filled with smoke. "Open the vents I want to see him." Some of the other aides quickly did as they were told. The smoke cleared to reveal what was once a 13 years old boy. Jonathon ( http://spawn.home.sapo.pt/Images/Spawn's_Glowing%20Eyes.jpg) stood there, his form changed to such an extent that he was no longer recognizable. The boy looked up and spoke, his voice deep and corrupted.

-Dr. Volescu-

Volescu screamed and fell to his knees, his hands coming to his head.

-Like what you have produced?-

"Get out of my mind, you...you..you thing! AAAAHHHH!" Volescu's eyes were locked with those of the once small boy. His worst memory's played infront of his eyes. His mother breaking her broom over his arms. His older brother pooring alcohol over his head while his friends laughed. His father dragging him, kicking and screaming, to a small dark shed.

-Feel my pain Doctor-

Suddenly other memory's, not any that belonged to himself, played before his mind. A group of masked men surrounded him, they filled him full of needles. A small man plundged him into a small dark tank. A team of armed officers blowing his door down, yelling at his crying mother to shut up and move, then growing impatient at the sobbing form, shoot her in the head.

"NOOOO, PLEASE! MAKE THEM STOP! I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANYMORE!"

-Whats wrong Doctor, is my pain...disturbing you. It has unlocked for me what you hoped your instruments would. I now have the power of a God-

The images suddenly stopped. An aide had crawled along the floor to the main control panal, and touched some sensors. A gas filled the tube, the fumes enterd Jonathon's lungs.

-WHAT!-

Before he could say anymore he slumped to the floor. Dr. Volescu suddenly breathed easier. "Sir! Are you alright?" An aide was bending down next to him, shaking his shoulder.

"Yes, yes; I'm fine. I want the strongest sedative to be put into Jonathons system, once done find me a way to control him; use any means neccesary, drugs, computers, anything!" With that done Volescu resmoothed over his lab coat, and walked back to his office.

"Doctor, we've found a plant, Scientific name: Ambrosia artemisiifolia; Family name: Asteraceae. We've found that it grows with large abundance in the southern part of Thrashia's main continent. Its a common weed other than one of its properties, when mixed with hypo-glosomate we've found that the substance allows a person to be under a type of hypnotysism; able to follow the commands of a person who makes eye contact with him/her as it is being injected." The aide was smiling, proud of the solution he had come up with.

"Store it is the first main freezer, we'll use it for a back-up if need be. Find me another way to control him. How are the other members of the project coming along?" Volescu was sitting at his desk, and unknown to the aide holding a half full bottle of wiskey

"Well sir, Agatha is coming along well. We've injected the brother substance of what we put in Jonathon. She hasn't changed yet, that is physicaly, but we've noticed that while in the observation room she is able to have objects 10 times her size and weight move at high speeds in any direction she chooses."

"And Simon?" Volescu looked up at the aide.

"He's still asleep, we've been slowly injecting a mix of what we've put in Agatha and Jonathon, and yet no changes have occured."

"Continue with the project." The aide nodded and left. Leaning back and staring at the ceiling Volescu took a big swig of his bottle and wondered for the hundredth time wether or not playing God was going to damn him for all eternity.

Agatha (http://www.angelfire.com/anime4/loren_ward/gloweyes2.jpg) stood there, face hidden behind a mesh of long hair. Doctor Volescu's voice came from a loud speaker, "Ok Agatha, begin simulation alpha." Agatha looked up, several tanks were rumbling toward her, firing as they came.

Agatha thought to herself.

-Why are they attacking me? Why do they want to hurt me?- A voice inside her head answered her, "They want to hurt your dear mother Agatha, they want to kill her!"

-No! Not Momma! Noo. I wont let them!- Agatha's eyes flashed white as she brought her arms up. Around her were several large metal rods, with her mind she picked them up and with speed faster than a bullet at the tanks. Like a hot knife through butter each rod entered the tank. Within minutes each exploded.

"Begin simulation beta."

A mass of screaming men, armed with guns and swords were running at her, firing as they came. The voice sounded in her head once more. "They too want to attack your dear mother, you must protect her!"

-I must....protect my momma...I MUST KILL YOU ALL!- A white light shined around Agatha's body outline, energy flowed through her, her eyes like light houses in a dark storm.

-NOW ALL SHALL DIE- With a lift of her hand the ground erupted, smashing all the charging men into smashed bone and a spray of blood.

Volescu modded to a aide. The aide flipped a switch then quietly spoke into it. "Mother is safe now Agatha, now we can rest." Agatha's power stopped generating, her eyes ceased to glow. Once more her matted hair covered her eyes.

"Very succesful tests Doctor, shall we test Simon now?" The aide asked smiling.

"No, put Agatha back into her containment area then start the computers finding out what Jonathon will be manipulated to, his mother or something." The aide nodded and left. Volescu watched from his vantage point in the holographic arena as four guards came through a side door and led Agatha out.

'Such power...' Volescu thought.

Colonel Vinsk sat in one of Volescu's chairs. The Central Intelligence officer had been sent to review what the project Volescu was heading.

"So Doctor, how are things?" Vinsk was smiling but his eyes told a different story.

"Good Colonel, the project is on schedual and our subjects have shown great apptitude for the tests we've so far presented them to," Volescu said, he was sitting behind his desk, hands inner-locked and an obvious fake smile on his face.

"May I see the subjects Doctor?"

"Of course." Volescu led him through the facilities corridors and into the main lab chamber where Agatha and Jonathon were kept. They stepped up to the tubes that held them. Each tube was actually a small 7 by 7 foot bullet proof glass chamber. Agatha sat in the center of hers, legs pulled close to her chest, her matted dirty-blonde hair hidding her eyes. Jonathan's chamber was clouded with a black smoke that he seemed able to produce from no-where, but the heat sensors showed that he was sitting crosslegged in the center.

"I thought there were three subjects Doctor. Where is the third?" The Colonel looked at each containment room and then turned back to Volescu.

"Simon, the third child, is currently under heavy containment and I am afraid that he is also under isolation." Volescu shifted his weight to his left foot. "But if you'd like to I can show you some recorded tests that Agatha completed."

"No, no Volescu; no need. I'd rather just talk to one of them." Without waiting for Volescu to answer Vinsk walked up to the control consol and touched the speaker button. The one connected to Jonathon's room.

"Can you hear me?.....I am Colonel Vinsk, can you hear me Jonathon?.....Hello, respond." The black clouds faded and everyone was able to see Jonathon. His skin had changed from white to black, small waves; almost flame like, rippled accros his body. His eyes where a corrupted yellow as were his teeth and hair, or what where once his teeth and hair. He smiled crookedly at Colonel Vinsk. He made eye contact with Vinsk.

-Yes Vinsk, I can hear you-

Jonathon's mouth hadn't moved, but Vinsk heard the words. Images started flashing through his mind. Images he thought he had forgotten. Vinsk standing in a dark room with a gun to a mans head. Five soldiers marching a blindfolded couple to a forrest.
More images not of Vinsk's memory also began apearing. Dead men, raised from their graves accused him. A young woman stood screaming for his death as bullets ripped through her. Vinsk stood in front of a wall with ten soldiers aiming rifles at him. His brother and wife standing there, declaring him a murderer and liar.

"NOO! STOP! I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!" Vinsk was on his knees, face burried in his hands. But the images continued.

-Whats wrong Vinsk, scared of your own past? I never had a brother, did you?-

Jonathon smiled maliciously at the knealing Vinsk who had started to sob.

-I could end your life you know...do you want that-

"NO PLEASE...PLEASE ANYTHING! NO! PLEASE"

-But I think I would be doing your brother a favour if I avenged him, as well as his beautiful wife...who you murdered; or how about that young corporal who saw you do it and then paid for it by being dragged into a dark cell and shot-

A pain grew inside Vinsk's head. His heart raced, it felt like it would explode. Then suddenly it stopped.

Volescu, who had been calmly standing by watching, had finally motioned for the aide to turn on the gas, and Jonathon once again slumped to the floor, unconsious. Vinsk stopped sobbing, and after a minute stood up; still shaking though.

"Colonel, are you alright?" Volescu had a cold smile on his face. He'd never liked Vinsk, for he had ordered the firing squad to shoot his younger brother, who had joined the fleet, for making an small error.

"Ye..Yes; Yes I'm alright," Colonel Vinsk said, his voice very shakey.

"If you will follow me I will see that the labs physicion take a look at you." Volescu led him from the room. One of the aide could have sworn he'd winked at the now sleeping Jonathon.

"Sir, we are ready to begin Simon's testing. Shall I notify command that we are starting?" Volescu turned to the aide and then back at his computer screen and began typing more into it.

"No, I want to see what he's capable of before we tell command. With Simon being a mix of the altering chemicals we injected into Jonathon and Agatha, we don't know how powerful he may be. So use caution."

The aide nodded and left Volescu alone in his office.

Simon sat in a chair. He was alone in a large white room. He knew what the doctors were doing to him, but he didn't care. Men in black killing his brother and taking him screaming from his home in the dead of night, only to awaken to men in white injecting fluids into him that he couldn't begin to guess what they were. Nor did he care. A voice came from the ceiling.

"Alright Simon, the test is about to begin. Goodluck."

Suddenly the room changed, Simon was sitting in a chair surrounded on all sides by ruined houses and dead corpses. In the distance several tanks were coming toward him.

Simon knew it was nothing more than a tangible hologram. Made to make him defend himself from them, but he didn't want to. Then he heard the voice inside his head again.

"Simon, you must destroy those tanks; look what they did to these poor inosent people; you must avenge them"

It was manipulation and Simon knew it, those corpses were only holograms made only to make him think a certain way. And it was working.

Simon's body had not changed in anyway from the injections the doctors put him to. His mind changed however. He'd learned that he was able to move things with his mind, hear anothers thoughts, even create a shield around himself which could block air as well as laser blasts. And other new talents appeared as he learned the extent of his powers the men in white had given him.

He looked once more up to the place in the large white room would be Doctor Volescu, watching him, seeing if Simon was fit for whatever perverted ideas they came up with. He decided he'd end it fast.

He turned once more back to the tanks that moved closer. One fired. It seemd as if time slowed as Simon watched the round speeding toward him. Then time stopped all together. Simon walked up to the shell hanging in the air in front of him. He wondered why men built such things, but he decided not to dwell on the matter. He moved the shell with his mind back to the tank and put it back inside the barrel. He exploded the round inside the tank. Its turrent smoldered and fell off the tank.

He turned to the other two tanks which were still silently sitting next to him. He thought it and it happened. He was reminded of when he use to crush aluminum cans with his brother. Their explosions warmed him slightly. He quit holding time.

The hologram disapeared and Volescu's voice came over the speaker.

"Good job Simon, now some doctors are going to take you back to your room." Simon was escorted by a group of white clad men back to his room.

Bump *Update Later*

OOC: Any thoughts or constructive critisism about my rp? I'd welcome some input.

"Sir, from what our reports say Agatha seems the one easiest to control so long as she still believes her mother is alive. Simon is the most powerful of the three while at the same time hardest to control since he is able to recognize when he's being manipulated. And Jonathon is a mix of those two in temperments, he can be controlled but when he slips out of it he is sporadic as to who he attacks." The aide continued to deliver the evenings report.

Volescu sat in his chair as he stared at the monitor of his camera network. The screen was quatered into sections, each section showing one of the three children.

Agatha still sat silently in her room, hair still covering her face. Jonathon stalked his room in another shroud of black vapor. Simon sat cross legged on the floor with his eyes closed, a look of concentration on his face.

Volescu sighed. He was due to give a report to Admiral Alabar in three days on the progress of the children. But he hated to give up the children, he had a nack for loving what he created in his labs. Leaning back once more he picked up his coffee and sipped it. Suddenly he noticed Simon again. No longer sitting, but levitated right in front of the camera, eyes seeming to stare through the screen. The microphones in his room picked up what he was saying.

"Tell me Doctor Volescu, do you really love the other children and I?" His face was emotionless, nothing could betray what he was thinking. Volescu pressed the button for communication.

"Yes Simon, I do, it's hard for me to let go of what I have created."

Simon nodded. "Yet you do not love us, you only love that which you have created, you have shown me that by this statement you love only power...such a waste of human knowledge and strength is wasted on power. I pity you Doctor, for loving it, but I have read that in Mans history, there are always those who love power...that it eventually corrupts, for the other children and I you can see power in a physical form of sorts, while your will for more of that inside yourself will only show on the day of your death."

Volescu didn't speak. He was too afraid that anything he said might reveal or give Simon more information. He turned off the screen, stood up from his chair and left his office.

As soon as the door closed behind him, the screen came back on.

"Doctor, you've shown be tapes, you've let me listen to recorded messeges, but as yet I have not seen the children themselves in the flesh." Alabar sat in his chair, slowly smoking on a imported Cuban cigar. Volescu stood nervously in front of him.

"Yes Admiral I understand, but I only fear that the children may harm you in some way as they did with Colonel Vinsk, I heard he commited suicide?" Volescu tried to sound concerned at the last part of his sentence. Alabar gave him a hard look.

"Yes he did, a sad waste too, but non the less I am making a dead line for when I come and see them. You have 28 days Volescu." Waving his hand in dismissal Alabar went back to smoking piously on his cigar. Volescu left and returned to his research facility.

Volescu stood in front of Jonathons room, gazing into the black cloud that always hid Jonathon. Volescu pushed the comm buttom.

"Jonathon, can you hear me?" At first nothing happened, then the cloud evaporated. Jonathon stood in hte center of his glass room. His figure had changed over the course of several weeks. His shoulders had become wider, his arms becoming as long as 4ft, his height also had increase so he stood at 7ft. His yellow-black body was corded with a muscle frame that many an athlete would envy. A mess of blackened hair fell upon his back. His glowing eyes glaring at Volescu.

-Yes Doctor, I can hear you. What do you want-

At first Volescu thought Jonathon would attack mentally but he did not so he answered. "I was going to ask if you are ready to take our performance tests."

-Yes...your tests, Simon told me all about them. Interesting device that room. I will decide later wether I choose to be your monkey Doctor. Good bye-

The room clouded once again, hiding Jonathon. Volescu sighed and went back to his office.


-24 Days-

"Doctor, were running of time, you know that! Why are we waiting for the child to decide, just force him!"

"I know were almost out of time, but for Jonathon to be affective he has to do it of his own free will."

"Whatever you say, be it on your head."

-20 Days-

Jonathon stood in the holo chamber, he wove a bit of black vapor around himself, thinking of how funny it would be to look like some vampire count.

"Jonathon, can you hear me? The Test is about to begin."

-Of course Doctor, I'm ready-

The room shifted. Suddenly Jonathon was standing on a battle wasted plain. In the distance he could see twenty tanks, large ones, coming at him. He laughed.

-Doctor, you are begining to bore me-

Holding up a his hand, palm upward, he summoned his energy. With a thought he transfered that energy into his hand then shifted it into a ball above his palm. Smiling he reared back like a world series pitcher and threw it at the aproaching tanks.

The ball of energy hit the group of tanks in the center. Those within ten feet were vaporized, the rest turned to charred hulks which flew in all directions, carried by the blast.

The plains shifted. Ones more he was inside the white holo room.

"Well done Jonathon. You have done very well. You may return to your room." Volescu's voice clicked off. Jonathon smiled as he was led back to his containment room.

An aide standing next to Volescu shook his head. "What is it Darin?" The aide looked up at Volescu.

"Sir, we've made that child into a monster...so much power...and he doesn't even care."

"He cares, more than you or I know, he's just waiting until he gets the chance then he'll unleash himself truely. But until then...he is our monster."

-15 Days-

The satellites were tiny, no bigger than a cigarette lighter. Their minute masses were hidden near communication satellites, or even space stations. They were a passive array, using minute changes in position to communicate to each other. The energies flaring from the facility below had been monitored. Adepts had been found, this would interest the Company and maybe even the Gestalt. A dozen of the satellites spent weeks carefully moving into position before for the first time in there existence flaring a tiny trickle of power outwards and sending a burst of what seemed no more than minor static in the background hum of the universe.

The signal had been sent to the dark space FTL relay built into a fake emergency life support pods on the ZMI navigation buoy hovering on the edge of Thrashia’s claimed space.

The data hit the ZMI real time secure Earth data sphere. The Gestalt was contacted by an INT-SEC corporal. Thousands of possible missions were speculated. In the end one course of action was chosen by statistical analysis and profit loss analysis.

Encrypted text only point to point transmission: to Revenian Government
Re: Contract, Rogue Psikers

Author
Corporal James Sanderson INT-SEC

Unknown Psikers detected by passive orbital recon array in Thrashian research facility, External schematics and recon images attached, location attached. Warrant extreme caution as power levels are un naturally high and sustained, analysis attached.. Suspect extreme human modification. The Gestalt views this as ethically unacceptable and a direct threat. Suggest joint action upon the matter, payment for services authorised starting at 23 Million Rungs via standard electronic transfer. Mission resources the Gestalt has made available to me attached.

Attachments:
Schematics
Hi-Res recon images
Analysis of psi wave forms
Resources

The missive was received by...The Controlling Entity, analyzed by said entity, and redirected to the individual best capable of handling it. In this case...that individual was...Lord High Inquisitor Kral De'Valoran.

[B]Temple Cascadia, Pyre, office of the High Inquisitor[/I]

An imposing man with night-black hair and sparkling silver eyes read the missive intently. He was the single most feared individual in the ORA, and he looked the part.

He nodded slowly, and tapped out an incredibly short reply.

It read:

FRM: Lord High Inquisitor Kral De'Valoran, Cascadian Inquisition (RevInq)
TO: CRP. Sanderson, ZMI INT-SEC
SBJ: Joint Op

Message Begins:

Accepted. Forces en-route. Rendezvous and offload forces to our craft at (COORDS, COORDS, COORDS.)

De'Valoran Clear.
---

Then, Kral called up three people.
---
The CIS Rack, a Hearth class Inquisitorial Battle Frigate slid smoothly into TorchSpace...and it carried two of Kral's best Inquisitors...and Him.

There was:

Irian Chellavan, the infamous damn-near-full Ascended War Mage who was the only known individual to have defeated Xan the Infernal in a war of minds.

Kallisto Fade, AKA "Lady Firehair." Cassandra Fade's sister, an amazingly powerful pyrokinetic, and one of the best flamegunners around.

And finally...Him.

Reygar Talmirion, Reygar Elfbane, Reygar the Immortal, Reygar the Untouchable...Reygar Chaosborne. His long prehensile tail flickered from beneath his duster, the wildfire in his silver eyes showing the truth, that he was touched by Chaos itself.

He was one of only two Wild Psions in the Supremacy, the other being Xan the Infernal himself...and Xan was a War Mage first, and a Wilder second. Reygar Elfbane was entirely a being of Chaos...and it showed.

The leathery cloak he wore seemed odd, since he habitually wore a gray duster...then one realized that the cloak was actually a pair of demonic wings. Not that they could carry him in flight -- that would have been almost impossible, considering Reygard was six foot five, and most importantly, that Reygar was from -Revenia.-

He had Jet Black hair and lips the color of fresh blood, a large Warblade was slung over his shoulder...and he carried a barbed Whip-dagger coiled at his left hip, balancing his flamegun.

He was, possibly, the single most dangerous psionic combatant in the world -- deadly to anything with a taint of the supernatural about them. He had been defeated by only two individuals -- Kral De'Valoran, the Lord Hiqh Inquisitor and Flamebearer of the Pancreator...and Dysaryn Stark, the Lord Changer.

Not a half bad track record, all given...
---

The Rack burst into existence at the point of rendezvous, the last echoes of TorchSpace, that eerie red-orange flame spouting out about the Battle Frigate...

The INT-SEC light stealth recon cruiser “Payment Owed” blinked out of transit drive, its shock bubble partially masked by the huge quantity of shielding and absorbent materials wrapped around its drive core. A long needle of a ship her active hull gently mirrored natural background radiation, trying to match as best it could the entire EM spectrum and acted as one huge passive sensor. Slowly the thin long needle shaped ship, its hull barely visible to the naked eye as a very vague distortion of stars came to a relative halt beside the Rack its lased photon thrusters gently bringing her to position.

Colonel James Sanderson sat at the Int-Sec CO console in the cramped confines of the “Payment Owed’s command and control centre. A 5 foot 8 petite man with a crew cut hidden under his helmet his neat black immaculate INT-SEC uniform seemed out of place upon him. Sanderson however was a INT-SEC problem solver and as such his stature was the last thing one would consider in dealing with him.

His mind was filled with numbers, the wireless advanced INT-SEC implant loading hundreds of counter psi algorithms while he activated the ships intercom. “This is Sanderson, prepare for cross loading operations, that is all” his clipped accent cutting across the ships hums like a razor.

On the surface of the Payment Owed a single lens broke the semi liquid active hull and a point transmission crossed the space to the “Rack”.

“This is Colonel James Sanderson of ZMI International Security, we are ready to transfer equipment, and myself to you”


Sanderson stared for a moment at the lines of the Rack, before rising from his seat and slowly threaded between the panels and insubstantial screens that filled the cramped control centre. The cruiser was running at limited gravity to conserve power and maintain stealth and he found his free fall training slowly come back to him. He nodded to the hulking white mass of the Battle Angel guarding the room that acted as the cruisers bridge and began to head towards the light cruisers small cargo bay.

Inside there yellow synth crates and packing material the TX180 drone pack (1) waited. There simple incorruptible nano mechanical minds switched off, there deadly limbs held swaying gently to the ships motion at there sides. There armaments were mostly conventional enough for ZMI combat systems, there six arms each loaded with a needler, a gel flame thrower, a grenade launcher or a UV anti personnel laser. The former had been chosen as it was invisible to the human eye, after all how can a psiker block what it can’t see?

The drones forms were unbroken save for the silvery bulk of a neural stripper attached to there upper right shoulder hardpoint. While the minds of the drones and there purpose were similar to any other ZMI combat drone their shape was not. The six extendible limbs with thick heavy device laden segments extended from the slightly small body while upon there backs a thermoptic sheet lay rolled up neatly in its dispenser above two tiny jump jets.


Sanderson slowly suited up, his black INT-SEC combat suits armoured sections one by one clicking onto his skin suit. He slowly drew his needle pistol, stared at it for a moment then holstered it, then clamped a small mission support case containing the small personnel possessions he carried with him to a grenade clip upon his suits chest plate. He proceeded to stalk over to the rack of modified stealthy external manoeuvres units and slid it onto his back after running its diagnostics remotely through his implant. Then he then sealed the cargo bay and waited for the signal that it was time to cross.

(1) http://www.deviantart.com/view/14217068/

The signal was given, and the transfer commenced. Sanderson would find himself led by faceless Inquisitorial crewmen to one of the Rack's three troop bays. The Hearth class of Battle Frigates were designed as self-sufficient roaming 'enforcement' vessels, meaning that they had sufficient armament to deal with most forms of pirates plus space for three full twenty-five man strike teams and their equipment. As the vessel only had to carry three Inquisitors in addition to the normal crew...there was space in excess.

The crates would arrive swiftly, being placed before the drop tubes on the outship side of the bay. Other than Sanderson, there would be three individuals in the bay.

One, the one who would step forward to greet the INT-SEC Colonel (That makes a -whole- lot more sense), had short-cropped brown hair and steel-gray eyes. He wore gray flame-retardent robes, and an Inquisitorial Flame-Gun was slung over his left shoulder. The robes obscured his figure, but when he raised his right hand in greeting, the sleeve fell back enough to note that he wore armor.

In this case, it was 'Cassock Superior' Inquisitorial powered battle armor. There were only a couple thousand suits in existence, and each one of them was a holy relic. Hanging about the man's neck was the Pancreator's holy symbol (a cross set in a circle with a stylized flame rising up along the lower part of the cross,) and hanging loosely at his right hip was a utilitarian mace, looking rather like it could have been snatched straight from Earth's middle ages.

It made perfect sense, as Master-Inquisitor Irian Chellavan was, by his own admission, a 'Primitive kind of guy.' He wasn't a technophobe, he merely was the type of person who valued tried-and-true methods.

Leaning up against the wall towards the rear of the room was a female whose most distinctive feature was her flame-red hair. She wore what was obviously a suit of powered armor, though the exact type would be known only to scholars of Revenian powered armor. Or well-prepared intelligence officers.

The specific suit was referred to as "Dragon" armor. The reasoning for the nickname was hardly a leap of logic -- the suit mounted a hand-flamer in each gauntlet. This was hardly an oddity in Revenian powered armor design -- except that the Dragon suit was of the type referred to as 'low-profile powered armor,' weaponry was unusual. That the designers had managed to pack feed systems and fuel bottles in such low-profile armor -was- unusual.

Unusual described the girl herself pretty well, actually. Kallisto Fade, sister to the somewhat renowned (at least, in certain circles) Cassandra Fade, alias 'Lady Fade,' main squeeze of none other than Colonel Sir Jerrin Crane, CO of the 1st Northfell Light Rangers (Strange name for an armored regiment...,) and rumored to be linked to the Revenian Intelligence Directorate (More linked that you know, oh neutral narrator.)

On her own, Kallisto was pretty impressive. She was a psychokinetic with a liking for pyrokinesis. This didn't mean that she was less capable in the other two realms...it was a purely psychological prejudice.

The final member of the Inquisitorial team was the vital part, really. Irian was a superior leader and one of the most powerful psionicists in the entire ORA. Kallisto was excellent at what she did (make stuff into not-stuff,) but they were still psionicists, meaning that somewhere, somewhen, there would be somebody who could wipe the floor with them.

Reygar Talmirion was a true Wild Psion, what certain people called 'anti-psions.' With psionics, an individual could use the power of the mind to affect reality in limited ways. Wild Psions could be said to do the opposite, and that was partly true...but not the entire story.

Firstly, the primary power of the wild psion is that they could use the power of the mind to prevent reality from being affected. This power was always in effect, though the 'power,' the 'boost to the universes resistance to 'unnatural change,' was subject to too many variables to go into at this time.

Secondly, a wild psion could use the power of reality to affect the mind. Effectively, a Wilder can 'shut down' a psionicist (or any other sort of 'reality altering' individual, like magic-users.) This requires a bit more effort than the 'aura of negation,' but effort is relative, and to Reygar it was as easy as breathing.

The third 'primary' power of the Wild Psion is referred to as 'The Breaking.' It is permanent, unlike the other two 'signature' powers, and is thusly considerably more exhausting -- though nothing like truly powerful 'ritual' psionics were. The Breaking was the reason Wilders were feared, and rightfully so, it was a truely terrible power.

It did exactly what it sounded like it should do: Broke somebody to the Wilder's will. Victims of The Breaking became mindless creatures, little more than extensions of the Wild Psion who broke them...

There were limits, of course. Wilders were -not- telepaths, they could not 'subjugate' normal people...The Breaking was only a danger to other Psions (or other types of whatchamacallits...reality abusers...whatever,) because the mind of such an individual had that extra 'bit' that allowed one to bend reality.

Normally that 'bit' was considered a blessing. It was also a curse, because it made one vulnerable.

Reygar Chaosborne was the most powerful Wild Psion ever known to have existed. Half-Ascended, Half...something else, he was marred with even more drastic mutations than Xan the Infernal, who was a far weaker Wild Psion, but a rather effective War Mage...

Unlike Xan, Reygar was 'stable' in that his 'taint' did not change. The prehensile tail, useless wings, elongated canines, and, of course, the signature wildfire eyes were the only obvious differences between him and a normal Halfling Ascended.

This noted, it was unsurprising that, even though he had yet to speak or even so much as move...he dominated the room. His personality, his force of will, seemed to fill the room like a thick fog. That is, of course, a poor analogy, as that seems to imply that this was an unpleasant thing -- it wasn't. It was, however, the sort of thing that was common about great people.

People like Alexander the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, Theodore Roosevelt, Adolf Hitler, Ghengis Khan, Gaius Julius Caesar, Gustavus Adolphus, and foremost among Revenians, Dysaryn Stark.

Superbly capable men (Because I'm too lazy to list women, but a few examples would be: Joan of Arc, Queen Elizabeth I, and Sojourner Truth) who -knew- who they were, and would not change themselves for anything. That sort of confidence was a force that could change a world...or conquer one.

Reygar was dressed in his customary gray duster, worn over a suit of almost impossibly thin armor. It was an Ascended Thinsuit, low-profile powered armor designed and built during the time of the Ascended Supremacy. Though the principles were still known (not widely, but by a select handful...), the support structure necessary to produce such items would take time. Lots of time. Millenia, most likely.

But the close to one hundred suits that had endured, some in house armories, others passed down through familes worked just as well as the day they were built. The Ascended were immortal--they built to last.

Irian spoke, then. "I am Master Inquisitor Irian Chellavan, my Companions are Sister-Inquisitor Kallisto Fade and Reygar Talmirion. We will make our insertion via combat glider. The Rack will get as close as possible with the stealth methods that it has, but unfortunately the Hearth frigates are not dedicated stealth ships. Luckily, they can carry Slice Craft easily enough, and our Slice Craft have proven themselves repeatedly as some of the best fast stealth-craft about. The final insertion will be made via combat glider, as I said. The method has been used quite succesfully, albeit more I cannot say."

Sanderson flipped open the armoured safety clips on his helmet and slipped it off gently clicking it onto a clip on his belt before quickly saluting.

“Colonel James Sanderson and my pack at your disposal Master Inquisitor Irian,” Sanderson said while taking in the bizarre appearance of the psikers. Sandersons last mission however had been spending a month securing a trade deal with a pack of floaters on a gas giant inside a single suit and as such anything with limbs looked normal to him.
“If I may present my pack”

“Pack report” he blared into his suit com.

By the drop tubes the drones came for want of a better term alive, there matter compression reactors burned into action as they neatly cracked out of there crate and ran quick diagnostics. Then the 8 strong pack blurred as they seemed to go almost super sonic their low powered distortion fields making a low hum as they suppressed any excess air movement or shock waves. They passed one startled crew member in nothing more than a series of quickly moving shadows barely registering on his mind save for a faint hum before they decelerated bouncing of the walls of the frigates corridors and spreading there weight using there distortion fields.

The drones hissed into the bay one by one there shapes flashed into clarity as the mix of holograms and the distortion field wound down, the tips of there outer limbs faintly glowing as the field projectors radiated out energy. Two of them were carrying in there limbs 40mm selective fire semi auto electromechanical flechette rifles, while still another drone seemed to cradle a long anti tank plasma weapon, its flared cooling fins framing its wide blunt snout. Another carried a light auto mortar strapped to its back. All the external weapons seemed to be no more than extensions of the drones save for the four “Vanilla” drones who on there backs carried four quantum rip blades sheathed.

They as best they could stood to attention and opened there central equipment store inset in there torso.

Sanderson continued

“May I present in full the TX180 hunter killer drone pack. You will note this pack has been especially equipped with these” at this Sanderson held out a gauntlet covered hand and the nearest drone quickly unclipped and handed to him the stubby silver mass of the neural stripper. The Mk.V Electromagnetic Neural process degradation device, known as a neural stripper. Range is about 40 yards, and the effect is instant destruction of every neural link between every neurone in the affected area. The effect will pass through most thin walls and even a certain depth of soil or armour. This weapon however is as yet classified and we would like to keep it between as such people we can trust and possible future clients.”


With that Sanderson handed the stripper back to the drone who reattached it to its right shoulder hardpoint.

“The TX180 also has one other useful little trick apart from its speed and monumental strength and firepower.”

With that the TX180s perfectly mirrored the appearance of the three inquisitors and some of their crew before once more flashing to there own forms.

“The TX180s are built to strike and terminate the target, they are assassins and as such there cloak is only as it were skin deep” with that one of the drones replicated Sandersons own form and Sanderson passed his hand quickly through its face leaving faint ripples and distortions.

“We believe this will prove an excellent use for them”.

He turned to adress the pack,
“Pack sleep mode" and then continued to adress the inquisitors, "I am in nominal command of the pack and honoured hosts make no mistake they are a pack and operate as such. They will accept verbal commands from authorised personnel if that person is carrying a ZMI requestable IFF (which should be noted will only activate on receiving a request for identification and even then send a directional pulsed code back) or if the drone can see the persons eyes and get a retina scan.”

Sanderson finished at last his eyes following almost lovingly along the pack before returning to the inquisitors before him.

“I know at first their appearance may be somewhat disapointing but their abilities are superb and I do hope you enjoy working with them.”

Irian was not Unnerved, per-se...but he was close. Robots were...not common...within the ORA. The Supremacy was the dominant nation of the ORA, and Supremacy was highly influenced by the Ascended, and the Ascended were death on things like robots, thing that had little purpose other than to do what a living-type already could.

Now, robots did exist, yes. But they were mostly mobile bodies for AIs, of which there weren't many outside of the military...but there was no denying the possible effectiveness of...devices?...like these drones, and with that, he was satisfied.

Kallisto barely even noticed the drones beyond a basic level. It wasn't that she was oblivious or anything -- her combat record revealed -that- as a falsitude, but more that she didn't care. Her job was to do what her boss told her to and little else. She shared quite a lot with those drones, really...

Reygar looked the drones over and smiled. Fast little buggers...way faster than something that size had any right to be. Too fast for almost anybody to follow...but the wildfire that had taken over his eyes did more than just look strange.

So, yes, he could see them. Though 'seeing' them was maybe a bit of a stretch. He 'saw' them like you would see something out of the corner of the your eye. It was more of a feeling than hard evidence, yet Reygar put more trust in his feelings and hunches than he put in almost anything else.

He spoke for the first time, then. His voice was low and rumbling and suitably predatory, but not unpleasant for all that. "Nice toys, especially that adaptive camo. Bit sci-fi, even for me...and that they require IFF at all is slightly disturbing to me, but we'll just hold you and yours responsible for any unforseen incidents, and if it was just me going in I'd leave it at that...but it isn't, So. Those assassin drones are dangerous. My guess is that any glitches -will- result in unforseen death at the worst and compromisation of the op at the least. Should the former happen, and should the casualty be one of ours...well, that is a matter for people other than myself. Should the op be compromised, we walk away. That said, I, personally, am pleased to have them along."

He smiled his predatory smile and inclined his head in a slight bow to the Colonel. It was true, of course. He -was- glad to have them along. 'n they probably were strong as only a machine could be...but maybe not so much stronger than Irian Chellavan who was a powerful man from a two-gee world, even before you added in the not-insubstantial strength boost of his relic armor.

'n though Reygar's thinsuit didn't add to strength, it didn't really matter. He wasn't too much taller than Chellavan, true. Just five inches, actually, but he was actually broader at the shoulder than the powerful priest, and he was a lot stronger than he looked, another change that the Wildfire wrought. So, no, he probably wasn't as 'strong' as the machine, but strength was relative. He -was- a lot -smarter- than the machine, and he could -learn- from his experiences, which was a quality that defined sentience...'n anyways, machines required programming. Meaning that while the drones were probably flawless stylists with their blades and suchforth...they were also -constrained- to those styles.

Reygar's weapons were the sword and whip-dagger, and he was a true expert in both. The kind of skill that one could only gain from experience...and Reygar had that in abundance.

He was old. So old that he remembered the Ascended Supremacy. Faintly. But that was neither relevant nor necessary...besides...the drones were on -his- side. So.

Saunders smiled thinly,

“There is no need to worry, the drones will refrain from lethal force against any who are not its targets and it takes an active attack or an extreme threat for them to begin to use it against any other people, though I do admit that Inquisitors are a considerably dangerous threat even to a drones mind.”

“I would also wish you to remember” and now Saunders showed them the buried synth alloy circle inscribed with the all seeing eye of the INT-SEC, “I will be in overall control of them at all times and while it is possible even my mind may be corrupted by enough psionic pressure my implants will most certainly not be, they are somewhat well shielded as anyone in my trade must be and they will override my thoughts.
My Implants are well in a way part of me that cannot be touched, I would also ask in the unfortunate event of my organic demise you retrieve the implant or destroy it, though I would warn you that its destruction would mean a permanent exit of my consciousness from this plain something my duty does not yet allow me to consider.”

Saunders then sighed and continued

“Given the militarised state of the drop zone I would not be surprised if extreme measures were necessary, I suggest given a review of the data that the drones commence the initial insertion and if necessary possible decoy attacks to ward away the probably large paramilitary guard force or to stop any counter attacks”

Saunders pointed at the scout drones rifles, “the scouts can easily provide some rather colourful distractions While I don’t doubt your superb skills as masters of the Inquisitors art I have seen the power readings given off and you may need all the energy you can get to deal with these threats, I would therefore suggest allowing the drones to take care of the more conventional threats before requesting there assistance in terminating the targets”.

“One more thing” Now Saunders face grew tight, “if you should not have enough power to terminate the objective but have enough to hold them the drones can provide termination with the neural strippers, however if you are actively involved in adept combat at that period your powers could be severely damaged”.

Behind Saunders the drones were inspecting there payloads and internal clips inside there torso segments, one of the scout drones taking out a LIDAR stick sensor sliding it down the barrel of its weapon and checking for inconsistencies. Other drones were carefully flicking open hundreds of tiny compartments checking tiny darts, recon bugs, or a thousand other tools.

Saunders then once more addressed the inquisitors, “ I suggest we attempt to review some of the topographic data, no matter the forces we encounter at least that is unlikely to change” though at this he winced remembering the constant flow of weather data that had constantly distracted him on the floaters gaseous world but had been vital to his survival.

Nominally, Irian was in command of the small group of Revenians, due to his rank and experience. Yet, for all that, Irian was an Inquisitor, possessing of all the vices and virtues of that title. Dealing with internal problems, lightning raids...fear as a weapon, yes, he could do all of these things, and like all field inquisitors, he was a capable fighter.

But he was not -primarily- a fighter. He did not have the extensive training of the secular elite, though he was still plenty capable. But in this, he would defer to Reygar. Not that it would have mattered had he not...Reygar Chaosborne could care less about rank and position, for good reason.

Reygar, you see, was a specialist. He did not possess Irian's extensive training and skill in the area of -people.- What he -was,- was a supremely capable -soldier.- Only a fool would not have taken advantage of the presence of the -original- Twilight Seraph, the man who had led his hand-picked and trained shock infantry into the fray again and again, fighting in Dysaryn Stark's War of Reclamation.

Reygar Talmirion had given his nickname, earned during a midnight glider drop, to Revenia's elite Seraph regiments...and the same skill and experience that had cleared the way for Dysaryn's Northfell Lancers, time and time again...

So, Irian stepped back and nodded, and Reygar stepped forward, inclining his head just so slightly, acknowledging the priest...and then he began speaking.

"As you say, we will deal with these...adepts, as you call them. Yet, you speak of power readings. I say to you that power readings are deceptive, and even if they weren't...would only be vague guidelines.

Psionic power is draining. Not merely mentally but physically as well. Even the greatest Psions, and I speak from personal experience and knowledge here, rarely ever use their powers except when the effect they require can -only- be achieved through use of those powers."

He paused, then continued on...

"If those power readings are accurate, and I have yet to see a method of accurately judging a psion's power through the use of technology, but I digress from the point. If those readings are accurate, they would only measure -absolute- power. Brute force, as it were.

Now, Brute Force is great. You can accomplish a lot of things with Brute Force. But you can accomplish the same thing -repeatedly- with skill. Of course, it is best to possess both brute force and skill in quantity...but given the choice, I, personally, would choose skill.

If your intel is correct, these Adepts are new into their powers, and as such have had little time to gain skill. It takes -decades- to be able to wield psionic power with skill. It takes -centuries- to be able to do so -well.- So, confidence on the part of my comrades is justified.

On my part, I am not a classical 'psion.' I can not throw fireballs or take over your mind...I am rather, a sort of...anti-psion. The taint you see about me is merely the obvious manifestation of the power I hold. I am invisible to the Psionic eye, my mind is forever closed to outside influence. Two times I have been defeated by Psions, and neither of those times did I use my Curse...and the two Psions who defeated did so without use of Psionic powers. The first was Dysaryn Stark, Warprince of Revenia and the best swordsman that I personally have ever met, more than that I cannot say. The second was Kral De'Valoran, Lord High Inquisitor of Irian and Kallisto's order, and my close personal friend. I doubt I will -ever- meet a better man with a whip-dagger.

Summed up, Colonel, I am old. Very old. Never in my long, long life have I been defeated by a psion who dared use his or her powers against me. Because they are useless. Master Inquisitor Chellavan and Sister Kallisto are here to back me up. I can deal with these Adepts myself."

He went on then, "I agree with you. Much of my...renown...and one of the larger reasons for my presence on this mission is that I have extensive experience in clearing drop zones. It was hell the first time, it remained hell throughout, and I do not relish going through that hell again, less so when I don't have one hundred men who I would trust to take my virgin sister through hell itself at my back.

So, as you say, the Drones will support, and if necessary...execute, and despite my previous lecture, and though my victory over any psion is practically certain...I can die. Thus contingencies are always good..."

He moved to a holotank, showing a projection of the site and its surroundings in glorious 3d...

"I propose we make our drop here...."

Dimak sat in his post, sipping of recaf. He hated it when he had to watch the stupid door to the facility. But he had ways of distracting himself from watching the large titanium door. He pulled on his headphones and listend to his new "Dread" cd. He started nodding his head and waved at his fellow guard Erik who also had duty with him. Erik sat down and took out his las pistol and laid it on the counter. Though he couldn't hear him he saw Erik's mouth open and close, his hand going to the pistol. He took off the head phones.

"-hear that!?"

"What?"

"I said did you hear that?" Erik was standing on his feet, looking at the door. Dimak turned off his cd player with a grunt and then listend carefully. From beyond the door he thought he could hear the sounds of a battle. But that was impossible, A Company from the Emperor's guard was stationed beyong that door. They couldn't be under attack.

Suddenly they saw several large metal blades penerate through the door, carving a line along in the shape of a door. Both of them were frozen with fear. Then came a large blast as the door came smashing down. The smoke cleared and both saw several large armoured figures in the shadows, and one thing that didn't look human. Beyong he could see several of the clone troopers dead, and more running for defensive positions and firing at more of the large robots that were firing at them.

Erik acted first. Bringing up his pistol he aimed and fire one shot before a bullet took him through the head.

Not careing to die just yet Dimak had fallen to the floor and slaped the red alarm button, then picked up the phone reciever.

"Warning! Were under attack, I repeat intruders! Were under-" A blade was sticking through the desk and through his chest. Falling into blackness he died.


Volescu ran from his office. Rushing down the maze of corridors and slapped the entrance button to the security office. Inside several techs were looking at screens filled with armoured figures and impressive looking drones. Major Ki'Ory was standing watching with his back to the door.

"Doctor Volescu, I'm afraid we are under attack, " The Major's voice was calm, " I only have one platoon of clones and a squad of your own guards here. I suggest that you get your staff and fall back to the main chamber, the one with the children. I've filled all the the main hallways will a noxious gas, making the intruders come through a bottle neck to get to you. I will hold them as long as possible. I've sent a warning to headquarters but help wont arrive for 2 hours." Volescu just stood their, ot knowing what to say. The armoured figures had stepped through the main entrance, as did some drones, but most stayed outside occupying the remains of the company of clone troopers.

"Thankyou Major, " it was all Volescu could say. Leaving he get on his small vox. "Attention all staff, this is Doctor Volescu. I want everyone in the main chamber and bring any weapons you have. We are under attack from intruders, the target is undoubtably the childern I want them out of their chambers."

He turned off his vox and stopped by a hallway closet, pulling out a flak jacket and a small las pistol with a few clips. Sighing to himself he walked to the main chamber.

The drones slick surfaces now blood covered reflected the eerie green pyres of flame gel that surmounted a cluster of now charring clone trooper corpses. The reflections showed motions of the almost kali armed drones ripping through the remaining troopers in a twisting ballet of swift death.

Finally as only four troopers clustered behind a hastily deployed auto Blaster on a bipod trying to suppress the remorseless wave of death the drones were spreading one of the blade equipped drones had fired its neural stripper at nearly point blank range after dodging through their hail of fire. The troops simply slumped, dead there bodies untouched and pristine surrounded by scenes of destruction and carnage.

The attack had gone swiftly, incendiary rounds fired into a storage building had drawn some of the clone troopers and civilians to it. These the drones had swiftly tazered or in the case of the clone troopers hit with neuro toxin warhead equipped needle rounds. The drones had then infiltrated the clone troopers barracks and begun there grisly task which had finally led them to the entrance to the lab itself. All the while the two scout drones were punching there 40mm flechettes into any thing that moved after riddling and then demolishing the facilities guard towers with the assistance of the TX180 equipped with the auto mortar, who was now guarding the bases ground entrance in the form of a distraught fire-fighter.

Meanwhile the drone pack broke up further with some simply striding through the fastest route to the complexes power supply, the clouds of noxious gas having no effect on there advanced gore splattered synthetic hides and as they passed they one by one plucked out or shot out the facilities security cameras with single inhumanely accurate needle rounds and planting sensor pick ups as they passed. The drones moved fast, far faster than any human had a right to expect them to.

The inquisitors were left with the AT drone and one of the blade drones. Sanderson voice eerily well reproduced through them.

“the targets should be detectable to you now, subsidiary deep scanning shows at least 40 armed personnel left in our path in the primary chamber with a small well armed group making there way towards us”


3 miles away, a turnip field, the extraction point.


Sandersons eyes were closed occasionally flickering, he had used a tiny swarm of utility drones from his back pack to dig what looked like a shallow grave, before he had placed a few canisters in it and then lowered himself still suited up into it after checking his needle pistol once last time. One by one the canisters detonated pumping out a thick ablative covering that could withstand tons of pressure over the suit. Then the tiny rat sized utility drones buried the off white odd shaped ceramic after threading a few sensor pick ups through it. They proceeded to hide themselves over the field, watching and guarding.

Headquarters, Grand Admiral Alabar's office

The officer nocked on the door. Entering after a pause. Alabar sat behind his desk smoking one of his imported Cuban cigars. "Yes Captain?"

"Sir, we've just recieved a distress signal from Doctor Volescu's facility, and Major Ki'Ory has sent a larger picture of whats happening. Alabar sat foreward.

"Why wasn't I told of this emmediatley. Whats the situation?"

"From Major Ki'Ory's report it seems several military type tech drones along with several other human intruders, we're assuming a crack team, is attack. So far we have discovered that the clone A company was taken by surprise and were killed off rather quick. Major Ki'Ory has a platoon of clones and a few regular guards for the facility. Nothing heavier than las rifles." The Captain finished.

Alabar sat back and folded his fingers. He knew what he had to do. "Activate 1st Army. I want it mobilised now! Get the 2nd Armoured there as well. I want this contained as fast as possible. As soon as troops get the order they are to set out, they'll arrive company by company but they should be able to handle it. Make sure the 2,000 Heavy Clone troopers are sent first....Move!"

The captain rushed from Alabar's office, and ran to the comm room to start the orders going.

Alabar took a long puff off his cigar. Leaning foreward he pressed the red comm button on his desk.

"This is Grand Admiral Alabar, I wish to speak with the Emperor."

Research Facility, Main Chamber

Volescu stood before the frightened group of aides and scientists. 12 men and a few women, one of the women was had Agatha cradled in her arms. Simon sat on top of a desk, cross legged, completely at peace. Jonathon stood in a corner, his black smoke hanging around him like a cloak.

The men had 7 las pistols and a few las rifles among themselves, plus Volescu had his own.

"Alright everyone. Major Ki'Ory has begun putting up the best defense he can to keep the intruders from reaching us. Our main priority is the protection of the children. I want you Marshal and you Mick'enry to set a few of those metal tables up on their sides to use as a shield. You women I wish you to keep back from any fighting that happens." Volescu calmly began organizing them as best he could. Then knowing he had them distracted he walked over to Simon.

"Simon, you know what happening don't you?" Simon smiled at Volescu, a smile of one who knows what you don't.

"Indeed I do Doctor. A group of men and several other people with abilities not unlike mine and the other childrens powers, are coming to eleminate us." Simon said this as though he was commenting on the weather.

"Can we do anything against them?"

"Not the ones of importance. Some are human, others are like myself, those you can not stand against, they will kill everyone. Jonathon and I will try our best to stop him. I know not of what Agatha will do, her thoughts are a maze to me at present. Be warned also of flying death, in form of drones. They were made for my death as well. I am sorry that you and the others will die, and that I myself will die..." Simon frowned, then looked over at the door to the chamber.

Volescu had always been amazed at Simon's ability to percieve much of went on around him. But now he was afraid. If others with powers like the children were coming...they would be powerful...and expieranced. Shaking his head he walked over to Jonathon, on his way he passed by the aide Michelle who was hugging Agatha and calmly soothing her by saying, " Hush...mother is here." Stopping a few feet from him Volescu studied Jonathon. His eyes were concentrated on the door, his palms opening and closing as if to a rythem.

"Jonathon. We will need your power soon."

-I know this Doctor, I sense One coming...not unlike myself-

"I know, Simon just told me. He said-"

-NO! You do not know Doctor, your death is written already. The One who comes is a well of power. He is to my eyes a column of glowing light in a darkness non could see through. I myself question if I could even dent him...Doctor, I know what you suspect of myself...of my inner monster. If I must I will unleash it. But I must tell you that after I do so I will be lost. The flame of my life will go out. It may be enough to take the One out, or not. I will be the first to fight and hopefully I can stop Him. Simon will handle the others, he should be able to. Now let me prepare in silence Doctor-

Volescu stared at Jonathon. He had never thought he would ever see Jonathon prepared to save anothers life. But then he turned and walked back to his aides allowing for Jonathon to have his time alone. His aides had overturned three metal tables and had positioned themselves behind it. It was the only cover they could make. One of them looked up at Volescu.

"Think we'll survive sir?"

"No...but we'll try." He told him this to give him some sense of resolve, but he privately knew he would not live out the night. He only prayed that the children could be saved.

Taking position behind one the desks he popped in a clip to his las gun and waited.

Main Corridor, Research Facility

Major Ki'Ory crouched in a door way. He watched as his clone troops took up positions that would afford the best cover. Grimly he sat back and wiped the sweat from his brow, knowing he could ill afford to be blinded by it in a fight. He picked up his las rifles and checked it. The tale-tale readings on the side said it was on and fully loaded. Sighing to himself he took a knee and brought his rifle up into firing position.

"Troopers, fire when you see movement."

"Sir!" The clones were made for battle, the best Thrashian foot soldier in the Empire had been used for the copy. They were not afraid to die, but the 5 human guards sitting in positions like his behind him were silently saying prays.

In the distance he thought he could hear a low hum of a hover engine, and the stomp of metal clad feet.

There was no pussy-footing around the issue of who was in charge anymore. The facts were simple.

1. Reygar Talmirion was the individual who had shaped Revenian shock tactics. He had forgotten more about shock infantry than most people ever learned...and he forgot -very- little.

2. Irian Chellavan was -not- Reygar Talmirion.

3. Neither was Kallisto Fade.

So, it was simple enough for a split to develop. Reygar was simply -better- than the other two Inquisitors, and he valued shock above all and to maintain that shock, he had to maintain his momentum...

He could -not- slow down, even if that meant leaving his backup behind. Which, thankfully, he didn't have to. Irian and Kallisto might not have been able to keep up, but the one ZMI Assassin drone, the one with the blade...wsa doing a -fine- job of it.

So it was that the first glimpse that Major Ki'Ory would have of the attackers was a six foot five inch raven-black haired -demon,- eyes alight with fire, gleaming monomolecular-edge cutting spike fitted onto the end of a prehensile tail, leathery wings fanning out to assist with balance...

The second thing he would note was the way the left arm moved, releasing an object...a -disc-...which whirred through the air like a frisbee...coming to hover amidst the defenders...

It was a Tracer Grenade, specifically designed for long-distance throws into tight formations. This type of grenade was -only- usable by individuals with integral rangefinding...or individuals like Reygar Elfbane, individuals possessing of a quality known as 'absolute location.'

It detonated at -exactly- the right instant, and the shrapnel was deployed with enough force to drive through four inches of steel...

Reygar had -experience.- He -knew- the blast radius of a tracer grenade, and he -knew- how long he had to wait before he acted...and so he followed up on the shock the grenade would create in a way that only a six foot five inch 295 s.pound Wild Psion from a two gee world could...

He would be holding, in his right hand, his Warblade. Four feet of blue-tinted Eldensteel with the tell-tale sparkle along the edge that signified that mono-molecular edged slice-wire was fitted into the groove provided for that purpose...and the crackling white lightning of the slice-field racing up and down the length of the blade...combined to form sudden death for any fool who thought that armor was safety.

He was no clone...no genetically engineered super-soldier...he was even worse. The Ascended were believed to descend from Northfell. Northfell was an -incredibly- hostile world. The Ascended -thrived.- They sought out hardship and -conquered- it, because they believed that the best way to be better than anybody else was to -earn it.-

Those Ancient Ascended had succeeded admirably, the results had been obvious...were still obvious in the handful of true Ascended still living. Dysaryn Stark, Warprince of Revenia and the Lord Changer himself...younger than Reygar by ten years, yet probably ten times as deadly...

'n what was ten years, really, when compared to the amount of time that Dysaryn and Reygar had lived. Over five hundred -thousand- years had passed since the Ascended Supremacy had fallen victim to exterior predation...magic...whatever...striking at the moment of Vulnerability...yet vengeance had been achieved.

Reygar and Dysaryn were two very similar men. They both had one over-riding goal in life -- the protection of their people from threats that normal men were not equipped to deal with. With that sort of work-line, one got into a lot of fights.

Dysaryn and Reygar both believed in the value of shock and momentum. Strength was nice, yes, but secondary in value to Speed. Reygar was a deceptively quick man...Dysaryn's lightning-quick actions were the stuff of legend.

Both men, given the situation at hand, would have acted the same way. No cover, no time to trade shots...grenade already thrown, they'll have to recover either from shrapnel wounds --death, maybe-- as well as the concussion, while -he- was fresh and -expecting- action...

One thing to do. Charge.

That great blue warblade of his was low at his right side, his left arm was up, the deceptively wimpy 'Iris Guard' shield had expanded from its bracer to offer some protection...

Soon he was among the Thrashian soldiers...an objective observor would have called them something different.

An truly objective observor would have called them -prey-

Even with their officer down the clones did not panick or run. They were trained for combat and only combat, and they had orders. 7 of the 12 clones opened fire with their heavy rifles. The rest, closer to the charging figure, pulled out their short energy blade knifes and lundged from all directions at the enemy.

The first three were cut down, their bodies cut into large pieces, two thier heads crushed by the small shield that the firgure wore. One had managed to stad his knife into the thigh of the towering figure before death took him.

The rest of the platoon fell back firing, the clone Lieutenant ordering them back to another position.

Main Chamber, Facility

Volescu decided he would try to find out what was going on outside the room. Walking to a wall he pressed a side panel. The panel slid open to reveal a large generator and a small screen with controls and a small hand-pad keyboard. Accessing the data base of the facility he used his emergency user name and managed to get a feed to the cameras. He shifted through them until he found one of the Major and his men. Volescu watched as a grenade ripped through the Major and his human men. The clones however attacked and then fell back under the on-slaught of the towering figure. He was tall and had the signs of mutation.

'Not unlike Jonathon,' he thought as he watched the figure smash the head in of the last clone, then started moving toward where the others were falling back and firing.

Looking at the screen he got a look on the wall of where this was taking place. It was 300 meters from the door behind him. Volescu shivered involentarily. Deciding he'd seen enough he closed the panel and went back to his aides.


20 miles from the Reserach Facility, Foreward position Emperor's Heavy Guard

The clone troopers moved fast, some in half tracks, some in jeeps, most on foot. But all moved with purpose. The clone captain was standing in his command car watching his men go by. His comm officer next to him put down his reciever.

"Sir, Fleet Comm has detected several of the metal drones our forces incountered earlier, as well as a ship about 17 miles from out present position, Admiral Alabar has guessed this to be the enemy strike teams extraction point. He orders that three companies of our the division be sent there to capture anyone and destroy any hostiles."

"Send a comfirmation, then get Companies Alpha, Omega, and Beta on the mission. Also detatch the 1st armoured platoon (12 tanks) to them as a taxi and support."

"Sir."

The clone captain watched as several of the Apocalipse-class tanks rumbled by, each carrying 30 heavily armed clone troopers. He saluted the Lieutenants of the companies then stepped back down into his seat and watched the men go off the main path of the clone column.

"Driver move out."

The clone trooper column continued toward the facility.

2 AU out from Thrashia.

In the dark empty cold the light INT-SEC needle cruiser “Payment Owed” moved, her adaptive passive cloak making her not invisible but simply part as it were of the background. As for her mass her drive was carefully hiding it. Ahead of her micro stealth satellites had already began falling through the planets orbital space locating fleet assets and plotting acceleration and attack curves. The cruisers main bays opened, objects began drifting outwards, some long needles, others odd shaped small arrays of N2 anti shipping mines, and finally four huge billowing arrays of decoy generators. The Thrashian fleet wouldn’t see one drop ship trying to land and extract but an entire fast attack force attempting a landing. All of this was done with out a single active burn within the space of barely a minute.



The Turnip field.

Sanderson considered the data being fed to him by the cruisers uplink. Huge bulky clanking tanks were rushing to the first drop point and following them mechanised infantry. They were spraying a massive quantity of active radiation seeking out the drones positions. In a quick command the drones were moving at over 300 miles an hour planting decoys and false trails, massively reducing their silhouette. It wasn’t enough, the enemy had too many assets in the field, too many active scanners. Too much seeking invisible radiation. Sanderson had no choice. The scout drones heavy 40mm flechette guns huffed as they repositioned faster than any human sniper could ever dream of doing. The sensor shadows of their decoys, their rapid movements and there rapid and devastating fire was not concentrated on any one target but rather the largest sources of active sensors. The huge armour piercing 40mm flechetes would punch through delicate sensors amongst the entire advancing force randomly leaving some units for all intents and purposes blind and wounded.

Deep beneath the soil of the turnip field Sanderson’s eyes flickered once. It looked like the end game had to come quicker than planned.

The Facility

Deep within the facility the second group of drones reached a point beneath what their sensors deemed as the main power source. One opened its carapace and withdrew a plasma breaching charge, placed it upon the ceiling and then withdrew, the toxic fog swirling around it and began waiting. The quickest way to the power source was a straight line. This did not mean simply following corridors for an attacking force that didn’t care for niceties such as keeping the walls intact.

The drones strode through the grenade shattered remains of the troopers, scanning. Suddenly their forms changed to those of the clone troopers. The insignia upon there false uniforms however were however those of the reinforcing troops miles distant. Remote pick ups were wonderful things.

Sanderson’s voice echoed through the corpse filled corridor as the odd shot ricochet down the corridor from one of the drones forms.

“I’m afraid termination must come quicker than anticipated. A large mechanised force has been sent to intercept us. At present my estimates are 30 minutes -+5, I can increase this by using TX-180 unit four, …sorry the TX unit with the auto mortar to deploy a smart minefield and ordering the scout drones to take out their command transports and officers. They are already running sensor denial missions. I’m afraid the enemies large amount of fire power has led them to believe it safe to run heavy active sensors. I do hope my scouts provide them with a lesson. I would warn you also that the local fleet has mobilised but I have already taken measures to insure the “Racks” extraction path is clear. I may also have a little surprise for the ground force when it arrives.

Sanderson’s authorisation for a moment held inside his implant, then sped away. No matter the outcome the end was coming now with the actinic flare of lightning and the brightness of a star.


2 AU out from Thrashia.

Once more the Payment Owed opened another weapons bay. This time what exited was not a decoy, a mine, or a passive attack missile, but the single aerodynamic shape of a electron compression bomb, its core set for a 0.8 kiloton perfectly clean blast of power that would send out a truly incredible electromagnetic pulse and create a ball star hot plasma 20 meters above the facility. Its fins catching the light for a moment as it exited the cruisers shadow before it began its long plunge. The cruiser its job done turned once more for the depths, leaving barely a ripple in the space time to show it had ever been.


The Facility

The drones once more stalked ahead of the inquisitors, the running defenders seeing for a moment what looked like there relief force paused in their retreat. That pause was to be their final act.

The needle guns punched gorey holes in bodies while the UV A.P.L. lasers scorched of limbs and heads leaving smoking stumps, Out of this web of gore the drones emerged and accelerated through the remains of the guards and used there strength and raw speed to literally rip the remains of the labs defence force to bloody ribbons and shards of flying bone. They slowly approached the door to the main chamber. Then they waited while their sensors scanned patiently

The “vanilla” TX-180s once more drew there quantum rip blades and placed there tips upon the doors huge armoured surface causeing a faint scraching noise, and waited while behind them the clumping armoured boots of the inquisitors approached.


The advancing Thrashian forces.

The scout drones flittered back and forth between the separated armoured columns. The forces seemed in disarray, their hasty deployment method leaving them open to ambush. When a jeep was moving on its own a single AP needle round would reduce its engine block to flaming ruin, the half tracks suffered the full killing power of the huge 40mm Flechette rounds which would turn their passengers to mush while the MBT’s were occasionally sniped at, a track blasted off by a HE flechette or a communications mast slagged by UV laser. However their masses rumbled on, even the 40mm hyper velocity Flechettes unable to do more than damage them.

The main gate of the facility

The fire man shape shimmered and the auto mortar drone braced itself with two limbs while setting the weapon with its others. Then it fired, a rain of 80mm canisters spraying out across the landscape, some where tiny ramjet smart AT missiles which broke away and screamed towards targets the scouts were painting, these would and did kill a few of the tanks, their ultra high density heads punching neat smoking holes in the targets before the victim tank would explode in a red firey blast as the missiles plasma warheads cycled. Other canisters contained anti personnel mines, these were mostly aimed near the facility and landed randomly, their tiny one centimetre wide black spherical forms had the capacity to blow off a mans leg. Conventional explosives manufactured on Earth had come a long way since the dawn of the “perfect soldier”. Other canisters contained decoys, micro 20 shot needlers, and occasionally a large “black bag special” photon warhead.

The drones were inflicting losses on the advancing forces it was true. Sometimes even halting entire units and certainly picking off squads, however all they could accomplish was to slow the armoured fist descending upon the facility. Meanwhile 8 remaining fully operational tanks that had survived the mortar barrage in the unit headed towards the original drop zone trundled on. They would unfortunately in so doing pass a certain turnip field.



The Turnip Field

Above ground the turnip field looked like any other, empty and full of turnips. Sanderson lay a metre below its surface waiting to send the signal that would bring the slice ship ripping through the atmosphere. He was becoming increasingly and painfully aware however that in 34 minutes the first rounds of the “Payment Owed’s” salvo would go active and 14 minutes after that no matter what the bomb would scorch the facility and everything in it from the face of this world with the power of 800 tons of TNT and an EMP that would hopefully wipe every electronic system for 2000 kilometres as the eerie miniature glowing blue mushroom cloud of the electron compression bombs detonation would rise above the lab complex.

Reygar barely felt the flicker of the energy knife...not because he was too hyped up on Adrenaline to feel the damage...which he was...but because using straight energy against a Thinsuit was dim. What energy wasn't drawn for immediate use elsewhere simply bled off -- there was a -reason- that Thinsuits were lostech...and that wasn't just the materials that made one up...

But, unfortunately...his Duster -did- suffer damage. The knife did a -wonderful job of scorching a large hole in the gray overcoat...which Reygar didn't notice...yet...but it sure would tick him off after the fact.

Right now, he had other priorities...'n that priority was -clearing the damn hallway.- Which he did by grabbing his flamegun with his left hand, still leaving it slung, and firing it from the hip.

Now, the nice thing about flameguns is that -accuracy doesn't matter.- Think about an earthly flamethrower. Now increase the damage potential by about four times--Flameguns might not be able to hurt power-armor, but they did a -great- job of cooking the poor bastard -inside- the armor. Then increase the range to a max effective of about a hundred meters...admittedly, at that point you weren't 'cooking' anybody...but the cone of flame was still quite capable of setting things on fire.

The canister he had loaded had exactly fourty-five seconds of fuel in it...which should be -more- than enough.

Reygar clamped down the trigger...and charged. Now, normally charging a presumably prepared position without preparation...like the tracer grenade he'd used earlier...was suicide. But one must understand that a cone of fire that pretty much filled the hallway fifty meters in front of Reygar was -very- effective cover.

Because most people would duck under cover...those that didn't would -die.- Either way the desired result was achieved...that being that the other guy -wasn't- shooting at Reygar...

Now, advancing rapidly while firing a flamegun didn't require a lot of thought...so Reygar was preparing himself. His opponents wouldn't know exactly -what- he was until they got within ten meters of him--the radius of the 'sphere of negation' that surrounded him at all times, unless he willed it to expand...which required concentration...which he didn't have -time- to give.

He could extend the radius...yes. But the effect was lessened the farther away from him it got. As it was, as it always would be, use of 'powers' was -impossible- within ten meters of Reygar. Even if the originator was beyond ten meters...he or she -could not- affect -anything- within ten meters of Reygar.

With concentration, he could extend the radius outwards...the biggest radius he'd ever bothered achieving before was five hundred meters. Within -that- circle, 'powers' were merely a -whole- lot harder to use. Lifting a car with your mind would give the equivalent knockback of running ten miles. Uphill.

But he didn't -need- that kind of radius...Reygar was doing -this- one -alone.- Other people would have just slowed him down. 'n that was something he -could not- afford. A response was expected...'n Reygar Talmirion was -not- going to be around when it got there. -Not.-

So...that just meant he had to move faster...which...he started to do. Much faster. Remember. Reygar hailed from a two-gee world. -advantage.-

Research Facility, Hallway

All but three of the clone troopers were left. The others were burnt to a small crisp. All their armour was charcoal black. Making the best of the situtation the clone decided on a terrorist tactic they had been trained in. Collecting all their thermal grenades (14) and holding them to their chests they positioned themselves around on the floor, to look dead so that when the enemy came, they would each let of of the safety which kept the grenade from explodeing even after the pin was pulled.


Grand Admiral Alabar's Flag Ship, "Deaths Price" command bridge

The tech looked at his screen again. There it was again. It was the smallest of electro pulses, but it was there. His radar was made special to detect the electrocal output of all ships in space. But here was some of the smallest he'd ever seen. It seemd imposible that a ship could be that small. Deciding he'd check into it he accessed the ships video links and located the spot where he'd located the pulses. Nothing but empty space. 'Thats not possible,' he thought,' there has to be a ship for there to be a pulse. Its not like a ship cold just disa-.' He sat bolt up.

"Captain! I think I found something!" The tech yelled. Captain Nugara ran over to the tech and listened as the tech explained what he thought.

"Thats foolish man. Its impossible to cloak a ship." Alabar stepped onto the bridge.

"Whats all the commotion?" Nugara explained the situation.

"Send a fighter wing (35 ships) to check into it. I'm getting paranoia at this moment. Our ground forces are being ripped to pieces in their columns. See to it Captain."

OOC: To see my ships and fighters shcematics, follow this Link (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=385797)

Research Facility, Main Chamber

Agatha snuggled closer to the woman who was holding her. 'She's my mother,' Agatha thought, 'she'll keep me safe from all the bad things out there. She'll protect me from the bad One.' The aide, her name Sonya, continued to rock Agatha in her arms a wisper, "Hush now, mothers here."

Volescu checked the video cameras again. He saw the flame engulf the troopers. Deciding he didn't like it he moved through the other cameras still in operation. Suddenly he caught something in his sight. Moving in on it he saw what looked like a hovering battle drone. He himself had made one for a project during his college days a M.I.T. but he'd never seen one which could cause such damage. He watched as one ripped through a wall and then started on another. He glanced at the wall signs to see where they were.

The robots were 7 walls away.

Closing the panel he walked back over to his spot, but Simon stopped him.

"Doctor, will you tell them they're coming?" His face was calm. His voice even calmer. It helped a little to stop Volescu's fast beating heart.

"No. They need not be worried about it."

"You either Doctor, I will take care of the machines. There are but three of them. I can sense them coming closer." Simon turned his head to face a section of wall 20 meters to the right of the main door.

"Your sure you can take them?"

"I believe I can. Since my testing my power has tripled. Even when you tested me Doctor I chose not to show my true self. And be warned. Emotions are what can cause a human to fight a fight where all it lost but he will fight still until death, it makes a man fight with the strength of ten, it causes a friend to step in front of a bullet that would have hit you. You think I am the most powerful, I am in my present powers, but each of us children have an inner power that is but unleashed under concentration. Jonathon is on the verge of releasing the moster within himself, when he will let all loose for one gigantic attack. I myself am aware of when my most powerful ability will be needed, but Agatha is who is the most powerful of the three. For she has suffered much more trama and is a female, and because of that small differece she can unlock a power more frightening than I care to discuss. I but warn you in hopes that it need not be used. I only hope Jonathon and I can stop the One and his allies. Now go, I must prepare." Simon went back to staring at the wall again.

Volescu quietly walked back to his place and glanced at Agatha. It seemed impossible to him that such a small fragile body could possibley hold the kind of power that would frighten Simon.'Impossible,' he thought. Shifting it from his mind he concentrated on the coming storm.


10 miles from the Research Facility, 1st Army Column

The column's commanders thought they were harrased by 20-30 highly dangerous and powerful drones. Most of the forces were in disarray, no orders except to hold present positions. Their blaster fire had so far done little damage. But several squads were bringing their chain guns and "Speaker" missile launchers to bare. The commanding clone, a Colonel, number 213A, was incharge of the column. He motioned for his company officers.

"Break your men into fire teams armed with chain guns and missile launchers. Move in groups of 15 and take out the drones one by one. Once all are destroyed we will continue onto the main objective, we must clear the way. Command says that 4th Armour is moving down the road they will join us in the attack. 2nd and 3rd army are marching down behind them. Fleet says that five Shadaum-class cruisers have positioned themselves over the area in space and on asking can bombard the area. Once the strike team I sent to take out the extraction point I will do so. Now get your fire teams going! Move."

"Sir." With a shout they began organizing their men. Soon a supressive fire was brought down on the drones, heavy chain guns and the powerful voices of the Speaker missile launcher.

6 miles from extraction zone, Companies Alpha, Omega, and Beta

Several drones hit the first three lead tanks. Quickly the others off loaded their troops and the tanks spread out in a wave patern. Firing as they came, the three companies followed by the rest of the tanks (9) attacked the drones.

[[ OOC

List of resources and assets presently in the field by me and rev, and I repeat my request that you clean your post up just a wee bit

The ZMI INT-SEC light recon cruiser the "Payment owed". Presently under silent running conditions and heading out of system after dropping mines, decoys and a single bomb to cover the extraction and destroy the lab.

The Revenian Inquisitorial Frigate "Rack" presently awaiting to provide support for our extraction and the extraction slice ship. I hope. (rev could you tell me what the rack is up too?)


Colonel James Sanderson. Presently in a turnip field in a one man "quick" bunker and surrounded by hidden utility drones.

8 INT-SEC TX180 assassin drones.

The scout TX180's equipped with 40mm flechette rifles - Presently engaged in a roving strike mission against the armoured column.

The 80mm auto mortar equipped TX180 - Presently repositioning for a second salvo and waiting for its mortar to cycle coolant after its first salvo.

The anti tank plasma cannon equipped TX-180 - Presently advancing with the inquisitors.

Vanilla TX-180 one is presently with the plasma cannon equipped drone.

Vanilla TX-180's two, three and four are breaching walls on their way to the main chamber.


The three Revenian inquisitors are advancing towards the main chamber with Reygar in the lead under cover of his flame gun and the drone assault by blade drone one and the plasma cannon equipped drone.

The armoured column should have a smart minefield in its path now and have taken some losses including the odd tank from the Auto mortar barrage however my drones posses insufficient fire power to do more than slow or inconvenience such a force.


Post script: reply in ze mail.

/OOC]]

OOC: I replied via telegram

In high orbit above Thrashia

The N2 anti shipping mine had been passively stareing at the approaching Thrashian fighters for nearly 7 minutes when one of them finally entered its detonation range. The resulting blast designed to stop a ship of the line in its tracks reduced two of the fighters to no more than a thin smear of super heated gas in an instant while the resulting radiation neatly fried 8 of the other fighter crafts systems leaving them tumbling helplessly out of orbital space. Once this happened four of the ECM modules in one of the counter measure arrays hummed into action pumping out huge smart dust images of starships of exotic design and unshielding there tiny reactors to pour radiation directly into space to mimic the drives of warships. The rest of the Thrashian squadron had the misfortune to wander into range of one of the missile shaped objects the Payment Owed had dropped. These were Mk.40 autonomous counter fighter missile pods each packed with 15 ZMI star slam missiles. The pod linked to the image of one of the fake ships now appearing in entire squadrons for a moment in a burst of false communications and fire requests before its bottom “sharp” end blasted off and all 15 Star slams ripped out seeking targets. Five Thrashian fighters were dead before they could so much as rev there drive systems, the rest had the choice of trying to attack the seemingly large and well armed fleet that had just wiped out over half there squadron or to run and wait for reinforcements.

The deception didn’t end there however, threaded throughout the slowly falling field of mini platforms. arrays, missiles and mines canisters cracked open leaking out exotic radiation from the FTL drive fields of a dozen navies. The array was now fully active, and networking, the Thrashian fighters that had been foolish enough to stay in the minefield were blasted to white hod shards as three more star slam pods came to life.



The turnip field

Sanderson grinned as he watched the enemy unlimber mini guns through a microscopic visual pick up one of the drones had smeared on a tank while passing. Conventional fire arms were next to useless against the combat drones. The missiles on the other hand would be an issue, the drones were tough, remarkably so but against anti tank weapons if hit they stood little chance. However no matter that they could not dodge a speeding AT missile in most situations they could certanly move faster than nearly any human could traverse such a missile. The threat however was too high and Sanderson made a tactical choice. The large 15 man teams clumping about with them were easy to spot and more than one of them found themselves cut to ribbons from close range as one of the TX-180 scouts stepped out of the shadow of a tree its white noise generators creating a sphere of eerie calm the scouts as they switched in an instant from long range combat to up close and personal. Subsidiary groups checking in would find disturbing random holes pocked in there line where entire units had simply gone missing. Another unpleasant little trick the TX-180 scouts would pull more than once was to stumble into a squad calling for a medic, while in the pose of a clone trooper. The rest of the squad would find themselves neatly shot, burnt, maimed as a HE needle round blasted of a limb, hurled head first at a tree by arms that could snap steel I beams, or blasted to small piles of unspeakable bits if the TX-180 fired one of its 15mm grenades.

All this time the scouts had been taking every opportunity to plaster as many command transports as they could identify with neat micro bugs or tracker needle rounds and of course singe of communications arrays.

The facilities landing pad

The auto mortar equipped drone waited for a moment as it checked all the targets the scouts had now painted till it finally found the two objects it was waiting for. The counter battery sensors and the main commander of this force. The top pair of arms went back bracing itself and the mortar once more huffed sending canisters into the sky. Another hail of mini ram jet missiles spilled out one from each canister hunting out there prey.




The Facility main chamber

One wall remained. Just one, the drone ran a sensor covered manipulator over it looking for the right spot then it found it. here,what nominally passed for its thoughts stated to its pack mates. Then it drew back and in a single smooth motion that happened faster than any human eye could follow hurled one of its blades through the wall and the power source leaving it buried in the room beyond. Moveing fast it and its two pack mates blasted through the concrete there integral neural strippers, needlers, flame gel throwers, grenade launchers and UV Lasers all hunting targets for less than a second before there whirl wind of death emerged . They were heading straight for Agatha almost faster than the eye could follow neatly dodging the few weapons that were hastily brought to bare upon them before picking up the tables and using them to push the remains or in some cases still intact humans from there path. Those that were unarmed the drones left with nothing more than a mild stun needle round buried somewhere in their person, leaving even the two male adepts stunned by their full combat speed.
Those who were armed however would find themselves dead. Volescu barely had time to turn to face them before one of the drones artfully sheared of the hand he was holding his pistol with a blade while the other three blades neatly dissected his body like so many creatures he had held under his scalpel. The drone paid barely any attention as two of its blades sliced through Volescu’s head. It was already targeting Agatha with a flame gel round, moving faster than any mere human could ever hope to respond too.


The corridor leading to the main chamber

The TX-180 advancing with the blades stopped as a wall of flame engulfed it and the troopers it was following. As the corridor cleared and Reygars foot falls became louder its heart beat sensor noticed two still living clones and the mayhem that was happening beyond. It forwarded this information to its less perceptive heavy weapons pack mate. This drone drew forth the huge wide snouted coolant finned anti tank weapon, sighted upon the main door and fired a rolling bar of star hot plasma that flash carbonised the two remaining clone troopers and illuminated the corridor with an actinic blue white light. The two thermal grenades detonated but were barely noticed as the plasma round expended itself upon the door, blasting it into scything metal shards. The roar of the blast filled the corridor and the room beyond drowning out the sounds of bloody conflict and sizzling carbonised flesh.

It was time for the inquisitors to go to work now.


In low orbital space Thrashia.
The bomb lazily coasted towards the planet, its sensors telling it that it was still in vacuum. In its heart circuit checks began.

Reygar grinned. Yes, it was that -particular- grin that reminded one of nothing so much as a Nightside Devilmorph about to rip, rend, and devour an unsuspecting intruder. That incredibly predatorial grin that caused chills to run the length of the spine of any sane sentient individual...

That grin held a promise...'I've found you. Now I'm going to come kill you.'

Reygar shook blood free from his Warblade, and the silver-shod black iridium-toed combat boots he'd been given by a close friend...and the spurs that he almost always wore with him...sounded his methodical advance to the main chamber in an effective and nerve-wracking manner.

It was a Northfell thing, those spurs. Best not to get into it.

He unslung his flamegun and tossed it over his shoulder...uncanny accuracy, really, considering the way it arced perfectly to the point where Kallisto's left hand shot out and caught the flamegun by the sling-strap...

It wouldn't be needed for the oncoming conflict.

About ten meters from the main chamber, he increased his speed...dramatically. People always underestimated Revenians. It was a fact of life. They looked so much like normal humans that you tended to forget that they were from two-gee planets. You tended to forget on a one-gee world, they were operating under only one half of the effective 'weight' that they were used to.

Or, you remember it...and you assumed that they would be slow...or that they would be clumsy...or any other number of things. You'd be wrong. Reygar set his left shoulder forwards...not to ram the door--that would be quite pointless at this time--but because it was the first step in the maneuver he was planning to execute.

He was only a few feet from the melted slag that was the remnant of the door when he twisted and jumped, his warblade flickered forward in a blurring arc, clearing a path through the melted metal...and then he followed, clearing the door nicely...hitting ground in a crouch, and rising slowly to his full height, wildfire eyes flickering from beneath the shadow of his hair...

His grin had never left his face...and now the three adepts could see their enemy (presumably.) See with their eyes a grinning demon, duster and cloak and flickering prehensile tail capped with a razor-edged blue-tinted Eldensteel knifeblade...

Yet they could only see him with the eyes the lord gave them. Any sort of psi-sense...magic-sense...sense beyong the five natural to most humans...wouldn't cut it. To such methods of detection, Reygar Talmirion wasn't there. Simply...was. Not. There.

He took in the assembled individuals with a sweeping gaze, grinned even wider...and spoke.

"So. Who's first?"

Posted by Zepplin Manufacturers
One wall remained. Just one, the drone ran a sensor covered manipulator over it looking for the right spot then it found it. here,what nominally passed for its thoughts stated to its pack mates. Then it drew back and in a single smooth motion that happened faster than any human eye could follow hurled one of its blades through the wall and the power source leaving it buried in the room beyond. Moveing fast it and its two pack mates blasted through the concrete there integral neural strippers, needlers, flame gel throwers, grenade launchers and UV Lasers all hunting targets for less than a second before there whirl wind of death emerged . They were heading straight for Agatha almost faster than the eye could follow neatly dodging the few weapons that were hastily brought to bare upon them before picking up the tables and using them to push the remains or in some cases still intact humans from there path. Those that were unarmed the drones left with nothing more than a mild stun needle round buried somewhere in their person, leaving even the two male adepts stunned by their full combat speed.
Those who were armed however would find themselves dead. Volescu barely had time to turn to face them before one of the drones artfully sheared of the hand he was holding his pistol with a blade while the other three blades neatly dissected his body like so many creatures he had held under his scalpel. The drone paid barely any attention as two of its blades sliced through Volescu’s head. It was already targeting Agatha with a flame gel round, moving faster than any mere human could ever hope to respond too.

OOC: Not to be rude but this seems to me a bit god-modding. I alone post my casualties, I agree to the fact of your drones going after my power source, but two things; 1) Your drones could not know to single out Agatha, thus implying god-modding (2) Having my main doctor and a major character loose his hand when he would most likely be crouching behind a metal table is absurd. I will be ignoring this part of youre post, except for the fact that the drones entered and destroyed the power generator.

IC:

The lights went out when the metal sword slammed into the generator. This was soon followed by a large explosion. All the aides including Volescu ducked. Bits of rock shooting around. Coughing he Volescu looked around the room. Then suddenly to the door as it too suddenly ripped open, a blue blade tearing it aside like it was made of paper. The door was broken in and cleared. He heard the stomp of boots but didn't see anyone, then suddenly everything began to slow, time seemed almost to....

Simon stood before the drones. They were frozen within his power of stopping time. He smiled up at them. Walking forward he reached up to each drone and took out cables and turned off switches to destroy the drones as soon as Simon started time again. He did the same to all three drones. Then smiling still he walked back to where he had been then started time again. He watched as his handy-work to action and the drones suffered loosing several key components.

Out of the corner of his eye Simon watched as Reygar entered the room. And just as he smiled and said, " Who's first?", Jonathon erupted. His eyes were shining a currupt yellow-green his body coursed with lines of mutation and his whole outline glowed with an errie green light.

-You will be the first-

Simon watched as Jonathon launched himself at Reygar, then suddenly his body dispeared in a cloud of smoke. Not only Simon but Reygar seemed taken aback as well. With another puff of smoke Jonathon appeared behind Reygar and just as quick grabbed hold of him.

-Now you die with me-

The growing green light became unbearable, Simon shielded his eyes. Jonathons body exploded within a centralized blast of all his concentrated energy. His arms still rapped around Reygar in a death grip.

-Boom-

The explosion was fantastic. Shards of green light sped through-out the room, like the ancient firework displays. Black smoke hung around the spot where Simon had seen Reygar and Jonathon standing.

Then suddenly he heard a girl crying. He turned and looked at Agatha. The woman, Sonya, who had been holding Agatha was in her arms. A piece of rock londged into her forehead from the blast the drones had caused. Agatha was holding her tight and sobbing.

"NOO! MOMMA! NOOO! DON'T LEAVE ME! PLEASE...I PROMISE TO BE GOOD! PLEASE MOMMA! COME BACK, COME BACK."

Simon looked on with pity. Then turned back to the door as he sensed others like him as well as three interesting humans. They entered the room, another drone was with them.

Agatha looked up and saw the drone and them. She stood up, setting Sonya's body aside. Her eyes were glowing a paleful white. Her hair was slightly sticking up. Suddenly she was hovering slightly above the floor, her feet bearly above it. Like an ancient Valkyrie of old she stared at the armoured figures.

"YOU KILLED MY MOTHER! YOU WILL ALL DIE!"

White like broke out from her body, it danced into beautiful paterns and formed behind Agatha, white glowing wings. Halos of white light apeared around her arms and legs. Her eyes light shining beacons.

"DIE!"

A ball of white energy the size of most modern cars formed infront Agatha within a second. With a wave of her hand she sent it barreling towards the armoured figures.

Simon barely had time to shield himself and the others.

(OOC: Alright...Thrashia-mun, look up 'Hypocrite' in the dictionary. You tell ZMI not to call your casualties...then YOU kill off one of -MY- NAMED, VIEWPOINT CHARACTERS! LOOK TO YOURSELF BEFORE YOU ACCUSE OTHERS!)

IC:
Reygar was not, in fact, taken aback when the boy disappeared...because he didn't. Couldn't. Because within ten meters of a Wild Psion...YOUR POWERS WERE USELESS Period. It didn't matter if you were a fortune-teller, a mutant with strange powers, or a bloody god-damned GOD...YOU COULD NOT, and I repeat, COULD NOT, use 'powers.' Regardless of what those powers may or may not be.

So...as Jonathon failed to vanish...Reygar's left hand clamped down onto his Warblade's grip and thus, wielding the sword two-handed, he brought it up faster than the eye could see in an arc that took it through Jonathon's neck.

(Now, I don't know. Can Jonathon survive being beheaded? Your call, not mine. See, I -don't- play other peoples casualties.)

Then Reygar was moving...and perhaps the three...children...would come to that same series of revelations as all the others throughout the millenia...

First. Having un-natural powers did not make one a god. Because there was always somebody better than you.

Second. Arrogance was equivalent to stupidity.

Third. In the oncoming few seconds, they were probably going to die. Or suffer a fate worse than death. Because they were arrogant, because they thought their powers made them invincible...and mostly, because they failed to see the warnings.

Reygar Talmirion was not Human. He had never -been- Human. He was Ascended, that ancient race of silver-haired immortals who had sheltered a thousand systems...until a single power had come along and done away with them when they were most vulnerable.

The Ascended, as a species, were done. Less than a dozen remained, by -anyone's- best estimate. Yet they left their mark. Because the Ascended had interbred with those who they had sheltered...and the Halfling Ascended had resulted.

The Ascended had understood. Their 'powers' didn't make them invincible. Those powers made them -weak.- The possession of those exposed them to danger of arrogance.

So. Though the Ascended were finished, and had been for five hundred thousand years...their children lingered on.

Reygar's lips curled into a death's-head grin, and the white-hot energy of his Warblade's slice-field crackled...

So. When Agatha unleashed her...attack...he calmly interjected himself before it. The sheer power was impressive...damned impressive...so he tightened his field of negation. Tightened it down...

His right hand released the grip of his Warblade, allowing the left hand to guide the sword to rest at his left side...then the right hand came up, fingers spread wide...

The ball of energy came into contact with his hand...he had tightened his powers down that much...and vanished. He hadn't needed to tighten down his 'aura,' but Reygar had a proper sense of the dramatic...

Then he turned his attention to the girl who had produced the ball, and spoke.

"Impressive. Very impressive. Dangerous, you are, child...a shame, what they did to you. You lack control...and I can't have that. So."

His hand, still outstretched...tensed...then slowly closed, the tendons begin to bulge, as if he were crushing something in that powerful grip of his...which, of course...he was.

The wildfire in his eyes flared up, mirrored in the wildfire that flared up about his hand...and about Agatha's head. Like a Halo, really...a Halo that slowly, slowly closed in...

The break-point was noticeable, because it came at the -exact- point his hand tightened into a fist.

(Agatha -can- escape this in two ways. Either she dies, or Reygar does. Three outcomes: Reygar dies. The whole facility goes up, everyone in it dies...because Doc (ZMI) and I believe in keeping a second string. Two. She dies. Things move on. Three. She Breaks. She'll get out of this alive...admittedly, slave to Reygar's will...but in the end, is that any different from what she is now?)

OOC: You'll notice I didn't say that Reygar died, I simply said that a black cloud hung over where he had stood, meaning you could have made a spooky intrance from the smoke....o well. Lets just say for Jonathons sake and sacrifice you just surfived the explosion. Give me until 2moro to post officially.

OOC: I will adress your statements one at a time.

1) I agree

2) What I meant was the feeling everyone gets in when they know they are about to face a battle. And I hve nothing against you killing off a few of my aides, but dealing damage to my main character is a no-no god-mod, which my friend Parlim agreed with me on.

3) I had grander designs for Volescu to die by, not by a hacking, which was stopped by Simon, you didn't take in that equation. Simon has the power to stop time for a short period of time. He did and took out some very important componants of your drones. Thus causing them to fall apart. Apparently.

4)Its not inacurate to form because there is no doctrine to an rp except when their exists rules other than no godmoding. I refer to Dungeon and Dragons as an example.

5) As you would also know that Simon was just waiting for the drones to appear so he was moer than ready to intercept them.

6) This is naother major fault on your part. Agatha would be the one who would be showing the least amount of power on any detection apparatus since she was not until after the death of Sonya using her powers. Jonathon was preparing his for one huge kamikazi attack and Simon was summoning his ability to stop time. So Agatha would not have appeared on your scopes. And she was located the furthest form anyone, not remotely close to Volescu who was at then hiding from the blast behind the metal overturned tables.

7) If reygar is a, to use the word "blank", in terms of psionics ten he shouldn't be able to wield them either. Hes either one way or the other, no in-between. Thus if hes both then Jonathons attack would have had some affect.


And since it seems we will be arguing over this for awhile I suggest we halt the rp. I will allow the deaths of Volescu, Jonathon, and Agatha. Simon however has his shield so survived with say three or so staff. I will be posting an ending, your ship escapes into hyperspace or whatever. Simon is found among the remains barely alive with a few other aides. As far as it went I enjoyed this rp and hope we can find ourselves doing more...less "magic" persons type battles.

(OOC: I'm just gonna respond to the bit about Reygar, I think.

Alright...I thought I explained this already...waaaay back there in like, the first couple posts I made about my team. But I'll go ahead and do so again, in simpler straight-forward terms.

Reygar=Wild Psion.

Wild Psion=Misnomer. (That means that the term 'Wild Psion' is misleading. Reygar is neither 'Wild' nor is he a 'Psion.')

A Wild Psion (Wilder) is something of an anti-psion. Psions/mages/whateveryouwannacall'em operate by 'Breaking the laws of reality.' Massive energy balls and time stops don't normally happen. Wilders, are, as I said, anti-psions.

Put simply, Psions can use the power of their mind (or whatever) to bend reality. Wilders can use the power of reality to alter the mind. That is, of course, just a part of the story.

Wilders aren't 'blanks' because they're somehow resistant to psionic/magic/whatever effects. They're 'blanks' because psionic/magic/whatever stuff doesn't work inside a ten-meter radius sphere of them. You can stand there and throw magical fireballs at a Wilder all day...they'll vanish the -instant- they hit that 10-meter boundary.

Wilders also have the ability to reach out and 'enforce' the rules of reality on another individual. That individual would then be unable to use any sort of psi/magic/whatever until the Wilder let up.

Finally, Wilders have the ability to 'Break' an individual. This is where that 'Using reality to alter the mind' thing comes from, 'n this is what Reygar did to Agatha. Put simply, the Wilder crushes the psion/mage/whatever's ability to 'use power' permanently. Such an enduring change has other side-effects, the most obvious being the hint of wildfire in the eyes that such a Broken (Man/Woman) acquires. The other drastic change is that the free will of said individual is also broken.

The limitation on -this- particular power (and only this power) is that the psion/mage/whatever has to have used their 'power' in the Wilder's presence before the Wilder can Break him/her.

In Summary...Reygar isn't a Psion, and he doesn't possess psionic powers. He is a Wilder, which is a whole different boat entirely. I'm pretty sure I already stated all the above previously, if I didn't, I'm sorry.

Anyways, as to your little compromise, I dunno. -That- is Doc(ZMI-mun)'s call, not mine. Not my bomb, after all. But...Agatha isn't dead. Not physically anyways. Reygar is Revenian, meaning he's got an instilled sense of Chivalry, meaning that he wouldn't just kill Agatha out of hand. She'll probably end up in a nunnery on Pyre or somesuch. I dunno. Not my problem.

-Rev)

Alabar stood beside the crater. The bomb had caused the facility to very nearly be erased from he face of the planet. He watched as clone troopers shifted through twisted fire-blackened pieces of metal. So far all they had found was the small remains of a veiw guards as well as the bodies of the clone troopers stationed outside the facility. Sighing at the loss of such technology, and research. So far Alabar's computer slicers had not so found any files pertaining to Volescu's files on the project.

He walked back to the command tent. Inside several of his aides were shifting through burnt out computer towers and hard drives. He sat down and began puffing on his cigar. An aide stepped foreward and handed him a cup of recaf.
Suddenly an clone officer came running through the tent flap.

"Sir, we've found some bodies!" Alabar stood up and followed the clone officer back to the crater. From the bottom several clone troopers were carrying stretchers. Alabar took a look at who they were. One was an aide of Volescu's and the other was Simon.

"Get the boy into emergency operation emediately!" He checked the boys pulse, found it, but it was very weak.

"Move, move! This kid better live or I'll have all your hides!"

Simon came back from the brink. When the bomb had hit he had created the most pwoerful shield he could muster around himself and another person. He had been walking towards a blackened fisure in the ground, the air still, no signs of life in sight. Then usddenly he opened his eyes and found men in white masks moving around him and speaking. A light shined down from the ceiling into his eyes. He heard one of them speak.

"Tell Admiral Alabar, the boys made it, hes made it!"

After several days of recuporation Simon was moved to a new unkown location by Admiral Alabar, to continue his usefulness to Thrashia and continue his training.