NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Just a heads up folks, unless you care to TG me please don't claim to have intel on whats going on here. This isn't exactly secret but it is taking place behind very, very sealed borders and unless Crimson makes some kind of announcement no one is going to be hearing about it.

It's been a long time since I've been active... too long. I bid everyone I haven't met and everyone I have greetings

IC:
“Are you familiar with the Wampyr project, being carried out in the Spartan lands?”
“Of course, they use our technology to create super-soldiers. I was of the opinion that everyone knew.”
“Yes, I was merely checking. You are correct, they use tech and processes developed in Padmasa to their own goals. We canceled the project after the first rebellion… hopefully our allies will choose their subjects better.”
“What does any of this have to do with you using my facilities?”
“Nothing, and everything. You see, we need to re-form our genetic warrior groups and your men are best suited to what will be needed.”
“…”
“Are you familiar with Wolfstar’s Legion?”
“No.”
“They were the picked men for the first experiment, the most loyal and best soldiers in our army, loyal followers of their kommander, Wolfstar. They failed… as did our second attempt at the desired modifications.”
“How so?”
“They… all of them … went mad. At the exact same time, all of them went insane. They seemed to lose all intellect and reasoning ability. They were driven by their most base urges and killed many. With this third generation we have removed the flaw but we are concerned that something similar to the Madness Season could still strike.”
“And you want me to take care of the problem if they do.”
“Yes, of course. You will be well rewarded…”
“The Masters have asked and so I obey, payment is merely a token thing.
“We will begin work immediately then.”

Typhus walked down the long line of nanite vats, row upon row of them filled the vast chamber. He wore a suit of jet black Reaper armour that cast an eerie reflection in the great tubes. Typhus’ features were lit by the harsh red light that illuminated each tank, making him look more sinister than usual, his long white hair and well trimmed beard appeared to be the colour of blood. “Why have you called me? These tanks full of your pups are of no interest to me, Night.”

“No, they wouldn’t be,” the Illithid that had been trailing at Typhus’ elbow spoke carefully. It wore long black robes that dragged along the floor with a distinct hiss. “But these are young and newly created. We have several fully grown warriors which I think you will find very interesting.” The Illithid gestured toward the great metal door at the end of the row.

“I should hope so, for all the time and resources these beasts have taken from us,” Typhus muttered and he walked even faster, his cloak billowing behind him.

As the pair stepped through the massive door Typhus came to a rather sudden halt. Ahead of them, standing at attention was a row of thirty of the beasts, yet these were different. “Give me the specifications.” Typhus muttered to the Illithid while he resumed his walk, coming toward the creatures.

“These are the fully grown Wulfen my lord. Each is a distinct individual yet they all have a sort of pack-sense that links them, allowing instant communication and knowledge of the condition of the others. They are all roughly two point two meters tall, and weigh about one hundred and thirty kilograms. Their skeletons have been reinforced, and their naturally keen senses have also been augmented. They have the best reflexes of anything alive.”

Typhus nodded and stopped before the first. The creatures were massive, but more lanky than broad. They were amazingly muscular and had midnight skin. Each had a face more wolf than man but the origins were clearly that of men, the intellect that in those dark eyes was a very sinister thing. They had muzzles, fangs as long as his little finger too… The eyes were of particular interest for they were those of wolves, gleaming the little available light. They were covered with a thin layer of black fur it seemed, so fine that it was unnoticeable on the face, though very noticeable otherwise. Typhus reached down and tapped the arm of one and his finger rang against metal.

“We have grafted forceplate strategically on their bodies, removing the need for additional armour. The strength enhancements that they grew with are sufficient that one could throw you, Typhus. Moreover, you will note the elongated ears and backwards bending legs. They are built to see, hear, and smell any enemy as well as bring the fight to them very quickly.”

“What will they fight with, though?”

“Ah, you see that is the interesting part. They have claws, but we felt that we could do better… A modified silver gun can be placed on the left forearm, and we have high hopes for training them with swords.”

“Interesting. I take it you have specially designed armour for them?”

“Yes and no. We have a helmet that features a HUD and several other pieces of equipment, as well as a few other pieces of armour but other than that they do not need it. It has been built onto them.”

“Heh. You were correct this does interest me, but I do not see why I need to know any of this.”

“We have determined that you are going to train their Kommander, Wolfstar. And your weapons masters will be the ones to teach his soldiers. You see, normal training will not work, only your best troops could fight these beings and so only you could be used to train them.”

“I thought Wolfstar died in the first generation.”

“Well, yes. However the leader we have selected has taken the name.”

“Ah, so Wolfstar’s Legion will once again walk the earth, eh?”

“Precisely. How long until you can begin bringing these warriors into the fold?”

“A month perhaps.”

“Very good, we look forward to seeing these warriors on the battlefield. How long does your training take?”

“Ten years, but I’m sure I can find some way to accelerate it.”






Colonel Usergi Shiven enjoyed the planet, it was a peaceful place if somewhat boring. He had been stationed here for three weeks to allow his scout team some rest in an easy posting that was still wild enough to keep them sharp. The Padmasans used the base for the same purpose although they seemed a little over zealous in both their rest and their keeping sharp. He walked the parameter of the base looking out into the glowing gloom of the surrounding forests, massive floodlights at the top of the armourcrete bunker provided illumination for a hundred meters around them.

He sighed and started for the bunker’s doors, his men were fine with watch duty and he had had a long day of close combat drills with his Padmasan counterpart, the insufferably arrogant wretch. And with a suddenness that stopped everything the lights blinked out. His men shouted and he heard the distinct sound of weapons being loaded… normally the men didn’t kept them loaded while on watch too much potential for accidents among those select few doing night stealth drills.

“What the hell is going on?” he hissed into the comm only to hear static. He turned it off and shouted for his second. The man arrived in a moment, he was the watch commander for this half of the night. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t know, sir. The Padmasans only do these kind of drills when they have watch… usually. But it’s been weeks since we last tried a practical joke on them and they already got us back. Twice. Besides, they never mess with the comm links.”

“I don’t care what it isn’t, tell me what the hell it is? Get me Kang!”

“You don’t have to shout or send a runner,” the Padmasan said as he stepped out of the bunker doors. He walked calmly despite lacking goggles or a flashlight like the Spartans had. “I’m not responsible for this, nor are my men. We want to know what is going on just as much as you.”

“Shit. Alright, send some of your boys out. Double the watch and everyone in the base is to partner up.”

“My men know the night assault procedures, I’ll send teams out to help keep watch though,” Kang turned and began walking back into the base, then he turned smartly and drew a chainsword from his belt. He tossed into the air and Usergi was amazed to see it land in the ground standing straight up at his feet. “You’ll probably need that,” he barked with a harsh laugh and headed inside.

Usergi hefted the massive sword and began organizing his men, he sent a small team to check out the generators. Thirty minutes later none had come back and the lights weren’t on. He growled and walked to the tiny armoured shed that was the generator’s home and threw open the door. He stepped back in horror just as fast. The shed was covered in blood, entrails hung from the ceiling and limbs were strewn about. He stepped in carefully, trying to ignore the sound of his boots falling in the pools of blood. He swung the flashlight around looking for anything recognizeable… nothing. All the armour, tags, heads, everything had been removed except for the bits of gore that coated the walls and hung around him.

He stepped out of the shed and shouted the alarm, yet it was already too late. At the last second gunfire erupted from the darkness as massive shadows detached themselves and charged the base. Usergi shot one in the chest, he was sure of it, yet it kept running. His men were falling, though they bravely fought on trying to take their ambushers with them or at least save their honour. Usergi called the retreat and ran for the Bunker doors, his men falling back slowly still firing. He heard screams horrifying things, and a strange deep howl that resembled old earth wolves from the holos he had seen.

As he approached the door a shadow dropped from above him, the creature was massive and horrible. He raised his pistol on instinct and got a shot off before it was backhanded from him almost casually. He took his chainsword in two hands and chopped sideways, at just below chest height for the beast yet it leaned back with surprising agility and then swung at him with a sword of its own. He managed to parry the blow at the last second sparks flying from two chainswords coming together. The creature snarled at him and instead of pulling away from the locked blades it stepped forward and push sent him flying through the air to land sprawled out three meters back.

Suddenly he became aware of the silence, there was no firing, no screams, and only the faintest of gurgling or whimpering as the killers did their silent work. The creature that had thrown him walked stepped forward casually, it seemed. It looked down at him and then with a sharp kick sent his chainsword flying into the darkness.

“Clear the bunker,” it growled at its companions in a harsh yet terrifyingly deep voice. Then it looked down at Usergi, “You are the first human I have ever killed. I will savor the taste of your flesh and use your skull as a stein!” He watched as the creature’s chainsword descended and then darkness.

"... and that's where the video goes out." The sound continued for a few more seconds before it ended as well.

They had just watched a presentation from General Anira Taisho, the overseer of the sector. Kentaka sat back and stared out the window into the empty space. "How many men were stationed there?" he asked.

"We had two full scout teams, so thirty men," the General replied. "What should we do?"

"We should go back," Lord Meitou piped in. "Send entire divisions of men, and hunt down who or whatever did this to us. Orbital bombardment, manned and unmanned tanks and walkers, air support, and a full ground contingent of Tekken."

"Meitou, even the Padmasans don't know what happened, and we were stationed on their base on their planet. We can't just throw all those men into something nobody understands." Kentaka always thought Meitou was too eager to start a fight, and he could only imagine what Crimson Sparta would be like when Meitou was in charge. "Get one of our cruisers in orbit, and have an intelligence ship monitor the surface. And absolutely no patrols to the planet until we know what's going on. Understood?"

The men at the meeting nodded in agreement, and Kentaka stood up. "Good. Now, please excuse me. I have important work to do."

Kentaka made his decision as the ship was nearing its rendesvous point with General Taisho's new "aerial support," a Mikuma Class heavy cruiser. The general, Meitou, and Kentaka met in the briefing room.

"Gentlemen, we're going to send a limited team to the surface. No human combatants. What's the Tekken complement on the Myoko?"

"We have seventy-five," Meitou answered. "Might I also add that this could be a good chance to try out our newest soldiers?"

Kentaka looked at Meitou. "Are they ready?"

"Hai."

General Taisho interjected. "Excuse me, what what new soldiers?"

Kentaka and Meitou looked at each other. If General Taisho was going to be in command of the whole sector's ground operations, he'd better know about the Wampyrs.

"General, you're gonna like this." Meitou explained the entire blood transfusion process, turning a dead body into something useful again. "And when they come out of their training, the nanites are accustomed to them and work to enhance their sight, hearing, brain power, memory, and-- best of all-- reflexes."

Taisho sat back in amazement. Whatever was on the planet, the Spartans would need better reflexes to stop "them."

"They're in the cargo bay. Take as many as you'd like, but make sure they have a Tekken in every team."

*****

The Myoko arrived at the planet and set up its orbital pattern. General Taisho had set up a platoon, made of individual teams of three, each with 2 Wampyrs and one Tekken. Twenty-seven men in all, the platoon boarded the dropship and made its way towards the surface.

"Warmaster, the Spartan response team has arrived. Judging by the messages being sent we have a high-ranking general aboard," a technician down the line said. Typhus grunted and walked over. “I’m not sure who else is present but the general is a definite.”

“Good work, where are they?” Typhus asked looking down at the display.

“The ship has just entered geo-synch over the site, sir. Our clean up teams finished an hour ago and have yet to leave sir… their presence is masked more than enough and they moved off but we need to move in quickly and create some traffic for them to get away.”

Typhus reached down with one clawed hand and squeezed the man’s shoulder. The man gave a sharp intake of breath but made no ever sound as his claws dug deep into the flesh. “Do not presume to tell me how to run a campaign boy. You are a technician on my flagship but are not nearly old enough to offer me advice. Get yourself cleaned up!” Typhus withdrew his hand, letting the blood drip onto the deck plates and walked back to his command throne.

Typhus sat and began issuing orders, his men scrambled to attack positions and three packs of Draconians who had merely been waiting for the signal to board their dropships and head to earth.



General Taisho sat in his state room eating dinner, waiting for the first reports from the away team when everything went to hell. Warning klaxons and lights began flashing, calling for everyone to get into emergency stations. He rose quickly, the ship hadn’t moved in hours save for tiny bursts from it’s orbital thrusters, nothing should be wrong. As he ran down the hall a technician, his nametag read Akira Nakashima, intercepted him. “What’s going on? Are we under attack?”

“No sir, just typical Padmasan showboating. A strike cruiser dropped cloak twenty meters above us, immediately tripping all of our collision warnings,” technician Nakashima explained quickly. “They haven’t moved yet and we are having trouble with the override for the collision warnings, it’s odd. The override command in the main system isn’t working. I assure you that we’re working on it, sir.”

“Good see that you do,” General Taisho said and then resumed his jog to the bridge. He was met by both Vice Admiral Heihachiro and Captain Nomura both of whom looked startled… the captain with a rather large stain from the wine he had been drinking when the alarms had gone off. “Any idea who the hell is in command of that ship?”

“No sir, they haven’t answered our hails yet,” Nomura hissed, glaring at everyone and looking for all the world like he wanted to take a gun and go find the other ship’s captain himself.

“General Taisho,” A technician shouted, “They’ve finally answered. I’m patching it through to the main screen, you can talk to him via your personal comm.”

The main screen went blank, and then it suddenly showed a massive figure in a suit of full black armour lounging on a throne, one leg thrown over the chair’s left arm. He wore a deep black and purple cloak that fell about the foot of the thrown. “Good evening, General. I hope I didn’t disturb your men too much.”

“Arrogant bastard,” Nomura muttered, “Move your ship, Padmasan. It’s enough that you managed to move in this close without being noticed!” He shouted the last, making sure Taisho’s comm would pick it up, it did the job admirably. The Padmasan nodded slowly.

“Oh, I shall in a moment. Oh, by the by, your override works now,” The Padmasan replied, his smirk was actually audible. “I hope to see you gentlemen on the ground, I merely wanted to announce my presence. I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

The link died just then as did the alarms as the technicians once again tried the override command.

“That son of a bitch!” Nomura shouted, “He did something to our computers, I don’t know how. We should have him hauled up on charges, I’m sure the Masters would be happy to do it.”

Those damn Padmasans, Heihachiro thought. Nobody said it, but everyone on the bridge was thinking the same thing.

"At least it's consistient with what we know about them," Captain Nomura said. "Always expect the unexpected. Raise the lower shields and extend them out to fifteen meters. We'll see that they don't come near us again."

General Taisho was still amazed at what just happened. He had met the Padmasan ground troops and knew they pulled the occasional prank, but it was not as important as with trillion-dollar space ships and thousands of lives. And this was what the Stellar Corps had to deal with every day...

"Captain, go get a new uniform," Heihachiro said. "Comms, run the audio and cross reference it with voice samples from all known Padmasan soldiers." He turned to Taisho. "General, your troops are prepared to go. We'll keep a visual lock on you from above. If anything goes wrong down there, we'll be ready to take you back."

General Taisho simply nodded and walked off the bridge. He wanted to meet the man he saw in the viewscreen, who said they would meet on the ground. What he felt like doing was punching the guy in the face, but he decided it wouldn't look good in front of the men. That, and the other guy didn't look like the kind of person who would simply take a punch.

*****

"Ten hut!" the captain yelled as Taisho walked into the docking bay. The Tekken were already standing upright, but the Wampyrs moved from their resting position to attention. There were three dropships, each with three of the combined Tekken-Wampyr teams and one human officer. The human was there to make the decisions and give the orders, less any of the others decide to make their own rules.

"Men, there are many things we must do on the surface, and an important thing is showing force. Your teams have been chosen for the purpose of telling the Padmasans that we mean business. Your orders are to get to the bottom of this situation. Do not attack unless attacked, understood?"

"Hai!" was the answer from the man-corpse-robot contingent.

*****

The dropships left the Myoko a few minutes later, the Tekken visual feeds already being streamed back to Heihachiro's terminal on the bridge. The Crimson Guard platoon entered the atmosphere and was taken lower and lower until the pilots could see the beleagured site that had not long ago been a functioning station.

Upon landing, the troops rushed out of the ships and formed a perimeter. When all was clear, General Taisho emerged and looked around for a moment. There were supposed to be Padmasans there too, but it appeared they would have to wait for them.

“Arrogant scum,” Typhus slid off the command throne and began walking. “Captain move us to roughly a kilometer away. Tell your gunners to track that ship and anything that comes out of it, don’t fire unless fired upon or unless I order it personally.” Typhus left the command deck a pair of guards following a pace behind him, their weapons held at the ready. He walked through the darkened frozen passages of the Cult warship. All warships were kept at a “normal” temperature for Padmasans and just barely bright enough to work in. Of course, that was still very dark and cold enough to turn water into ice in a span of several minutes.

“Black, see to it that they are carrying a Quantum Transponder, if something comes up I want my men and I to be able to get down there in 30 seconds. Valdemar, you’ve got command of this, get one of my cloaks and use the audio generator to take care of sounding like me.”

“Yes, Warmaster,” both grunted and took off at a run. Typhus grinned and proceeded through the darkened halls until he reached a tiny room at the base of the ship’s comm spire. He entered quickly and took a seat at the command throne there, instantly the screens that covered the walls of the circular room lit up, each a different Draconian’s vid uplink. He slaved the main screen to Valdemar and sat back to watch the show.

*********

Valdemar stepped into the dropship quickly. He had donned one of Typhus’ cloaks and a sword. He was not fond of traditional swords, preferring to use a pair of pistols and his claws but if he had to act as Typhus he should look the part.

“Alright you apes, we’ve got a job to do. You know why we’re here… we lost a ‘light duty’ outpost,” he sneered inside his helmet, the very concept of light duty was a joke to a Draconian. “And the Spartans need their hand held while they try and find out what happened. We go in, we accompany them at all times, if one of them starts sleepwalking I want you two steps behind him! Let blood be your watchword, hate your strength, and Death your companion!”

The assembled company gave a shout and the hatches closed. Thirty seconds later the three dropships were hurtling toward the planet, their passengers had strapped themselves in, except Valdemar who took a handhold next to the assault ramp. You should always lead from the front as Typhus usually said.

A minute later they reached the ground, none touched down however. The assault ramps fell and the Draconians walked out casually, several groups hauling massive crates marked as ammo, supplies, or repair equipment. Valdemar looked at the remains of the bunker, or rather at the bunker. It was completely intact save for the outer wall of sandbags which had fallen over in several places. About two hundred meters to his left the Spartans had landed, their men forming a perimeter around the dropships, while their commander stood in the middle looking things over. “That Spartan CO should get a target painted on his back it would make him that much less likely to get shot. Enemy’d think he’s a decoy,” Valdemar said over the comms to snickering from his men.

Behind him the dropships took off again, while his men began walking toward the fort at a rather leisurely pace. “Gunnlaug, you’re running liaison. Tell them to either set up a camp and begin entrenching or to follow us in. Packs one and two are with me, we are not sleeping out in the middle of nowhere. I want this bunker searched from floor to ceiling before local nightfall. That gives us three hours!”

Valdemar stepped over the blood-soaked sandbag wall and looked around at the blood coated ground. He nodded and began walking for the base entrance a pair of men running ahead to take point. Gunnlaug meanwhile detached from Pack 3 and headed toward the Spartan lines at a walk, his pack-mates were setting up around the bunk, deploying floating cameras that would catalog everything outside the bunker for later holos.

Taisho was giving orders to the captain standing next to him. "Have teams one and two start collecting the bodies. Put them aboard the dropships and get them back to the Myoko. Hopefully they're not too decomposed."

"Hai," the captain responded, pointing at the teams and relaying the orders.

Taisho received a message in his helmet from the ship. "General, there are three Padmasan dropships heading for the surface, near your position."

The general looked up and saw three dark specks against the blue sky. They became larger and larger as the ships descended towards the surface, eventually resembling Padmasan ships. They landed-- no, hovered, Taisho saw-- on the south side of the camp while his team was on the west. He watched as they casually strolled out of their ships without any regard for who or what may have been waiting for them. Arrogant bastards, he thought. He watched as their men broke off and the dropships rose to the sky as easily as they'd fallen.

Captain Aihara was finished sending the teams off and walked back to Taisho. The comm team was left with them, one Wampyr, one regular Tekken, and a specially-fitted Tekken that monitored the entire spectrum of comm bands, both light and sound. The Wampyr also wore a comm band monitor, but the Tekken could sort the data and break codes faster than even the Wampyr's enhanced computing power.

"Captain, we are picking up Padmasan comm signals," the Tekken reported in a monotone, mechanistic voice.

"What?" Aihara asked, though the Tekken knew the response meant the captain had indeed heard the report. "They must not be using secure channels. Don't let on that we know yet."

"Wear a bullseye?!" Taisho was fuming. "Those..." he was interrupted.

"Sir, 'those' are coming our way," Captain Aihara reported. Taisho turned around and began walking towards them. "Sir, they don't know we've been listening to them."

He slowed a bit and thought about it. They may learn more about the Padmasans if they could eavesdrop. He let Aihara and the team catch up to him and they walked towards the Padmasans together.

*****

"You goddamn arrogant bastard!" Taisho said when they were within "earshot" of the Padmasans. Their helmets picked up sounds much farther away, and Taisho was sure the Padmasan armor could do the same, but he waited. "How dare you set viruses on our ship and set off all our goddamn collision sensors? Who do you think you are?!"

Valdemar stopped. He was at the threshold of the looking into the interior. His point men were already inside and the rest of his command waited. He looked over his shoulder at the Spartan Kommander, noted the rank shown on his shoulder and continued inside. “God,” he said to himself making sure not to broadcast it, it wouldn’t do for Typhus to hear Valdemar taking the name of the position he occupied in vain. He walked easily moving toward the security station. Behind him Draconians swarmed in moving in pairs to check each room, weapons at the ready.

The Bunker’s power was off but it didn’t matter, not to men in Ravager armour, the entire bunker appeared as though lit by the noon sun to Valdemar. The halls stank of death and decay, yet there wasn’t any of the blood, gore, and assorted hunks of meat in the hallway that had decorated the outside of the bunker. The remains of the men who had been inside during the slaughter had to be somewhere.

*********

Gunnlaug interposed himself between the Spartan general and his battle-brothers easily. He looked at the Spartan attempt at powered armour and shook his head. He hissed into the commbead to his brothers, “Take a look at their armour, I haven’t seen the like it Order lands since my last trip to the Monolithian armoury museum!” He switched to the loudspeakers built into his helmet with a thought and spoke to the Spartan party.

“I bid you greetings in the name of Warmaster Typhus, Kommander of Padmasan forces for the duration of this operation. I am Gunnlaug and have been appointed your liaison for the this op. If you wish anything relayed to the Kommander I will be happy to see that he receives your message,” He quickly switched to the comm band and added to his battle brothers, “because you yourself are so very unworthy of speaking with one such as him.”

The other Draconians snickered a bit until Typhus hissed his disapproval and they fell silent. Gunnlaug grinned to himself and stepped aside for the Spartan general to resume his march toward the bunker. All the Draconians had already entered and Valdemar was deep inside the base.

*********

Sigur stepped into the Bunker’s mess hall and stopped suddenly. His partner, Xanthos, grunted and nearly walked into his back.

“What’s up?” Xanthos asked unable to see past Sigur.

“If found our missing soldiers,” Sigur said and stepped inside. The room was coated with blood, it was indeed everywhere. But more horrifying were the bodies, some were thrown into the corners but several had been thrown onto the tables and were missing limbs and chunks of their anatomy. It looked like they had been eaten, indeed there were tooth marks in some. Most Sigur noted had tatters of Padmasan uniform on. But a few were dressed as Spartans. Including the man laying on the table directly in front of the door. He wore the uniform of a Spartan commander but great chunks of him were missing including his right leg and head. He had clearly been gnawed on.

“Xanthos, report to Typhus. He should get down here and get this cataloged,” Sigur began pacing about the room taking in the details of the feast that had taken place. “Hoy, in that report mention that I bet our body count is going to be lower than the number of men stationed here. I’ll bet whoever did this took some men with them for a snack on their way home.”

General Taisho stopped in his tracks. "Liason?" he asked.

"Yes sir," Guunlaug answered. "You just tell me what to do. I am under your orders."

"Well, you can start by taking off your helmet."

Guunlaug was confused, but he followed orders as all Padmasans were taught to do. Taisho saw the confused look on his face when the helmet was off, but it didn't last long. Taisho punched the man straight in the face, causing him to fall backwards. Luckily for him, he regained his balance before falling to the ground and completely losing face.

"That's the way my grandfather taught me to handle disrespect." Taisho turned towards the comm officer and nodded. "Patch me through."

"You're on, sir."

"Typhus, how dare you again! Sending me a liason? Who am I, a damn ambassador? You show yourself right now and you greet me like the allies we are!" He paused for a moment. "Oh, and we Spartans apparently don't need all the armor you do, you're probably too weak and scared to do anything without it."

*****

Two teams were just getting to the mess hall when the message went out. They knew the Padmasans would be there, so they stood up a little straighter and walked in like they owned the place. However, that changed when they saw the inside.

"Mother of Kannon," the lieutenant muttered. The other, less human elements of the teams simply looked around the room.

*****

The bridge crew of the Myoko thought the same thing. Admiral Heihachiro simply stared at the screen. "What kind of monster did this?" he asked to nobody.

*****

Meitou watched with Kentaka on their ship, far away from the planet. All those potential genetics projects wasted, he thought.

So, he doesn’t like armour and assaults my troops does he. Typhus looked down at the screens and with a silent command switched to secure lines, moreover he sent out a coded order to revert to Draconic, the Cult’s secret language for all messages. This had gone on long enough really, it was time to get down to that planet and meet the Spartans.

Typhus rose, and with an absent thought dissipated his armour. He ran a hand through his white hair and began walking. His honour guard was already waiting outside, they had been listening just as much as he had. “Black, tell those damned fools to activate that Quantum Transponder and pull us down in ten.” Typhus marched back to his rooms and got ready quickly.

Standing before the mirror he changed his appearance, both eyes blazed with green hellfire, and his fangs took on just a bit more menace. He sighed and looked at his talons once again, he would have to be careful, those Spartans we unlikely to take the loss of a general well. Finally he donned a black hooded cloak, the fact that the colour perfectly matched his skin was odd but it didn’t matter in the end, he pulled the hood up and began walking out, dressed more as if he were going to a royal reception than to a potential warzone.

*********

On planet, Valdemar glanced around the security room with an angry hiss. Arrogant fool, should have known when to let something drop. “Pack one,” he ordered over the now secure comms, “begin collecting Padmasan bodies. They will receive a proper funeral pyre. Pack three, haul out our engineering gear as soon as the holorecording is done I want this place brought back up the combat readiness. Pack two, continue your sweep and redouble your efforts, I want to be sure nothing is in here that we don’t know about. And keep and eye on those Spartan bastards, if one of them is out of our sight for even a minute someone is getting my foot up his ass!” He turned to the two acting techs, “What are you doing?”

“What Typhus desires,” one replied easily and continued setting up a large computer terminal.

“Very good,” Valdemar began walking toward the entrance. That Spartan had a lot to say about Padmasans, perhaps he should be shown why the Cult was so feared.

*********

“Black, tell our men groundside to activate the Devourer Beacon,” Typhus hissed just before he was pulled through space to the planet. The rest of his Honour Guard would follow in quick succession. He arrived in the security room with only two of his men in it, Valdemar should have been awaiting him.

“Where the hell is Valdemar?” He asked.

“Off to meet our Spartan friends, Lord,” came the reply.

*********

General Taisho smirked as the Draconian reattached his helmet and shook he head. He expected Typhus would come running out and hit him, then it would be a simple matter to get the fool up on charges. He was pondering what the man would look like as he was punished when there was a groan from his right. He looked over at the Tekken as both collapsed, completely shut down. He glanced at the wampyr, “Report.”

“All of the Tekken have spontaneously shut down, cause unknown.”

Harsh laughter rang out from across the way as Typhus (Valdemar actually) walked out of the bunker. His cloak swirling about him and the grinning daemonic face on his helmet seeming all too real. “What’s wrong, can’t keep your men in line?” The Draconian boomed, the loudspeakers built into its helmet ensuring that everyone heard, not that any of the Draconians wouldn’t have heard.

“What the hell did you do, Typhus?” Taisho shouted reaching for his side arm only to stop short as the Draconian pointed an assault rifle toward his direction, it held the weapon at the hip almost casually but it was anything but casual. The Wampyr drew its rifle only to have Gunnlaug point his own gun at it.

“You might want to move your hand away from that gun,” Typhus/Valdemar said.

“You son of a bitch I’ll have you up on so many charges it’ll make your head spin!” Taisho shouted, but he did let go of his pistol. The two Draconians and wampyr dropped the aim on their assault rifles, pointing them at the ground.

“Oh really? I don’t think so. However, since you seem all fired eager to assault my troops I can think of something you can attempt to do to me,” Typhus/Valdemar drew his sword with his off hand and swung it through the air casually.

“Put that away.” Boomed a deeper voice that set everyone on edge, for you could hear in the back of that voice screams of pain and fear. The Draconain obeyed quickly to Taisho’s confusion. He quickly stepped aside for another man who was walking out of the Bunker. Taisho felt his jaw drop in shock as he took a good look at the man. He wore regal finery that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Lord Kentaka except it was all black and silver. He had a short beard that was well trimmed yet was completely white. The man stepped out into the light and a cloud passed over the sun throwing the world into shade.

Valdemar moved aside and joined a file of Draconians that stood behind the man, who was actually as big as any of them yet completely unarmoured. His eyes blazed with neon-green balefire and he casually pushed back the cloak’s hood with one taloned hand, his skin was completely black! He had a sharp, narrow face and a grin that would have fit a shark. Both eyes blazed with fire that lit the area around him disturbingly.
“You have a lot to say about armour, Spartan, but I still see you wearing it,” the man observed casually. He walked forward and spoke with that horrifying voice that made Taisho think of Typhus’ voice only different. “And you seem to think that one such as I is weak or scared, I assure you that that is a mistake on your part.”

“Yo-You’re Typhus?” Taisho asked.

“Of course! There was a doubt in your mind of that fact? The man you have been dealing with was one of my honour guard. Oh, and yes I do consider you an ambassador for like one of their kind you represent your nation to me, and I have a lot more importance than you would think, boy,” Typhus walked over to the wampyr who took an involuntary step back. He looked it over for a minute the fire seeming to fade a little those blazing eyes. “So this is a wampyr. To my shame I was not yet born when they rebelled in Padmasa and were exterminated. I wonder if you will have better luck controlling them Spartan. For I assure you, you won’t always pick the right men and when they find out about the blood in their veins and what it does to a normal human… Well, we’ll see how long you keep them around.”

Typhus rose once again to his full height and looked down at Taisho, his eyes blazing up once again. “There is just one last thing Spartan. While Gunnlaug is under your orders you may strike him, but the Cult is still mine.” Typhus lashed out with one fist, striking Taisho in the chest and sending him sprawling backward, his chestplate covered in cracks, several shards of it actually broke off! Typhus nodded in satisfaction and walked over to the fallen General. He offered one taloned hand to the man.

The screens on the bridge of the Myoko blacked out when the Tekken went offline. Admiral Heihachiro ordered one of the men to establish the "look down" view, and close in on the general as well as they could. They still had the audio feed, and the bridge crew sat silently and listened to what was going on.

It took no longer than half a minute to get Taisho's position and zoom in to the maximum magnification. The screen brightened as the image from the planet came up. They were looking below from about fifty feet, and as soon as they found Taisho, he was speeding backwards towards the right side of the screen.

There was no real way of reading Typhus' height, but they all assumed that he was taller than Taisho. They watched as their general's chest plate shattered when he hit the ground. They heard it all too-- the sounds of heavy armor breaking, and the loud thud when Taisho hit the ground. As Typhus walked over to Taisho, Admiral Heihachiro was certain Typhus would kill the Spartan general. He opened his mouth and prepared to give orders for a full assault... but he was surprised.

*****

However, nobody was more surprised than Taisho himself. After feeling the impact-- feeling, not just reading his armor sensor logs-- he found himself lying on the ground a few feet away from where he began. I've heard of "An eye for an eye" before, he thought, but this was a tooth for an entire mouth!

He took Typhus' hand and stood up, trying desperately to look unaffected by the truck that just ran him over. He suceeded somewhat, and made the incident to seem like no big deal. "I never liked the way that chest plate fit, anyway," he said, hoping that the monster standing in front of him had a sense of humor. He had regained his arrogance once he realized he wouldn't be killed.

"So you're the real Typhus this time, right? No more guys that are going to fall from the sky claiming they're you?"

Typhus said nothing, but the green fire in his eyes raged for a few seconds.

"Seriously though, now that we've met and been introduced and everything, why don't we get to the bottom of this? We've got a lot of dead men here, and something horrific killed them. Something savage and probably without emotion. And we've got to get some information on them." He paused. Typhus said nothing.

"So, ally, let's get to work. I'm sure the Masters won't be happy if you come back from here with only a report of a fistfight."

“The happiness of the masters matters not in this matter, Spartan. They are satisfied that I am here and keeping everything under control. Moreover, if you wish to describe the attackers use terms that don’t describe my men and any of the few actual men among your forces,” Typhus hissed and then gestured off to his right extravagantly. Typhus’ honour guard immediately moved off and began cracking open crates full of equipment.

“My men will begin a sweep of the distant area to try and find traces left by enemy movement, and we have already sent back holos of the entire outside area within a hundred meters. Any changes to the area will be noted and sent back from our central records and AI analysis. You and your … tekken … may begin seeing to the corpses. My third pack has begun gathering material for a funeral pyr. I suggest you either make use of this pyr or get them into stasis immediately. I will not have the remains kept in my bunker,” Typhus turned and began walking back to the bunker. Then stopped and called over his shoulder, “This bunker has been swept top to bottom and is secure. I suggest that you keep your men inside tonight… out in that darkness I won’t be around to protect them.” With that Typhus stomped off into the bunker, while a flurry of activity started. Draconians flying in and out of the bunker bringing it back to combat readiness with new equipment borrowed from Cult Storage.

*********

Typhus walked into the bunker with an arrogant smirk on his face. Things were proceeding well… The Spartans wouldn’t notice that their tekken were completely blind to the members of his honour guard until long after his men had smuggled out Paratransponders to Wolfstar, and with him here to co-ordinate and watch all of the Spartans he could be sure none of them would catch on and go out looking. He headed down to the mess hall, passing by the holo-recorders as they examined everything as well as a few of the few Spartans that had joined his men in sweeping the bunker, no few of whom were gagging at the smell.

With a second’s thought Typhus was once again clad in his suit of modified Ravager Armour. He headed down into the fortress to see the carnage his students had inflicted.

Finally, I had the time to sit down and write something. Since you weren't online today, here's what I wrote to wrap things up:



The night passed without any further confrontations-- Padmasan or otherwise. General Taisho didn't sleep much, though, instead choosing to think over his day. He'd gone from the top military commander in the sector to a regular old officer just following the Padmasans around. He secretly hoped that one day the Padmasans would learn what a good officer corps could do for them, even if it meant a devastating loss for them.

Taisho knew Lord Meitou wouldn't be happy with him either. Meitou festered a deep contempt for the Padmasans, but nobody was quite sure why. It was probably because they were always playing tricks and undermining the Spartan military, but it could also be that Meitou simply didn't trust them. Lord Kentaka, on the other hand, was much more understanding of the Padmasans. For some insane reason, Taisho thought. He understood the traditions and long-standing alliance, but the Padmasans were changing in his eyes. He'd had enough of the Padmasans that he was ready to request a position at a training post on New Sparta, far away from anything that had glowing green eyes.

*****

The next morning, things moved quickly. The Myoko was due to leave orbit later in the day, called to another meeting with Kentaka. The ship's orders were to transport the bodies-- remains was more like it-- to a cargo ship, where they would be delivered to the families and given military funerals.

Taisho was ready to leave this forsaken outpost for good. He walked out of the bunker and found the Padmasans packing their things up as well. Apparently they had finished their mission too, and had no reason to stick around. A base in the middle of the desert on a remote planet where mysterious beasts roamed wasn't exactly an inviting place.

The last of the transports landed and was soon ready to leave again. General Taisho walked around the Padmasans, looking for a senior officer to finalize things. He found none of the important people, and the other Padmasans didn't seem interested in his search.

What a fitting end to this, he thought, walking back to the shuttle. He boarded it and sat in the back, looking at the camp that was rapidly getting smaller. We came to solve one mystery, and I ran into three more. The Tekken had proved worthless when put to the test, and the Wampyr performance was dismal at best. Although they were effective against primative species on foreign planets, both corps needed a lot more work before they would face the Padmasans again.

Taisho sat quietly as the shuttle docked with the Myoko. As soon as the shuttle was secure, the ship cloaked and left orbit in no position better than when it had arrived.

Typhus arose well before dawn. In truth he didn’t sleep, nor did many of his men, but for 5-6 hours men had free time on the typical Draconian mission schedule each day. Kept morale up and kept the men sane if they were allowed rest, although he had stayed active for a record 500 hours straight during a particular mission. He moved quickly and silently, his elite guard doing likewise. Each man of his guard quickly departed the base with nothing but a rustle of cloth from their cloaks. Typhus himself didn’t lead them, instead he moved about the base checking in with his men in small groups, conveying orders with a few hand motions as he arrived, not trusting vocal signals at all.

Only when everyone knew his orders did he slip off into the darkness, it was still hours before dark. He moved quickly and quietly, joining his guard after a few moments lope and then taking flight at only a few meters above the ground. They had a lot of distance to cover in a short amount of time.

Back at the base his men were ready as soon as the Spartans awoke. They joined their allies for breakfast outside the bunker, no one wanted to eat in the cursed refectory… or at least no one that the Draconians were interested in. They sat and ate sharing comments with their allies and laying down a few hints to those few wampyrs that joined in the meal, although the Draconians at least knew that they only ate for the taste. A few choice comments should have gotten the wampyrs thinking about their blood… it didn’t matter though, the Draconians broached a great keg and welcomed in the day with flagons raised in salute. The mission was done, successful no less!

Soon enough they began packing things up. Only a few crates had been real, the rest were just heavy pieces of metal to make a show of arriving in force to help. Dropships arrived and they began packing while the Spartans did likewise. While not far off, watching from cover of a camo field Typhus watched.

“Excellent work, excellent work! They leave, unknowing what was out there in the night watching or even what happened.”

“Very good, master,” his companion hissed.

Typhus looked over and up at Wolfstar who was grinning and gnawing on a hunk of flesh. In that brief moment Typhus knew what would become of Wolfstar’s legion, how they would replace the Death Korps and the people of Padmasa would fear a howl in the night rather than the complete silence of Death. He nodded and reviewed his handiwork once more. “You know all you need to, the rest you can find for yourself. I have much to prepare and little time. The Masters will not wait for anything in this.”

“Aye, Master. It is best we left soon,” Wolfstar growled and finished his breakfast.

Typhus nodded to himself, secure in his knowledge that Padmasa would be safe for a time even without it’s greatest protectors.

***

Hours later when the Spartans had finally departed a final Padmasan dropship left the surface of the world. Three great warships uncloaked one a Golden hulled behemoth holding more than just a crew of warriors. The dropship found its way onto this ship and they all once again cloaked and departed.