Corsair 2: Syndicate War (finished)

[Vortigar]

Note: you needn't have read part one to understand this one!

And this is not a fanfic based on the syndicate wars games...

Well, here it is then... the highly anticipated sequel to the Corsair Syndicate... the second story to revolve on my Earth-like little planet called Felius. At least, its anticipated by Android21... (taking 6 fic of the week awards and 4 fic of the month awards, did I count right A21?)

Along the course of this story I'll be shedding light on a lot of the unresolved mysteries of part one as well as patching up some some stuff that could be seen as holes in the plot but are actually not. Ok so I invented a rationale for some of the weird happenings of the first installment after it ended... details... a few quirks add to the charm, ne?

Let's get the prologue up eh?
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Prologue

The air welcomed him with open arms. He smiled. The office building came fleeting past. At the first window his speed wasn’t high enough yet. He peered inward and saw people spin around on their chairs, looking back at him in surprise. He always liked seeing the faces of those ‘inferior’ people. He envied them so.
“Ignorance is bliss.” The words came rolling from his lips, flying upward, away from his ears as he plumetted downward. It was time to stop. He knew. Maybe he shouldn’t. Just end it all. Let the world be free of him. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t work anyway. With a shock he halted his descent. His phone was ringing. He pulled it out and flipped it open.
“Raven.”
The other side of the line didn’t answer immeadietly. They had noticed Raven’s heavy breathing. The exhileration in his voice. They feared him in such moments.
“We are under attack sir.”
“Where are you, damnit!” Raven hated men who cracked under pressure. The entire world was bearing down on him and he had never lost his cool. But then again they weren’t at all like him. He always called humans ‘inferior’, even while he was one of them. Worse, he was responsible for them. That was at least how he saw it. He didn’t consider himself one of them. He stood above it all, a father figure, shrouded in shadows.
“Fifth precinct. Town hall… sir”
“Okay.” Raven closed the line and put his phone back into his coat pocket. He looked around. A number of people were staring at him from out of the office building, eyes as large as teacups. His smile faded and he let himself drop to the ground. Play-time was over.

A person crashed to the ground right in front of him. He grabbed the hilt of his weapon under his coat. It wasn’t necessary.
“Raven?”
Raven looked up at the Reaper. The black man in his dark suit was all but invisible in the unlit street.
“We need to gather. In the last few hours many of our strongpoints have fallen. The syndicate won’t last much longer.” Reaper looked his friend in the eyes. They were stone-cold, as always. Raven’s black hair always struck him as a kind of treachery. White people should be light, Black people dark, Raven was cheating. Reaper shook the thoughts from his mind. He’d been awake too long. Imagining things, losing focus.
“How can we be losing now that Deadman is dead?”
“I don’t think Deadman would let his own death stop his plans. He was ready to die from square one. If his name alone isn’t enough of a hint, I wouldn’t know what is.” Raven was getting agitated. Reaper was one of them, a Keeper, he should’ve understood without asking such questions.
“Where do we start?” Finally a worthwhile response Raven thought.
“You get Wolf, I’ll break in the new ones.”
Raven ran off, leaving Reaper standing in the middle of the street with mixed feelings. Why did he ask for Wolf first? If Reaper’d been in Raven’s place he’d call for his main adversary last. Maybe its got something to do with goodwill or respect. Reaper shrugged and stepped into his car. Time would tell. It always did. Eventually…


Harlequin awoke in a hotel. She bolted upright. She couldn’t remember how she had got there. The last thing she could remember was disarming Deadman and strangling him. She could still feel his body go limp in her hands. The feeling was most satisfying. The fight had lasted for quite some time, she was exhausted. ‘That’s why I lost some of my memory.’ She thought. She let herself drop onto the bed. She wouldn’t be much use in the syndicate war over Corsair in her current state. She decided to have some rest before contacting Raven. He’d understand. She’d completed her mission succesfully, a mission that no one had dared undertake. If he was going to complain about it, he’d be just as dead as Deadman. She owed a lot to Raven but he wasn’t her master. No one was. She sighed and wondered if Cat and Rat had survived the ordeal. There was simply no chance they had. Even if they had survived the conflicts with the Headhunter, Ast and Felt they’d still be killed by Raven himself. Their use would end after the death of Ast and Felt. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
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[Vortigar]

To make this a little easier I'll slam this little listy-thing up, these are the names that've shown up last time. Some of the characters never actually showed up, but the names have... Some of the details noted were unknown before but will be lit up along the way.

Names:
Rat/Jeremiah Stalker/Michael Listener ? Ex-thief, was lying on the floor in the Shell last we heard
Gorgon/Alyssa Caress/Aﳨa Fields ? Ex-spy, was lying on the floor in the Shell last we heard
Banshee/Angel Cartagna/Melissa Harlequin ? Keeper, ex-assassin
Derran Raven - Self appointed leader of the Shell keepers, ex-businessman
Xanstin Silencer - Keeper, infiltrator
Nathaniel Reaper - Keeper, Master of the mercenary guilds
Castor Wolf - Keeper, diplomat
Verian Lunatic - Keeper, brother of Banshee, insane
Herak Wrathbringer - Keeper, technician, ex-hunter
Callus Deadman - Keeper, ex-master of the Corsair Syndicate, fell in a fight with Banshee
Terak Rask - Deadman?s right hand man, fell in a fight with Cat & Gorgon
Ast Maskbearer - Keeper, fell in a fight with Cat, Rat and Gorgon
Felt Tormentor - Keeper, fell in a fight with Cat, Rat and Gorgon
Cat/Trevor Downs 2nd - Fell in a fight against Felt & Ast, friend of Rat and Gorgon, ex-mercenary
Elijah Delver - Failed Keeper recruit, fell at the hand of Felt

Those who did read the first story have had a little teaser of what is going to happen, whether it is an advantage or not I'm not sure though. Fact is that the second part of the epilogue hasn't occured yet...

Lets hope I can keep this one interesting...

[Kabobward]

I'll check this out after reading the first one. You may have said you didn't need to read the first to understand, but it seems like a good idea.

[Android21]

My memory is a little fuzzy of the first fic, think I'll read over the last quarter, cos all those keepers are slightly jumbled up in my mind (should have done that beforehand *bops self*)

I liked the explanation of Deadman's name being a hint. Did you have that planned out from the start :o

Rat is still alive, I hope! And Gorgan! (And Cat pleaaase :wink: )

[WildStar]

I cant remember half of the first fic. But I'll stay on top of this one. I remember liking several charcters you offed all quicklike. lol I wont make that mistake again. :p

[Vortigar]

It seems there's a tiny little select audience that I attract and no one else really dares to hop in... Ah well, its good to have you guys!

Wildy: Offing characters quickly? Corsair never had a lot of characters in the first place... And all deaths of any real characters are at the end (except for Guard).

A21: Deadman's death was set from the start. But I hadn't really thought anything out when I wrote up the names and the profiles of the different Keepers.

Bobby: Well, yeah, maybe it IS a good idea.
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Chapter one

“Gorgon?” I grab her by the shoulders and shake her from side to side. Hoping it will bring her back to her senses. I’m not going to lose Cat and her on the same day.
“Gorgon!” I feel myself slipping away. Some sort of gas is being pumped into the room. I’m not fully aware where I am anyhow, but I need Gorgon to get out of here.
“This can’t be ha…” I collapse to the ground, unable to finish the sentence.

“A good morning Mr. Stalker.” I come to my senses on a cold table. The thing doesn’t feel at all discomfortable somehow. The bright light of the lamp above me forces me to close my eyes again. It is simply too bright. ‘Some kind of medical facility’ I agree with myself.
“My name is Rat.” I finally manage to reply
“Not anymore, Jeremiah Stalker. Every one of your previous names is too conspicuous. Both your physique and identity have been changed to suit your new role.” The voice is familiar somehow. How long have I been lying here already. I feel dizzy. Ready to fall asleep again. But I can’t afford myself the luxury.
“What new role?”
“You and your friend have been recruited into our organisation. Believe me, not all of us are alike to the ones you’ve met before.”
“Where am I?” I know the organisation he’s talking about. Or at least I guess I do.
“Now, now. Only one question at a time. You are needed, and where you’re needed you’ll need all your strength and wits to succeed. Please rest and we’ll discuss the rest some other time. You have no need to worry.” Somehow I feel assured with his new name, I was going to survive yet. An operative of the Eleven. Trying to keep the Shell a secret to the rest of the world and steering humanity towards a good future. The loss of Cat, my most trusted friend, seems to be far away, ancient history. The world moves on and so should I. A quick glance to my right reveals that Gorgon is lying on a table next to me. Alyssa Caress. Now how did I come up with that name all of a sudden. I roll my head to see where the man who’d been talking to me was going. I see him open a door and leave the room. His hair’s black as a raven.


Planetary Command had ceased talks halfway during the discussion on large land owners. It was 13:00, time for the afternoon break. The members of the different councils were making their way out of the huge hall. The place could seat over twenty thousand people but it was never filled to capacity, far from it actually. PC was made up of about a hundred men and women, representing different factions within one or another of any of the twelve countries. Some factions sent envoys, others only single men or women. This time the different legal offices were heavily represented. PC was made up of all the huge organisations of the world, most of them based around companies. The world was literaly ruled by money, and PC was the central organ that controlled the flow of it, thus it controlled the world. The people in it didn’t realise the system had been worked out and built by just a few people. A few people with a lot of power. They called themselves Keepers, but nobody knew anyway, except for one.

Carlton Assel was pacing through the throng against the stream. He was trying to get to the head representative of the Kalian legal company. He was desperately trying to push himself forward. Until his cellphone rang. He pulled it out and sat down on the closest bench he could find. He looked at the number on his phone and cursed inside himself.
“Wolf here.” Assel said as he answered the call, his voice wasn’t kind.
“I’m sorry but the usual routes take too long to walk. The meeting ended a minute ago didn’t it?”
“I don’t give a damn Reaper. I don’t want to be exposed here.”
“Well, as I sai…”
“Cut it. What’s the problem? There’s got to be something mighty big going on for you to call upon me directly.”
“Yes. Corsair has fallen. We’ve lost many members and candidates over the last week. Raven…”
“Raven again eh? The guy’s more of a menace than the ones we’re trying to eradicate from this civilization. I’ll meet you at the Shell as soon as possible.”
“Okay.”
Assel hung up. His face resembled a storm cloud.
At the other end of the Line Reaper knew that ‘as soon as possible’ meant half a day. He knew the definition of the words as agreed upon among the Keepers. Still, hearing it used was another thing entirely. Especially when the phrase came from Wolf’s mouth.

Sergeant Cholin of the Black Wing had been over-hearing the little conversation. Not entirely sure what to make of it he packed up his notes and recording device and made his way out of the hall. The rest of the Black Wing would love to hear about this. He’d been tracking this man who was also known as ‘Wolf’ for some time. Now that another name had popped up he had a lead. The names ‘Reaper’ and ‘Raven’ would probably be known at the intelligence department. This little nugget could help shed a different light on the whole Corsair affair going on right now. Cholin opened the door and let Assel go through before he followed himself. He smiled as he filed in line behind Carlton ‘Wolf’ Assel.


Time was quickly drawing to a close for many men and women out on the streets. Corsair was burning and in its fires it consumed the lives of many, people who did or did not want to be there in the first place. Through this madness a few level headed men were trying to keep on top of things. The problem was that these people were not the actual commanders of the different units. The only one’s with any oversight were spies and intelligence officers, people who didn’t want to get involved in the fighting at all. Knowledge never rests with those who need it.

Bullets sliced through the air around the corner. With the death of Terak Rask the Corsair Syndicate’s forces were left without direct leadership in the middle of a war. Just like those of the other syndicates who had been pressed into the fray without intelligence or preparation. One of their number was hiding in an alleyway. Away from the eyes of the rest of the world. Hopefully. Outside his little hideout men and women from all levels of society fought each other to the death. The only thing that linked these fighters was the word syndicate. All of them were somehow members of one syndicate or other. All of the syndicates had been informed of the fall of the greatest one of them. Most hadn’t believed the rumours that Corsair was about to go down in flames but the Grandfathers, leaders of the syndicates, had all been approached personally by a man who carried persuasive evidence. Callus Deadman had prepared this war long in advance and now he was dead. Rask had been Deadman’s right hand man all along, together they controlled Corsair. And through it they controlled the most powerful fighting force on the planet. It had been astonishing that he had all thrown it away. It had to be part of some greater plan. But now that the news of his death was racing all over the planet everyone was sure they were never going to see his great plan. The most accepted theory was that Deadman had wanted to get out of the syndicates. He would obviously never be able to do so now. On the other hand, he had already achieved his aim in a way then.

The man in hiding wondered why the death of so many people was necessary. Of course he knew full well why this was happening. With the news of Deadman’s death, combined with the factual fall of Corsair, the other syndicate leaders had decided to bite into the soon to be dead prey. Corsair would be divided up into areas controlled by whomever happened to be around at the right moment. The problem was however that everyone seemed to be in the same place right now. Ninety percent of all the trained fighters of the syndicates were currently at war inside Corsair territory. The man looked at his rifle. Why on earth had he joined the Felian Dynasty Syndicate? He had been torn from the gutter by a Dynasty taskmaster. Without his knowledge he had been slowly drawn into the syndicate. Right now his loyalty lay so firmly with the Dynasty he never really asked himself that question. Until now. The cold blade of death was closing on his neck. He knew it. He saw it. A lean man came darting past, hiding the blade he had just used under his coat.
“What have you done Deadman?” He asked in a whisper.
“This is all unnecessary.” He propped the dead body of the man up against the wall to make sure his friends that were obviously in the area wouldn’t take too much notice.
“This is far too messy for my taste. I’m going back under.” His dead conversation partner slowly slipped down to the ground past the wall after his killer left. On the wall behind the body the slick trail of thick blood slowly drooped down. The killer was gone. The body would not be found for another four days. Nobody would care. Not even the men of the law. But they did. Sergeant Tset backed away from the window from which he’d been observing the scene. He wondered who had so suddenly appeared out of nowhere and killed the one man he had been able to contact inside the Dynasty syndicate. Tset didn’t want to lose his one contact that wasn’t a Corsair member but it didn’t really matter anymore. If he would be able to track down this new guy, he’d probably stumble into something bigger. This killer had been a professional, possibly a mercenary even. Mercenaries aren’t hired to fight wars, not guys of this calibre. Tset left the room, he would stick on this guy’s tail like glue.


The Black Wing of the law was pulling out. They were a network of infiltrators trying to lure out parts of the syndicates in order to take them down wholesale. Great numbers of them had already severed all their ties with the various organisations they were digging into. One of them looked up at the sign above the entrance of one of their safe houses. ‘Jack’s chicken burgers’ The fact that this place hadn’t been found out years ago astonished him. Shaking his head he entered the building and threw his coat on top of the huge pile of others. Underneath his grey coat he wore his official uniform, fully black with a name tag, Lt. Shill it read.
“So the rumours were true. Who would have guessed it.” Officer Artan said as he walked up to Shill.
“I don’t like it. Its too big, too chaotic. Deadman was a well known figure with a lot of power. Even if he wanted out he wouldn’t pull a stunt like this. There’s something wrong in this picture.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much Lieutenant. I’m just glad Deadman is dead.” Artan snivveled as the words came out of his mouth “Deadman… Dead… get it?”
“Yes I get it.” Shill answered sourly. “Has it been confirmed then? Do we have Deadman’s body?”
Artan shrugged.
“Callian from communications said we do. We can at least celebrate that.”
“Celebrate? Are you nuts? Hundreds are dying out there, the world will be pulled into global war if this situation is enflamed any more. The only man who could stop it all from happening, Deadman, is dead. We’ve lost hundreds of operatives, not to mention the years of work that went into their placement.” Shill stopped and looked at Artan. “No, I don’t think we’ve got anything to celebrate. We’ve just lost massive amounts of resources. On the other hand we’ve just gained a lot of perfect opportunities to gain insights in the workings of the syndicates. We neither have cause nor time to celebrate. Time is too short. Get the section leaders together, this place needs to get its act together.”
“But Sergeant Tset is missing sir. He didn’t want to pull out. He says he found something that could lead to bigger affairs.”
“And on what does he base this assumption?”
“A gut feeling sir.”
“Damn him and his gut feelings!” Shill had never liked Tset much. He still had to respect the man’s expertise though, but that didn’t excuse the fact that he’d gone against a direct order. The order to pull back had come from the higher offices. Offices represented within PC itself. Tset’d be hearing more of this. This time even if he would come out with useful results there’d be no mercy. Tset would be stripped of rank and kicked out of the Black Wing. Shill would see to that personally.
“What’s this?” Shill asked as Artan pushed a piece of paper into his hands.
“A communique I think you’ll find to be interesting, sir.”
“hhmmm?” Shill hummed as he folded the paper open. It was a message from Cholin. One of the few who’d been excused from the general pull-back order. A man so internally linked into a number of different number of organisations that his pull-back would definately draw attention. Cholin was a communications runner, the most dangerous type of infiltration. He was supposed to keep in physical contact with multiple operatives at a time while keeping himself out of sight. Only people with truly indistinguishable facial features could be accepted for this work. It was highly awarded though. Communications runners who survived duty for five years would be paid for and looked after for the rest of their lives, unless their lifestyle became too exuberant of course.


“You’re alive?” It was all the guard could utter before his head was crushed by a shimmer in the air. The man who’d been asked the question stuck his metal guantlet back into his pocket. He was wearing a grey coat and a matching hat. Only those that had seen him on a daily basis would recognise him. His face was a mutilated version of its previous incarnation. One had to make compromises when one died. And so had he. He carried the dead body of the man he respected most into the building. A simple house in the suburbs of a border town. Nothing special at first glance, if one disregarded the corpse of the guard in civilian clothing at least. Beneath the house itself lay a basement ten times the building’s size. The man laid down the body in the elevator that was secluded under the particularly badly maintained stairs. There were no outward indicators that this simple broomcloset was actually an elevator. There weren’t even controls, hidden or otherwise. The thing was controlled by an undergound system of a technical ingenuity that was unknown to the rest of the world. Not the most advanced that the man had ever seen or had, but still far better than anything that had ever been invented by the people of this planet. By tapping a few keys on his watch the man sent the elevator five floors down. The systems down there would take care of the rest.

The man walked away from the stairs and sat himself down on the lazy chair that commanded the living room. There were still a lot of things to do but first he had to recover from the recent events. Things hadn’t gone exactly as he had wanted but he still had access to the resources he needed. His plans were not idled yet, he would persevere, as he always had. It would take ages to let his plans come to fruitition and now he had found a way to have that time.
“I’ll get even yet Raven…” He uttered with a weak and shred voice.
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And yes, the chapters are long... longer than any so far... I'm not planning on posting very fast though... Maybe I'll split them into two...

[WildStar]

Dont worry about the chapters being as long as they are. I think its a breath of fresh air to be frank. Its like reading a book. :p

Im kind of rusty of Corsair but so when I was reading it I got lost and recovered again towards the end. With new characters and an ever changing story it works for almost all of us regardless.

The man who survived couldnt have been Deadman could it?

[Vortigar]

Wildy: "The man who survived couldnt have been Deadman could it?" Thank you for replying with a question that kind of explained the whole point of that last paragraph. About getting lost: The main story will be focussing on the events around only a couple of people. The chaos in the first two chapters and the prologue are just there to get the situation across. You do understand the general situation at the moment don't you? The fact that you can't really pinpoint the characters yet is actually of lesser concern, we'll get to that.

ok if you were concerned about being confused who the different Keepers were... prepare for a little remembrance. If this chapter doesn't confuse you by the sheer amount of characters that gets introduced the rest of the story will be easy faring... believe me, it isn't all that bad.

I'll start naming my chapters again from here on in. This to keep a bit of a target going. The fact that I'm going to be describing multiple main characters will make this naming bit a tad hard, but I'll manage, I always have... I hope -_-' (note: the changing between past tense and present tense is intentional, there's a reason for that, we'll get there...)

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Chapter two

A massive headache drills itself into my brain. My vision, the little bit I had anyway, swirls and turns black. I lose the last bit of feeling in my already numb limbs. What the heck is going on here?


The cold light sprang to life inside the Shell’s main entrance hall. In a blink a group of four men materialized on the main dais in the middle of the room. All of them stepped from the dais and took up their designated positions. Long ago they had been designated as protectors of a certain area. Not actual areas of land but rather areas of expertise or levels of society. They were four of the most powerful people in the world. It had been seven hundred years since they had been last called together. This was not an occasion to be frowned upon. A door opened. Five heads turned towards the entrant. Raven stepped into the room, targeted by the sights of four men, one of which resented him to no end. Without a word Raven stepped towards his designated position. Even when he settled his feet on the floor no one opened his mouth. They were all early. None would speak until the designated time.

One of the men had his eyes closed. His slow breathing denoted he was truly ay ease. He was known as the Herak Wrathbringer, a man of cold emotionless precision. If there was one among them with patience it was him. In contrast to the Wrathbringer were the darting eyes of Verian Lunatic. The Lunatic was a bit of an outcast, even among this group of outcasts. His insane way of life and, through that, unique vision on the world allowed him to look at every issue from a truly objective angle. His mind constantly shifted position as he battled with himself for a decision, a decision he knew would never come. He had never made a true decision in his entire life. He couldn’t. Somehow he had pulled through and now was protected by the power of the Keepers. They kept him alive. At first it had been necessary but nowadays the occaisional visits of the Keepers had become nothing more than another ritual in the endless stream of rituals the Keepers had.

Reaper looked around the room as he sorted out his thoughts. Rat and Gorgon were not here, Raven had kept them back. They were not yet ready probably. Reaper’s eyes slid from Raven towards Wolf. The two of them were natural enemies. Wolf was the outside face and saw the Keepers as a group of secret dignitaries meant to aid the ‘true’ government. Raven held less moral views, the Keepers were a group with a goal and to achieve their ends the Keepers were allowed to do anything. Reaper himself felt a bit like a messenger between the two. He was the only one among them that had full confidence of both of them, a dubious position at best.

Another person materialized in the middle of the room. She was currently the only female member of this select group of people. Gorgon hadn’t yet become an official member. Lunatic sprang up onto the dais and grabbed his sister in a firm embrace. He almost started to cry as Melissa Harlequin gently slid her hand through his long hair. Reaper smiled, he liked Lunatic, he was a fresh breath of air among them. Reaper had been around since way before Lunatic had joined. He barely remembered those days, the insane guy seemed to make the world more vibrant. As if his mere presence comforted him. Harlequin slowly broke away from Lunatic and urged him back to his place. It had taken a long time to make either of them understand the rituals and rules of the Keepers. Lunatic’s insanity was an obvious reason to justify the extra training but in Harlequin’s case it was different.

She was a pure killer. The thirst for blood and battle was bred into her bones. She and her brother had lived together for quite some time. Sometimes Lunatic’s behavious echoed back to his childhood, to before he was separated from his sister. In those moments Verian Lunatic became by far the most lethal of all of them. Combined with unique equipment and special training Lunatic had sometimes been used to eliminate entire organisations. But only if the destruction of the organisation weighed up against the high risk of exposure such hack and slash attacks entailed. Harlequin herself was more suited to subtle hit and run jobs. Trained in an array of precise martial arts she could kill anyone that moved to close if she wished to do so. The rest of the Keepers feared this quality in her, but knew she would never take them down. Somehwere the doubt always remained though.

‘So this is all that remained?’ Wolf asked, opening the conversation exactly at the agreed point in time. His voice was filled with anger, annoyance and, above all, dissapointment. He saw himself as the father of this group somehow. He was the oldest among them, but with ages ranging over a thousand years that didn’t count for much.
‘Silencer isn’t here yet.’ Wrathbringer noted calmly. Wolf’s angry eyes softened a little as he heared Herak speak. Without this calming voice the Keepers would have fallen apart long ago.
‘And there are two new recruits in training.’ Raven added. Immeadietly drawing an angry glance from Wolf.
‘That makes our total number eight, two rookies included.’ Wolf concluded. ‘I can’t say I’m glad to hear we’ve lost four of our number. The fact that the two recruits survived doesn’t make it much better.’
‘Actually the two recruits you are referring to are dead. The two Raven’s talking about are two other recruits, they are fully ready for integration into the ranks right now.’ Reaper tossed into the conversation. ‘Terak Rask and Elijah Delver wanted more than they could get in a shorter amount of time than they had. The two of them were killed in combat by the two new recruits and one other, who also fell.’
Wolf looked around the room. Speechless.

‘Ast, Felt, Callus, Terak and Elijah are dead.’ Wrathbringer noted thoughtfully. He was the only one among them to ever use first names. It didn’t really matter anyway. Both the first and the last names of the Keepers were aliases. All of them had long forgotten their real names. In Lunatic’s case it could even be said he had never known his real name.
‘Raven was forced to take drastic measures and he solved the situation quite well, if you were to ask me.’ Reaper stated.
‘Nobody’s asking you Reaper. Raven should’ve never let himself fall into a position where he would be forced to anything. There is too much at stake to let our guard down!’ Wolf had a number of ideas milling through his brain. What seemed most likely to him was that Raven was trying to use the Keepers to establish a persona base of power. He had already recruited Harlequin as a personal attache, Wolf had no doubts he could take this trend further.
‘The system lacked. I merely stepped in to reinforce it. Tormentor and Deadman knowingly betrayed everything we are. But my integrity isn’t the matter here. Right now…’
‘Don’t you dare take this conversation and twist it to your own ends. You may have called us together for a reason but there are consequences to…’
‘If we don’t act now we’ll be discovered, we haven’t the time to…’
Lunatic sprang up onto the dais, halting the conversation between Raven and Wolf. The two of them looked up at the insane member of the Keepers and forgot their personal dislikes for a moment.

‘Thank you Verian.’ Wrathbringer waved Lunatic away. ‘Mistakes have been made, both in the near and the far past. Who should be credited and discredited right now indeed isn’t the matter at hand right now.’ Wolf glared at Wrathbringer, the fires of Hell burning in his eyes.
‘Of course we will eventually mete out repercussions on those who are proven to be at fault at the end.’ Reaper quickly said to keep the situation from burning to a crisp.
‘Indeed.’ Wrathbringer agreed. ‘We will punish the guilty after we get our ass off the stove. Corsair is burning. A war is being fought out in our backyard. We can’t move the entrance to the Shell so we’ll have to put out some fires if we want to keep the Keepers a secret.’
Raven and Wolf exchanged angry glances and nodded. The nod implied a truce, not a treaty. Reaper looked at the two with worry etched on his face. He didn’t trust this truce to hold up for more than a day. An hour in the same room would probably prove to be too much.


The vision ends. The headache subsides. My head crashes onto the metal table I’ve been lying upon all this time. I hadn’t even realised I had raised my head. I try to reach my head with my arms but am prevented from doing so by leather restraints. The bright light above me still blurrs out my vision of the rest of the room.
‘Gorgon?’ I ask, unsure whether she’s still there or not. The chaos slowly starts to subside.
‘Gorgon won’t answer. She can’t hear you.’ Raven’s voice, he’s trying to sound comfortable.
‘I’m sorry I had to jolt that into your brain but I needed you up to speed as soon as possible. We’re going to start an operation soon and need the two of you in the field. Don’t get aroused all too much. Your mind is still trying to cope with the changes. If you were to walk around now you could end up with permanent damage.’
I release the tention of all my muscles and feel my mind flow into ease as well. He was right. There’s a difference though. Something vague. More than just the pack of information that appeared from nowhere. It could be the side effects though. I can’t really say I care. If he’ll release me if I keep quiet I’ll keep quiet.


Tset was trying to keep up with the man he was tailing. The mystery man was fast. Faster than he’d ever seen any man weave his way through a war-torn land. The guy was hopping and ducking as if he knew where the bullet was going to pass before it was fired. Tset had been trying to get to the capital of this district for some time and he’d never been able to pass unnoticed. But now, in the footsteps of this black-clad assassin, he was getting closer than he’d ever been and that in less than half the time it’d ever taken him to get a third of the distance behind him. What Tset didn’t know was that his target knew that he was being followed. His life was on the line here and all he could think about was the glory it would bring him if he could break into the townhall of this city and find out how things exactly fit together. He’d be promoted for sure. Shill’d finally have to shut his trap when he were to get his lieutenant’s bars as well.

The guy had been following him ever since he’d knocked off that Dynasty member who’d been hiding in the exact spot he was planning to use. He smiled when the thought ran through his brain that the only one to have ever predicted one of his moves ended up to be a weak coward. At the other hand, it should frighten him more than it amused him. He didn’t care. When he ended that train of thought Xanstin Silencer found the building he’d been looking for and took up position.

Tset felt an eery feeling rising up from his stomach. The guy he’d been following had vanished. Tset realised the guy had found out about him. He also knew he shouldn’t try to step into the building where he’d seen the guy speed into last. But he also knew that if he didn’t he would come up without any information and the fact that he’d defied orders. Shill wouldn’t have the satisfaction of firing him. He wouldn’t let himself gat canned this easy. Tset stepped through the opening. Before him a living room hove into view. The place had been torn apart from end to end. The sparse and low-quality furniture showed that this was either the house of a drug-addict or a syndicate safe-house. Tset logged this discovery inside himself. At least the ‘Wing’ would have something to do when he got back, this place needed to be investigated from top to bottom. Tset leapt aside suddenly. A piece of cold metal shot through the air where his head had been a fraction of a second ago.
‘Impressive.’ Silencer’s voice was sharp and soft at the same time. Little louder than the whisper of a snake.
‘Thanks.’ Tset answered firmly.
Silencer laughed inwardly as he heard the confidence in his opponent’s voice. This fool didn’t even realise he was closer to death than a mouse in a cat’s mouth. Still the man’s skill was comendable. Most wouldn’t have even noticed that loose attack Silencer had thrown back there. This could become a worthy fight. Silencer certainly hoped so.

Tset slowly raised himself back unto his feet again and assumed a fighting stance. So far this guy hadn’t proven to carry a gun, still he knew he couldn’t take the chance. With his left side turned towards the Silencer Tset pulled a gun out of his right waist holster. It was a standard issue weapon, unmarked, as all Black Wing weapons were. With the gun firmly enclosed in his hand Tset felt assured he could take his enemy on. Silencer stepped out of the shadows into the meagre light of the failing sun. He was a thin man. His posture showed he was a well trained fighter, his movements betrayed a low center of gravity, sllowing for quick displacement of his weight. Tset on the other hand was an all-rounder, sturdy and well built, a more conventional fighter. Both of them weighed each other up, taking in the room as they did. Silencer was taking a huge risk here. He could always have his face surgically altered afterwards but he rather liked his current face, he didn’t want to have it turn up in any official records. Silencer knew full well he was facing a member of the Black Wing, this man was methodical and the way he tracked showed he had some knowledge of the surroundings, though his eyes were always darting from side to side, trying to find new things, gather new information. Silencer was sure the Black Wing had issued an all retreat order.
‘What are you doing out here?’ Silencer asked, hoping to get a reaction, any reaction, Tset didn’t let him down.
‘I could ask the same of you. Both of us are not where we want to be, nor where we’re supposed to be. We’re rogue elements.’ Silencer smiled. He liked this guy already.
‘ok.’ Silencer replied before darting forward and to the right. This took Tset off balance. With his left side turned towards his opponent he could choose wether to keep his left side towards his foe or spin the other way around to get his gun into the equation, exposing his back in the process. Tset opted for the first with a quick spun hop onto a matress. He tried to complete the spin and get his gun forward but Silencer was already within arm’s reach when Tset could raise his right hand. Tset’s hair fluttered back as a sharp sound of metal against metal tore through the room. The barrel of the gun fell to the ground, sliced off the rest of the weapon. Silencer straightened himself and put a knife against Tset’s throat.
‘Never rely on guns. They can malfunction all too easily.’
Tset ignored Silencer’s remark and threw his head backward while lashing out with his left arm. Silencer managed to nick Tset’s throat before he had to back away from the attack. A small trickle of blood ran down the Black Wing operative’s throat, disappearing behind the collar of his coat. Silencer had been amazed by his opponent’s speed. It was of course nothing next to his own abilities, but for a ‘normal’ human it was far more than remarkable to survive two attacks from the Silencer. The instant grasping of an opportunity also appealed to Silencer. He didn’t want to kill this man. He cursed inside himself. He couldn’t allow himself to have fun, he had work to do. What on earth was wrong with him. Tset took advantage of the small pause to pull another gun with his left hand, taking his eyes off his opponent for a split second. When he looked again the Silencer was gone.
----------
Next up: The Black Wing dig into affairs beyond their reckoning further while Stalker gets sent out on his first mission...

[Kabobward]

This one started a lot better then the first. I think you could stand to explain some of the character's thinking processes a little more. I really can't understand some of the things they do. Although I do like some of the characters. Lunatic is pretty interesting.

[Vortigar]

Kabob: With the first I can assume you mean Corsair? I'll take that little nugget to heart and will be paying a little more detailed attention to my charry's minds. Actually Lunatic is the oldest character in the story... The original idea for a guy like him and his way of thinking and fighting dates back over ten years when a friend and I thought up the lives of a pair of brothers that were used for scientific experiments and then escaped with a smattering of weird powers. Back then Loony was a bad guy, now he's just insane, though saner than he was back then.
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Chapter Three (Active duty)
The goal was set and clear. Kill the Grandfather of the Tiver syndicate. At first I’d thought they were kidding me. Tiver’s the smallest syndicate on the planet. Or nearly the smallest. I used to know these things for sure but nowadays my mind feels like a drainage ditch, all kinds of crap comes floating by and sometimes things just get stuck for a while. It’s been some time since my senses registered that pressure on my skull that I was so certain was there when I was still lying on that table. I can’t really pinpoint it anymore. Its probably gone. I’m just making stuff up. In any case they probably gave me Tiver because I’m the newest member besides Gorgon. They want to see what I can do before they integrate me fully into their plans. Well if thats what it’ll take, then I’ll show them a piece of pure craftsmanship.

Its great to be back on the street again. I stretch myself out to my full length and breathe in deep. The heavily polluted air normally stank enormously, right now I welcome it with open arms. I’m just here for a final check of the equipment. After the that its out into the woods to try and find the target. Stalker’s what they call me these days. It took some getting used to but I feel just fine with it now. I’m not exactly sure how long ago its been, frankly I don’t care. I’m back out again, the wild’s calling and I’m going to shoot some duck.

The car stops at an indistinguishable point. I take a look at my map and see the little red dot denoting the drop point. I look around quickly and get out of the car. Without a moment of hesitation the driver switches into first gear and zooms off. The silver fender glints a spark of reflected light into my eyes before it turns around a corner and disappears between the thickly grown forest. I step off the road and feel my foot sink into the undergrowth. This is a young forest, planted to ensure that no-one can casually get a glance. Admirable idea but it also makes it easier for infiltrators to close in. I lift the glasses off my nose for a moment. Its indeed dark. My timepiece says midnight. With these glasses on I didn’t really believe it. This technology is great. I remember my mercenary days, you used to walk around with overly bulky pieces of equipment on your face, good for training the neck muscles, in a fight it wasn’t very practical at all. I smile as I realise that was only a month or so ago. My old comrades must still be working with those things. The reflection from the car back then must’ve been moonlight glinting through the canopy, these glasses enhanced the light to massively higher proportions yet my eyes felt no strain at all, the thing also has a filter then. I’m not surprised really. I sling my pack onto my back and strap it fast. Then I head out Eastward.

The thick growth helps me stay out of sight but also impedes movement. I know how far I can go before running the risk of being spotted by the guards. And right now I just passed the limit. My speed slows down to a crawl as I try to find a decent enough tree to climb into. I know the other side has much poorer vision than I do but I also know I can’t rely on that advantage. If I can see them there’s always a chance they can see me. I’ll need to take out the three guards patrolling this side of the woods around the mansion. That means, three if the intell is right. I don’t doubt it is though. I spot a decent tree and make my way towards it. I’m a little too loud for my own liking so I take it down a notch. There’s simply no knowing. I reach the tree and drop my backpack. I take out the foldable rifle and sling it over my shoulder. The climb upwards is pretty easy, these boots really do help with your grip. When I first saw them I was rather sceptical about that but I needn’t have worried of course. The Keepers don’t want lose their latest recruit this quickly. I sit down on a branch pointing away from the general direction of the mansion. The tree will provide some cover. I adjust the range of my glasses and see my entire vision zooming in. A weird experience to say the least but I’ve used it while they were explaining these things’ workings. Almost imeadietly I pick up a small patch of light. One of the guards is slowly walking away from me, there’s a cigarette in his mouth. He’s too far away too take out though. If I lay down a corpse that far out it could draw attention.

The first guy passed out of sight, he walked too far away from me to make out between the mass of trees and bushes. I’m training my sights on the second of the three. He’s slowly walking towards me. I found him by using the built-in heat vision of the glasses. Easily and gently I follow him with the rifle’s targeter. Inside my blood is boiling to get on with the operation. I still need to get into the mansion and find this character and I don’t want to be caught in the morning light. I take one last peek around and pull the trigger. A clean bullet in the cranium is the result. The guy goes down like a candle flame getting treated to a bucket of water. I lower the rifle and smile as I instantly see the next target on my agenda. Its not the guy with the cigarette. Where’d he go? I push the question away and train my gun on the new guy. He’s a lot closer to me than the previous two. Have they noticed me and are they steadily advancing? I’ll have to get out of here, and soon! With another flick of the trigger the next target goes down. I lower the rifle and turn off the heat vision. It isn’t practical on the move. I fold up the rifle and take a peek downward to check the way down. In the corner of my eye I see a guy running towards the mansion. They’ve spotted me. I open the rifle again quickly and switch it to automatic. With a feint hiss the silencer and flash suppressor deactivate to allow bullets to pass without overheating the delicate systems. I pull the trigger and the third man goes down under a hail of fire. I flick the switches back and launch myself out of the tree.


He had been right. On its own the name Wolf said nothing, far too many mercenaries used that name. Together with Reaper and Raven a connection to Corsair came up that drew Cholin’s attention. He told the mainframe operator to spin out a print of the info before running off to a private computer terminal to type out a message to Lieutenant Shill. The general gist was: ‘possible link between Corsair and member of PC. Continuing observation to gain affirmation.’ Cholin logged out with a distinct sense of pride. Once again he’d proven his worth. He would find out what this codename business was all about. Inside himself he started to think up possible names to give to this operation. Cholin was a methodical man. He logged everything he did. Including solo operations and little investigations. Inside himself Cholin knew that this one wouldn’t rank into that last category though. If only he knew how right he was going to be he would’ve ceased operations then and there.


Lt. Shill looked around the room. The gathered Black Wing leaders of the mid-eastern district stared back at him. All of them were there. Except for Tset. Shill had his costumary air of power floating about him. In his eyes one could read the enjoyment and pride he took in his work. He was a good leader, an efficient leader, but not a visionary. That was Tset’s prime attribute, together with an instant likability. Many of the men present in the room wished furiously that one day Tset would take over Shill’s position. The fact that he hadn’t withdrawn as ordered and now was not present at the general meeting shattered that dream for most of them. Still they all respected Shill for his resoluteness and sharp wit, if only he were a little nicer in private.
‘As you all know Corsair has fallen.’ Shill hadn’t said hello or announced the opening of the meeting. Thus the opening sentence startled a lot of the attendants. They all bolted up straight in their chairs like school boys being scolded by their teacher.
‘Many rumours have spread about the events that led up to this current situation.’ Actually most rumours around the offices had been about Tset and what he could’ve found to make him commit this gross violation. Many men had already come to regard the excentric sergeant as a hero. The men present here were a little more pessimistic about the situation.
‘We lost ninety percent of all our positions and connections. Many operations had to be cancelled. We saw some of this coming but weren’t prepared for this kind of scale. Corsair is being torn to pieces and we have neither a why nor a how.’ Shill knew most of the other syndicates had been busy for quite some time to get their hands on the riches of Corsair but nothing had indicated any of them had the power to pull a stunt like this. Even the different allied syndicates together couldn’t muster enough strength.
‘Another grave fact has risen to the surface. Terak Rask and Callus Deadman are dead.’ The room reacted with a surprised humm. The news hadn’t spread as fast as Shill had expected. A few remained cool though. Those few would lead the recovery operation.
‘I’ve laid out a plan to get some grip on the situation again.’


Tset knew he couldn’t return to base now. A new lead had appeared out of the blue. But he still had nothing to show for, nothing precise enough to make Shill happy at least, nor Tset himself for that matter. Aside from that it was entirely possible he was being followed. The guy he’d encountered was a professional. Tset knew in his gut that his opponent could’ve killed him but kept him alive intentionally. Why? What motive could the guy have had for keeping him alive? Tset had the distinct feeling he was still being followed. He slapped a band aid under his chin and got up from the ground. It was time to thoroughly search this house, even though there was probably nothing there.

Tset’d been right. A single box of 6.5mm ammo was all that he could find. It was a lead though. 6.5 was not a calibre used by just anyone. There were only a select number of weapons that could handle that kind of ammo. Not enough to make Shill happy though. Tset pocketed a couple of the bullets and replaced the box in the closet he’d found it in. He went upstairs to the ground floor again and took a quick peek out the window in the kitchen. He’d like to make some coffee ut the entire room had been trashed just like the rest of the house. He was closer to town hall now than he’d ever been. He would reach it this time. He knew it. The window opened smoothly and in a couple of seconds the Black Wing sergeant was back out on the streets again.


The house looks like a bunker. A concrete cube of monstrous size. The balcony extending from the North-Eastern side looks particularly weird when seen in this light. I sit down on the ground and bind my backpack together tightly, making sure there are no extremities flapping about that could make a sound. The darkness is still my greatest ally here. If I can keep myself quiet there’ll be no problem. Even with these guys on full alert. I glance up at one of the watchtowers. The bottom of the top platform is lit up in red, denoting that the alarm has been raised. These guys are organised, but they haven’t got the expertise to keep the Stalker out. I smile and skitter out of the bushes that have been serving as my hiding place up until now. None of the guards notice the slight change in depth of darkness as I pace straight over the wide open lawn. The door will be another problem. Getting up unto the balcony unnoticed is also out of the question. A window it’ll have to be. I press my back against the western wall of the building. This part is bathed in shadow. A few metres over to my right light shines out over the grass from out of a window. My glasses simply pick it up and spread the lighting, making me notice that there’s a lit up patch but still showing me the rest of the surroundings in full detail. Flashlights are shedding their electricity everywhere, they’re still trying to find me out in the bushes. Fools. I move to the right past the wall in search of an unlit room.

During my search for a good entrypoint I come by a window allowing a peek into the entrance hall. At the top of the stairs I spot my target. I won’t need a lot of time so I just go for it. I step back and see one of the guards looking my way. Too bad. I leap forward through the glass protecting my head with my arms as I go. The target looks down towards me with surprise and fear in his eyes. To my right I see another guard, he was holding position behind the door. Before the man can react I’ve already put a bullet through his skull. I scan around the room. The target is gone. There are no further enemies, yet. I bound up the stairs, taking three flights at a time. Only now it registers how the place looks. Deep carpets, both on the floor and walls, smooth marble all around and a solid wooden railing running up past the stairs. A little piece of luxury inside a bunker. That means this guy is either greedy or lazy. The fact he ran away instead of whimper down upon the ground when I entered makes me think the greedy option was right. There are three doors in the small corridor at the top of the stairs. They’re all closed. I go for the one furthest away from the front door, putting on my glasses again during the way and switching them on. I switch off the light in the corridor before opening the door. A quick peek reveals an empty bathroom. I guess there are no guards left inside the building, else they’d come running already.

The next room is the only one at the other side of the corridor. I peek around the corner and find nobody in sight then step inside to check the parts that are out of sight. Behind me I hear footfalls on the carpet. Its either the guards or the target. I halt for a second and hear the steps go up the stairs. They’re guards. I throw the door wide open and jump behind the bed that’s positioned squarely in the centre of the room. I pull out my second gun and aim it at the wall. The inside walls aren’t nearly as tough as the outside ones. After waiting a feww seconds I open fire, my estimation’s based on nothing but sound. I empty the entire clip of sixteen shells into the wall then jump back over the bed and into the corridor. One of the guys is lying on the ground. Two more take a single step up the stairs before opening fire. They miss me by a long shot. The dark corridor provides me with enough shadow to keep me unnoticed. I drop onto the floor and open fire.

I kick open the door to the last room. Its an empty study. As I step back into the entrance hall another guard opens the door. I launch myself onto the railing and shoot the guy down while sliding downward. The carpet catches me neatly and softly. There are two more doors. I pull a grenade from my belt and kick open one of them. As I had guessed it’s the way down to the basement. I toss the grenade down the stairs and head for the living room. The living room is empty. Within seven seconds I’m back at the way downstairs. I switch off the light in the entrance hall and make my way downstairs. The first thing I see down there is the main electrical switchbox. I shut down all electricity and blast the entire thing to pieces. I reload both my guns scolding myself for not reloading one of them earlier and continue my way. After a few moments I find the target. He’s literally shaking in the corner of a room. He’s holding a gun in his hand. I pocket one of my weapons and without a sound I walk up to him and grab his pistol. I switch off the glasses and switch the options from dark to light. The entire room is suddenly lit up. I stare the target in the eyes and put his own gun against his forehead.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’ I fire the target’s gun and spin around, pointing my own gun at the point where the voice came from. A slender man is standing in the door opening. Had I counted wrong? There couldn’t be more guards, could there? No, this guy’s dressed differently.
‘Please, we needn’t create a bloodbath here. I was sent to contact you in the name of unit 893.’ He sounds sincere. The man’s voice is also full bodied and calculative. He sounds like a representative, but there’s no such thing in our line of work. Besides I don’t know anything about him.
‘Who are you?’ I cry out angrily.
‘I’m known as Hawk. Deadman has sent for you.’
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Deadman alive? Well, we'll get to that soon enough in detail. Vague detail ofcourse...

[Kabobward]

Not much to comment on. It was an all around good chapter. A few small typos which I'm only pointing out so this post isn't so short. Would be better if more people took the time to read this.

[Radical Ed]

You were right, you probably don't need to read the first one to enjoy this one. Besides, I don't feel like reading a full fic anytime soon. btw, Bob, these chapters are massive. I only read like one a day.

Anyways, I love the feel of this story. It's like a movie, and the fact that I'm tossed in the middle of events without knowing what happened before makes it moreso. I can't wait to see what's coming next. And I agree, there's some mispellings, but other than that, I've no right to complain.

[Vortigar]

Ed? Where'd you come from all of a sudden? Well, let me not be so unkind not to welcome a new face to the proceedings... May your stay be long and fruitful, but above all enjoyful!

Don't worry I won't post more than one chapter each day. I calculate the length in with the intervals. I aim for one each week but lately I've been a little busy round and about...

Okay, let's get back to that schedule eh?
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Chapter four (stable)

‘It seems they trust you nowadays.’ Are the first words I hear when I come to. This business of being knocked unconscious and waking up with a splitting headache is starting to become my trademark. I don’t like it one bit.
‘Giving you a pair of these.’ He says with a tone as if the words’d explain it all. I open my eyes and stare at Callus Deadman’s face, beside it are my glasses. Behind it is an empty room with flat metal walls. Not the futuristic smooth things you have in the Shell but ‘half rusted thirteen in a dozen makeshift’ kind of walls. The location is a temporary base or the inside of an old truck of some kind. If it is a truck it isn’t moving.
‘I’ve spent years trying to figure out some of the Shell’s technology and this has by far been the thing that has most impressed me. Vision enhancing glasses that not only keep you from being blinded and offer a wild array of different settings but also can take the light out of the opposition’s eyes.’ He knows I’m awake, else he’d have shut up already. I keep quiet to see where this is going before attempting to get some answers.
‘These things are able to create a zone of ‘lightlessness’ up to twenty metres in extent while allowing the bearer to see with perfect clarity. Which also explains how you entered the compound without being noticed by the multitude of guards. From what I’ve been able to gather these glasses work by emitting waves of a frequency equal to that of lightwaves, only displaced by half the wavelength, this makes the total wave in the area equal to zero and thus eliminates light. The thing I’ve never been able to figure out is how they were able to scan the surrounding area for the different lightwaves and then emit the proper counterwave before the light enters the area. Truly remarkable...’ Deadman diverts his eyes to me.
‘You must be wondering why you’re here. Don’t worry I’ll let you go without any pain in a few minutes. And believe me, you’ll feel quite refreshed.’


The print outs didn’t explain much but only showed that there had been spottings of people believed to be calling themselves Reaper, Raven and Deadman conferring. One even told of a fight between two of the alleged personages. Cholin knew that last bit had to be bull. Of course there were no pictures, at least of nothing more than backs and plucks of hair standing opposite to the well-known underground figure called Deadman. Still if he could link any of these rumours or educated guesses to the man known as Carlton ‘Wolf’ Assel he’d be able to call in a full investigation.

Cholin simply couldn’t sleep that night. Dreams of greatness flashed before him when he closed his eyes. He was onto something, something big, something nobody had noticed before. He wondered how the lieutenant would respond when he got his message. As a matter of fact Cholin started to worry whether Shill had got his message at all. Something this big, even though only rumoured as of yet, couldn’t be overlooked. The Black Wing had a lot of experience with digging through rumours and puzzling together the truth in between. It always was the truth ‘in between’, the rumours themselves were never totally correct but investigation usually came up with something linking the rumours together that they were able to pin on someone. Pin. That’s how Cholin thought. There’s a word of evil people around and all the Black Wing has to do is find something to incriminate any of them. It didn’t really matter if it was exactly true or not, people like Deadman simply needed to be taken down, literally in his case. Of course the Black Wing had nothing to do with Deadman’s death, they had never been able to find the man. And even when they did he was gone before they could move up in force.

Cholin bolted straight up in his bed. He couldn’t take it anymore. He leapt out from between the sheets and dragged himself in his clothes just before throwing open the door and running off towards the nearest Black Wing outpost.

There was nobody there. In the dead of night Cholin felt like a burglar. A burglar who’d stolen the key of a warehouse and was now going back to rob the place. He smiled. The door opened. One hundred metres of hallway and two flights of stairs later he sprung into his chair and switched on the terminal. Inside he was already racing through the network of information, trying to puzzle out how to best shed light on the case, what path would lead him towards salvation. The log in screen appeared and in full automation he entered his ID and password. With shaking legs he sat behind the screen, his face way to close for comfort, his back arced badly. The computer showed its opening menu. Cholin opened the main intelligence database and typed in the recognition key for the file he had opened this afternoon. The screen came up blank. Cholin shot back in his chair, all agitation and hope crashed for a moment. He shrugged and typed in the recognition key again. Nothing.

Cholin spent the next three hours trying to find a file he’d already printed earlier and coming up with nothing. Any search phrase he could think of came up blank or showed inconsequential information. Everything he’d hoped to see was gone. After three hours Cholin fell asleep on the keyboard, tears running freely from his eyes. The next morning they found him and laid him on the couch in the break room. They asked what had happened but didn’t get a straight answer, they never would.


‘We’ll deliver you at your pickup point at the time you agreed to. Don’t worry, you’ll be right on time.’ The words clamour through my head as I cross the dimly lit street to get to the appointed location. How did they know where and when I was supposed to meet? I hadn’t said anything. My mind is railing. A few hours ago I’d felt on top of the world. Back outside, back in the game. I was ready to rebuild a reputation in my new guise. But now. Now I find myself back with the feelings I’d had when I’d woken up that first time on a table inside the depths, or rather heights, of the Shell. Michael listener, gambler, friend of many. The Rat, an extraordinary thief. Those two names seem much closer to me than they had some time ago. Jeremiah Stalker, one of the Shell Keepers. He hadn’t really ever sprung into existence. Yet the name is still mine. If someone would ask right now I’d say I was Jeremiah, no doubt there.

The door of the bakery opens as I step onto the pavement near it. One of the clerks bids me entrance. I follow his directions. The warm air inside the shop mixed with the sweet scent of freshly bakes bread dazzles my senses. I was already feeling unwell, this didn’t help. I sit down on a bench opposite to the counter. I can imagine this shop filling up with customers, the bench being a relief for the elderly, or simply a place to chat. I did never lead that life. I can only imagine.
‘This way please.’ The man that leads me in says.
As I pass I take a casual note of him. A man in white a large moustache hiding his mouth and directing attention away from the rest of his features. A few wrinkles fanning out from his eyes. A jolly guy in all. I can’t say I have seen many of those in my days. Some used to say I was like that. Jolly. The word alone sounds weird to me already. Never mind the feeling that should lie beneath it.

I step down into the basement and find a small capsule sitting in the corner of it. The thing is just large enough to hold a human body. The light in the entire room is set up in such a way that the only thing in sight is the capsule and a slightly bent path towards it. I know I’m supposed to step inside. The baker still tells me to anyhow.


Tset crept inside through a small hole near the bottom of the wall. At least, it should have been the bottom if the ground hadn’t been blown away. On the inside the hole was ten centimetres from the ground, on the outside a little over a metre and a half. Tset’d been forced into this building because he could find no other way to pass the platoon of syndicate troopers that were trying to storm town hall.
Tset didn’t know the men were members of the Tillt syndicate. Nor did he know about the fact that one of the council members of Tillt was leading the men and that that was the reason they hadn’t given up on town hall yet. Kaltosh’ town hall had been used by Deadman for a conference once. He’d invited a number of the syndicates to send representatives. He tried to discuss the terms under which the different syndicates would ally. Who would have to attack whom for them to join forces with Corsair. The end result had been that all of them rather saw Corsair fall, no matter the threat to their own financial positions. In the end they’d had their way, it just didn’t happen the way they’d thought. Corsair had fallen from within. The different syndicates had been sending dispatches around about the fall and none had claimed it. This in turn caused everyone to try his or her luck and triggered the war.
Tset, as an outsider to the syndicates, didn’t know any of this. But he was trying to find out. He wouldn’t have the chance. He plodded up the stairs and looked out through the window. Beneath him to the right an exchange of fire was going on. Brief muzzle flashes and the occasional scream was all that was perceptible at this distance. Soon there’d be something to notice though.

Alissa Caress draped herself down on top of the four-storey building over looking the main road towards town hall. In her hands was the weapon that the Keepers had chosen to be most suited to her. She tapped a small plate on the side of the weapon and a tripod came shooting out from underneath the slender near featureless tube. Even the way the weapon looked suited her. Slender, well built, but most of all incredibly effective for its size. The thing was used much like a bazooka.
Another flick of a switch caused the weapon to unfold its targeter. Caress looked through the small scope and scanned over the different fighting men down in the street. Most of them were looking her way, only four floors down and focussed a little closer to their own position. Five or six were actually shooting. The return fire was a much more massive affair though. A fully equipped machine-gun emplacement was set up on top of the presentation balcony sticking out of the front of the ancient memorial building. Originally the thing had been built to honour the general that had ended the last Great War the world had known.

Tset was looking over the area with his binoculars when he spotted the man leading the men down there. A relatively old man compared to his comrades. Tset triggered the image-storing device built into the binoculars and continued his tour of the men. There wasn’t much going on really. Just guys trying to keep the other side from looking over the rim of their respective shelter too much. This operation was merely a diversion, the real assault was going on somewhere else. Tset figured the guy who’d cut the barrel off his favourite weapon could very well be that real assault. If it were just one man, a man of the qualities he’d seen then would be it. But then his still being alive didn’t add up. Tset took the binoculars from his eyes.
And he’d did it just in time to see a slight spear of light slash through the street. He looked back and forth between probable target and source, flicking his head around for a second and then set the binoculars to his eyes again. Tset almost threw up when the image generated by the electronic binoculars coursed through his irises into his mind. A man lay on the ground in a large pool of splattered out blood. One of the halves of his brain lay on the ground beside the left half of his body while the right half lay with the innards out a metre further. The leader’d been cut straight down the middle, vertically. Tset zoomed to a lesser enhancement to survey the situation and saw sparks of light lancing across the scene. One by one the men down there were falling apart into pieces. Most were sheared apart straight through the torso but some only lost an arm or a leg before being killed off permanently by another lash of light. The last was the luckiest, a lance through his head cut off the sensory cortex, depriving his brain from the ability to feel pain before registering the body as dead.

Beyond Tset’s knowledge Caress was once more living out one of her old hobbies. In her previous career as assassin she’d never been a surgical instrument. Maybe the precision of the individual kills fitted that description, but the general numbers and way of implementation could be described better as a cleaver or a hand grenade.


The Shell always had been calming scenery. I had only been there a few times yet but already it felt like home. The number of images inside my mind showing the interior of this place is far greater than the number of actual experiences I could’ve possibly accumulated myself. I bet the images came along with the information Raven’d given me as part of my crash course to enter the Keepers.
I step off the teleportation dais. Even now, as a part of the Keepers, the Shell amazes me. A machine built around a piece of rock to create a world upon it and then sustain it with everything needed for human survival. I walk towards one of the three doors at random. The plate of metal slides aside before me. Behind it is a long hall curving away from me. All of it is sheathed in the same dull silvery metal. I walk on and stare at one of the doors. There’s no other identification but a number. 5.1 my mind automatically links this number to a computer and surveillance room. The other half of my mind immediately asks itself why on earth the first room should be the surveillance room. Shouldn’t that room be put away from the entrance as far as possible? Teleporters must make the placement of any entrance pretty difficult. Maybe the first number denoted the number of the teleporter. Meaning this is the fifth floor in a way, all corridors linked to transport-pad number five. It could also be this place was built functionally in the first place and never meant as an audience hall. That’d make the gathering inside the Shell utter nonsense, could the Keepers have it wrong?
I step forward and the door opens. A lot of computers are revealed. I’d seen that one coming. As opposed to the screens in the teleportation chamber the terminals here do have keyboards. I sit myself down behind one of the machines and start searching for an activation switch. After three seconds of searching the screen springs into life by itself. I set myself to the task of figuring the system out. From inside my mind small bits and pieces of information start floating to the top about the functioning of the machines in the Shell.

‘Are you sure?’
‘The readings speak for themselves, He’s stable.’
‘What about the other one?’
‘She needed a lot more remodelling but she pulled through. I’ve already deployed her.’
‘So she seemed stable enough, eh? What about the effects from earlier intervention?’
‘I never invaded directly. Everything I’ve done was through the surroundings.’
‘It could still cause damage Raven, wise up!’
‘Don’t worry, its been done hundreds of times. They’re both stable and holding. They’ll be powerful allies, you’ll see.’
‘I’m not too sure yet. The next few days will be crucial.’

I see Reaper turn away and walk out the door. I switch off the monitor and head for the teleportation chamber. The meeting’ll start soon.
----------
Yes, a chapter with a title! You saw it right I've started naming the suckers again... The index page in my Word document was looking extraordinarily boring so it simply had to be done...

And no that gun isn't a laser. My imagination got a spark from Akira but didn't carry on the flame so to say.

Next chappy: five (Town Hall)
You guess where we're going...

[Kabobward]

There's always very little to comment on. I didn't notice a single typo in here, guess that's something. One thing that I thought was strange at first was Stalker waking up, since it was never stated he was knocked out.

[Radical Ed]

Yup. Definitely lovin this fic. Noticed some grammar and spelling errors, nothin big enough to interfere with the reading of the fic. But I didn't understand this:
Beyond Tset’s knowledge Caress was once more living out one of her old hobbies. In her previous career as assassin she’d never been a surgical instrument. Maybe the precision of the individual kills fitted that description, but the general numbers and way of implementation could be described better as a cleaver or a hand grenade.
Anyways, a quick question... You only use ' ' for your speech. I'm probably a bit of a noob for asking, but are you English, then?

[Vortigar]

RAAAAAAAGHH! lost a post... let's see if I can get that explanation as clear as last time...

Bob: Yeah well, I explained it afterwards. The man just doesn't want his hideout's location known... (?what's wrong with that sentence... ah bollocks!)

Ed: Ok there's three sentences in that quote, let me go over them one by one.
1. Caress was doing the shooting, Tset didn't knmow this, also Caress had been doing this kind of work for a long time and she liked it.
2. She'd been an assassin and that implies using subtelty.
3. But even though her precision carries subtelty the brute number of kills and her speed kinda snows this under...
I'll be looking for a multi-sentence rephrase as well, thx.

I didn't really consciously choose for single quotes. It does look cleaner though. I use the English spelling and grammar checker for this fic and pronounce and speak my English as an Englishman as well. The only thing I'm not is English, I still like the song 'Englishman in NY'. As you can read in my location I'm from 'Nethervoid... or land' (Netherlands, get it?), but you knew that already ofcourse.
----------
Chapter Five (Town Hall)

The men were on the prowl. Shill had given the order to engage. His aide, Artan, sighed with relief when the seemingly endless preparations finally halted and the operation was launched. The operation was large, enormous even. The biggest Black Wing operation ever sporting double the number of operatives ever fielded for a single cause. The Black Wing had changed its policy. No longer would they infiltrate, for the moment at least. They had fused into an army and were now sweeping across Corsair territory in search of intelligence. If one were to know the faces of every single operative he’d probably encounter one every hour just walking through a backhand village. The larger cities and especially the capitol were crawling with their numbers. If one knew how to recognise them that was. Shill himself remained holed up at headquarters. He kept track of the operation on the highest possible level, only knowing the most general picture. So far nothing that had really seized any attention had shown up so Shill had taken a break. It would take a week before the survey was done. They were only half a day into the works now. Shill’d hoped to find something he could wrench his mind around in the first moments but the reports had all come up blank. He’d thought the especially designated taskforces would come up with something soon but they hadn’t. Had he made an error in judgement?

He slowly nibbled his way through a sandwich. Inside his mind he knew it was a gamble. Any operation during a syndicate war would be risky. He knew it, all of those involved knew it. He could still clearly see the faces of the sub-commanders when he had explained his plans. Especially those that thought he was a straight bastard, the best boy in the class. He had instantly grown in their eyes. They’d never expected a gutsy plan from him. Shill’d never liked Tset, but right now he would have wanted him around. Tset would be able to steer on impulse. Operations like these, of the scouting type, were that daring man’s forte, not Shill’s. He shook the thoughts from his mind and looked up at Artan.
‘A communiqué, sir.’ The aide said flatly.
Shill took the flimsy and noted the sender’s name. Cholin. Shill’s eyes grew wide with anticipation. Comm runners only reported directly when they stumbled onto something big. Shill wasn’t disappointed when he read the message.
‘And so info on Deadman comes from outside the operation.’ Artan noted with a smile on his face.
‘Send in two communications experts. I bet he’ll need them. Keep one of our reserve teams on standby, relay any discoveries directly to them.’
‘Anything else, sir?’
‘Yeah.’ Shill smiled. ‘Pray.’


‘All the direct leaders of the campaigns in Corsair have been eliminated. All that remains is smash up the command structures to set the syndicates on the back foot again.’
Raven steps back to his location in the circle. I look around the circle. All of the Keepers are here except for the elusive Silencer. I still haven’t seen the man. I doubt I ever will. I’m not even sure if he’s a man at all. Gorgon’s staring dead ahead with that heart-chilling look of her. The name Caress pops up. I notice everyone looking at me. I smile.
‘Anything wrong?’ Wrathbringer asks.
I notice that I’ve interrupted the conversation. Why didn’t I hear? What? Raven looks at me worryingly. I straighten myself out and jump to attention like a soldier.
‘Just some thoughts milling through my head. Questions.’ I answer.
I know it was a stupid thing to say. I have no question. Well I do, but not questions you’d ask anyone to their face. Especially not these people. They were still all looking at me, except for Caress, she’s just staring at the wall at the other side of the chamber from her.
‘Have all records been purged?’ Raven asks, looking at Wrathbringer.
For a moment I wonder why they continues all of a sudden, then I sigh inwardly and turn my attention to Wrathbringer as well.
‘Apart from Shell itself all records on every network concerning any of our affairs have been wiped clean. I’ve even built a tiny background for the rebuilding plan. It’ll take quite some time for that base to become effective, but the seed’s been planted and now it only needs time to grow.’
Raven nods.
‘We still haven’t had any word from Silencer. We’re not even sure whether that’s positive or negative.’ Wolf stated.
‘Banshee’s agreed to try and find him.’ Raven replies.
Reaper’s looking back and forth between the two. I wonder what he’s thinking of.


Tset veered away from the window. The scene downstairs had nauseated him. He knows it. He’d pushed through it. But now it struck. He almost passed out. He wished he had. The world spun for some fifteen minutes. He felt as if he were floating on water in the middle of a storm, getting heaved up and plunged down slowly, nearly weightlessly. Time passed on calmly, relentlessly. Fifteen minutes stretched into eternity.

Tset opened his eyes and felt invigorated. His body felt cool but distinctly alive. He was so calm he could fall asleep right there. He knew he couldn’t. He had no idea how long the killing’d been ago. He buried his head in his hands for a moment and then got up from the ground. He flexed the muscles in his body to get the juices flowing again. The coolness gently faded into a sensation of millions of pins pricking him until he felt the warmth of his blood inside him. He slowly moved to the stairs leading downward. Inside his mind the plans to get into town hall were vying for his attention.


Cholin lifted himself off the couch he’d been placed on and felt a moment of disorientation before the conceptual part of his brain was set to work again and made him realise that he was still in the same room at the sub-station. Someone had left him a note. He pulled the piece of paper that was stuck to his sweater off and read the print. All the files were indeed gone. He’d left a message for the guy who’d printed the first report, he wasn’t able to recover anything either. Cholin pulled the printouts out of the pocket of his jacket that was hanging from the coathanger near the door of the room. He hadn’t wanted to follow this course of action. It brought to much risk with it. He walked back to his computer terminal, punched up the message he’d prepared earlier, tapped the send button and then switched the machine off. Shill’s reply to his discoveries had been rather cold. He wondered why for a moment and then shrugged. The Lieutenant must’ve been too busy. He plucked his coat off the hanger and wrapped it around himself. He grabbed the doorknob and froze for a second. He’d never stepped out into the open like this. Comm runners like him were never very active members. But this time Cholin knew he had to discover for himself. He was all wired up and wouldn’t leave this to anyone else, even if they were to offer a hand. Ok, he decided. Let’s do this. He opened the door and made his way outside. He stepped out into the abandoned streets and started pacing in the direction of the location where the picture he had in his coat pocket was taken. It had taken him quite some time to figure out operative placements during that time but in the end the machines had given him what he was searching for. The location was a street in the middle of nowhere. Just a street like any other. If one discounted the extraordinary meeting that had taken place there at least.


‘hu…’ Tset uttered as he saw a man in black appear from the shadows.
The man had scared him. Luckily his back was turned to him. Tset knew that black coat. Wasn’t this? No. Tset noticed the difference in stature. This was another man. A man in the same clothes. Inside he noted the fact he could’ve very well come upon a group or society of operatives that were unknown thus far. Operatives of great skill with extremely opaque objectives. The man simply walked away, muttering something. Tset stared after the figure for as long as he could, he must’ve missed his voice. He considered himself lucky that he’d got away with that one. He didn’t pursue the man. He wasn’t going to push his luck. He was here to visit the security rooms. He estimated there would be a number of Corsair-men down there. He’d kill them. He had the edge. The slim corridor that lay out before him ran past one of the walls of the building. It was only used by staff, or rather, it used to be used by staff before the war’d begun. Most of the Corsairs were stationed around the building in the gardens or up on the roof. He’d slipped past them and was now in a blind corridor for the sentries. Tset stepped out of the shadows that had hidden his entrance through the window and his figure from that last passer by.

So far his infiltration into the building had been far too easy. Tset knew this and he kept on banning the suspicions out of his mind. He needed to be focussed not worried. The stairs down into the basement were unguarded. Slowly he tracked his way downstairs, the stairs were made of solid concrete so it was easy to keep the sound to a minimum. The feint embrace of the darkness took in the silent operative. A few lit signs showed the way in the basement labyrinth. The small illuminated tags didn’t spread light farther than a single foot. Tset looked up the surveillance room on the first tag and noted the purple colour code that was attached to it. The entire basement was designed to be navigated in the total darkness. Tset reckoned that’s why there were no guards upstairs, down here any number of men might be sneaking up on you. He laid a cautious hand upon the wall and found it to be made of a soft material, air cushioned walls, designed to absorb sound. If there was anything special in this building it would be in the basement. The surveillance room was first priority though. But how could Tset be sure he wasn’t watched from there already? If he was his entrance had been noted already and he’d been let down here on purpose, in which case he wouldn’t be able to turn back. If he hadn’t been noticed he’d still have a chance to get on. Tset considered his chances as such and advanced into the labyrinth’s innards.


I down the contents of the glass and set down the glass on the unblemished metal surface of the table in my appointed quarters. The effect of the drink is instant. The slight tinge of pressure in my head subsides. Reaper was right about its effects. The Keepers all have a number of hideouts and houses on the surface of the planet. I, on the other hand, have yet to attain such luxury. At the end of the last meeting they told me they couldn’t risk exposure, so for the time being I’d be stationed here. My face apparently still looks too much like my former self to remain unnoticed by some of the organisations down there. I stare into the mirror in front of me and see the face of a friend. Its not my own yet I know it intimately. A vague notion of self, not at all the natural feeling of recognition one should have when looking at a mirror. What on earth is happening to me. I know several parties have been messing around in my mind now. The first was Ast Maskbearer the late Keeper who died by my very hands. I’d shoved a knife through his artificial eye and caused a malfunction in the systems wired into his head. The action had sealed my fate to become one of the Keepers. A replacement of the man I’d killed. The strangest thing is that I have no intention of running. Its not the fact that I know I can’t escape that’s holding me back. It’s the fact that I don’t want to run that’s keeping me here. I take a few steps back and crash myself down onto the bed. I’m caught and caged by my own mind, or at least the changes made by somebody else, forced into a mould that doesn’t really fit. But I can’t resist and won’t rebel because of it.


The purple trail ended. A door with the surveillance room tag on it was lined out in the silent dark. A slight reflection arced off the doorknob. He wrapped his hand around the cold metal. The door opened in total silence. A room lighted by a wall full off flickering viewscreens hovers into view. Tset glanced around the strobingly lit room and found no one in view. He opened the door a bit further and slipped through the crack in the darkness. To his left there was a desk, to the right a doorless frame leading into a room filled with tapes in huge cabinets. The most commanding in the room was straight ahead, the wall of backlit glass that showed every nook and cranny of the building. Every nook and cranny except for the basement. Most of the cameras were targeted outside. At some point the strategic commanders of the defence must’ve sat here. Why were they gone? A number of chairs were strewn across the room randomly. On the table stood a phone with the horn beside it. Whoever was here last didn’t want to be interrupted. Tset stepped inside fully and closed the door behind him. The soundproofed piece of wood fell into its resting-place in total silence. He was starting to get more and more nervous. On the screens in front of him he could see the scenes outside, silent carnage was being shown by four of them. A shootout between unknown parties. Tset took his eyes off the scenes before him and moved into the tape-room.

The place was as unlit as the corridor. The flickering light streaming in from the other room served as the only illumination. He tried to find a light-switch near the door on either side.
‘Don’t bother searching, the light doesn’t work.’ A familiar voice answered to Tset’s probing hand. The voice sounded hollow, the resonance was being plucked out of the air by the soundproofed walls and ceiling.
Tset flashed his eyes around the room, his mind working full speed to take in the surroundings. The Silencer kept himself well secluded between the rows of cabinets for a moment to stay out of Tset’s field of vision but then seemingly changed his mind and stepped out into the open.
‘You again?’ Tset asked coldly, the soundproofing aided the tone of his voice to become more menacing.
‘I sent the rest of them away if you were wondering about the apparent emptiness of this place. They were ordered to let you through unimpeded.’
Silencer didn’t mention the fact that he was surprised to see Tset enter the building. He was sure he couldn’t have done it alone. Exactly that was the reason he had let the operative through, he was after information on the enemy. His suspicions were far too clear to be set aside though, so confirmation was actually a better word. In turn Tset was wondering why he wasn’t killed earlier. If this man held sway with the Corsair forces he shouldn’t hesitate to write a Black Wing operative off. Tset himself didn’t know how he had entered the building. He had memories of the event of course, but those were false.
‘You’ve been running around this town both after and before me. Your skills have proven to be better then any of your colleagues’ I’ve met so far. This time your little path to glory ends though.’
Tset pulled out a gun in return. Silencer grabbed the hilt of the slender, ornate blade hanging in its scabbard from his side. Tset noted the weapon and his eyes grew large. Who in the right mind would be walking around with a slight sword like that in this day and age. Silencer saw Tset’s expression and didn’t take advantage of the situation to attack.
‘You can call it a status symbol. Very few people have ever had the pleasure of feeling the distinct elegant pain that is caused when a rapier bites through the bone of one’s upper arm or leg. The grating sensation of the vibration caused in both the blade and the muscles of the victim are truly a sensation to behold. The moping that usually follows is rather undignifying though.’
----------
Next chappy:
six (Unexpected)
What's Silencer got on his mind?

Vorty presses ctrl+A ctrl+C and hits the submit button

[Radical Ed]

A few things. One, thanks for clearing that up ^^; And it was the last sentence that didn't make sense, but I wanted to keep it in context. It makes more sense now, though. Oh, and the quotes thing gives it more of a flashback feel, more dignified, I guess.

At one point you used "feint embrace"... Maybe you used a different definition of the word (which means I have to look it up for once), but did you mean faint? (this isn't a point to really beat yourself up over, it's more out of my own anal curiosity...)

I beat bob to commenting! w00t

Ah, and I love Silencer's little description at the end there. Wonderful imagery in this chapter, it has a very quality feel to it.

Ah, one last thing. I noticed that all of your first person scenes have the distinct choppiness to them, and although I can agree with the one-clause-per-sentence thing, is it possible to make them more fluid? Not multiple clauses lol. It makes it very... Unique, points it out to the reader. But the sentences don't always seem to link together coherently.

err... Sorry for the actual criticism this time ^^;;;

[Kabobward]

This chapter did seem to have choppier sentences, and a lack of synonyms. It was the most interesting story wise, though. I can agree with ranma on the ending.

[Vortigar]

I've sought through the document and must attest to the fact that I've replaced two instances of feint with faint... thanks for noting that one. I see a lot of these wordmix-ups on A4 and was under the daft illusion that I was as yet free of these "misinterprets of the spelling checker". I guess I was wrong... snf snf ^_^

And yes, I've also noticed that some bits of the story run rather choppy. I'll need to rephrase some of that stuff. I usually keep myself from starting too many sentences with the killer four ("I, the, then or a name"). It only really becomes conspicuous when you build a number of sentences in the same way...

The following chapter hasn't been doubly checked for 'choppiness' but I'll keep an extra eye out for it in the future (I'm writing chapter 8 right now so if it persists I'll check number 7).

And Ed, there's no need for excuses...
----------
Chapter Six (Unexpected)

Tset backed away from the Silencer. His opponent held his ground. Silencer let go of the sword and spread his arms in a peaceful gesture. Tset wasn’t fooled by this and kept his weapons aimed at the man in front of him.
‘You don’t carry a gun, do you?’ Tset asked to drive the point home.
‘In my experience the things are close to useless.’ Tset reckoned Silencer was bluffing. ‘You can’t get out of here you know.’ Tset knew.
Silencer lunged forward, lashing out with his left hand. Tset fired both his weapons. One of them missed altogether. The other crashed into Silencer’s suit, which flared up white, the bullet got crushed to a flat disk before falling to the ground impotently. Two guns followed the poor metal slug. Tset hopped back in fear and let go of the two pieces of the guns he was still holding in his hands. He didn’t even notice the sound of the two grips as they clattered to the ground. One of his hands was bleeding, a strip of skin was laced off his left thumb, the open air burned into the shallow crevasse. Silencer had put the tip of his rapier against Tset’s throat somewhere between there and then, Tset couldn’t pinpoint the occurrence.
‘I bet you’re wondering where the scales turned on you so suddenly.’ Silencer smiled. ‘Let me assure you the scales were never in your favour. Guns are for those with very little ability of their own. Very few agree with that view though. Which, in turn, allows for easy identification of the better half of the fighters.’
Tset just stood there, a death threat pointed at his throat, that same throat felt parched to the bone. Only one question rose up in Tset’s mind:
‘Why am I still alive?’
‘You’re being tested as we speak. I’d neither like nor am allowed to kill you. Unlike what you might think there are people above me.’
Silencer could still clearly remember Wrathbringer’s words. Maybe it’d been a bad choice to ignore the general call to gather but Silencer didn’t really care anymore. He couldn’t let this man out of his sights and there were still some things going on that didn’t add up.
‘Thing is, I need your help to cover my back while I figure some stuff out. I’d hoped to find it here but luck has somewhat abandoned me lately it seems. I’m after Deadman’s corpse, you Black Wing guys wouldn’t have him on ice somewhere?’
Tset was dumbstruck.


Back out on the streets again. Reaper’d told me that we usually receive our briefings directly into our minds. But my bit of headache could very well be a remnant of earlier treatment so they couldn’t risk it this time around. And now here I stand completely lost in a city I’d never seen before, tracing my path on the map they’d given me. I was flown in by a normal plane and had got lost between the airport and the hotel I was booked in. I set out in the direction of the hotel, I’m only three blocks away from the establishment. The city itself looks rather new and designed for the rich. Wide open lanes, large houses, very few apartment buildings, except for the occasional extra deluxe hotels that rent their top few floors to the public for extraneous amounts of money. I shake my head as I see a couple of children racing past in a car I couldn’t even afford if I’d spend my entire life savings on it. The people that pass me left and right have no interest in me. I’m dressed in a suit appropriate for the occasion and thus don’t peak interest in this land of the richest. Tomorrow evening I’ll be attending an art banquet. One of the leaders of the elusive K4.11 syndicate will be there as well. It seems the man is an extremely avid art collector and has a collection that would, if sold, gain him so much money he could buy the neighbouring Saldorano syndicate, including the whole staff and attached companies.
“Silver Sliver” read the sign above the revolving glass door. I’ve reached my target. I put up a smug face and step inside to install myself in my pre-paid fifth floor semi-apartment replete with mini-bar and room service. At least there are some merits to being a Keeper.


Cholin picked his way through the debris carefully. Somehow this street had been important enough for three figures of import to meet. Or it could’ve been the exact opposite and Cholin’d be back at square one. Down one end of the street stood a snack-bar and down the other way it stretched on into an eternity of simple urban homes, none of them seemed more suspicious then the next. As he slowly made his way through the half-destroyed piece of city he smiled as he passed a wooden shack. A few homeless men were still clinging on to life by helping a young man build the front of his shelter anew. It was a weird sight to see people building in the middle of this street that was blown to pieces. This part of town had seen no deployment of heavy weaponry or armour yet it looked as if a pack of tanks had just come blasting over the asphalt a few minutes ago. Cholin halted. The military hadn’t deployed any heavy machinery, yet the syndicates could’ve. There had been a heavy fight here between different syndicates. Something of import was indeed to be found in this poor part of the city. Cholin stared back and forth through the street. The young man was just putting a sign back up above the door, several bullet holes were drilled through the piece of wood. “Ark” it read, there used to be more but it had been destroyed. Further down the street was a crossing, one of the buildings on the corner was almost entirely intact. It looked as if the thing had been avoided by all ammunition. Either that or the building was made of armoured material. Cholin smiled and made his way towards the anomalous building.

The place used to be a cafe. Cholin couldn’t believe the mobs would leave this place standing out of some feeling of respect one way or sentimentality the other way. The double front doors had been torn from their hinges. The doors themselves were nowhere in sight. They must’ve been pulled out before the fighting over Corsair started Cholin decided. The hinges that stuck out from the plaster revealed a layer of concrete behind them. The walls themselves were exceptionally thick as well. Cholin wouldn’t be surprised if there also were a steel skeleton running through the concrete. Cholin looked inside. One man stared back at him. He looked a bit worse for wear, then again, that could count for anyone in the entire province right now. He was dressed in a torn dark purple trousers and shirt. A jacket and top-hat, both in better condition, were sitting atop each other on the chair opposite to the man’s seat. The table that should’ve been standing in between the two chairs was over turned and lay to the side, bathed in the light streaming in through a window on the first floor. Cholin stared up and saw that the main-hall was indeed two floors high. The living area was on the second floor, connected to the lower parts by a staircase hidden behind the back wall of the main-hall. The man looked at Cholin with bright blue eyes, his half long brown hair almost reached down into his field of vision in uneven plucks.
‘Have a seat.’ The man said, conjuring up two glasses and a bottle of scotch that had been sitting behind his chair up until now.

Cholin gently sipped from his glass as he put a chair back on its feet with his free hand.
‘You’re Black Wing aren’t you?’
Cholin spurted out the contents of his mouth when he heard the question, then composed himself and sat down slowly taking a new sip.
‘What? How did you come up with that?’ Cholin replied with shock on his face and in his voice.
‘Just like the rest of them…’
‘Who?’ Cholin interred.
‘Well, you.’ Cholin raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ve seen more than a few Black Wingers hunting for something or other around this area. They left a couple of hours ago, they didn’t look at all satisfied.’
‘But I…’ Cholin continued undeterred.
‘Please, have a little respect for a man who gives you a leg up. You’ve already been here, you’ve already turned this place upside down and found nothing as I told you.’ The man’s voice started to shake with anger. ‘There’s nothing here, I was just lucky that I constructed a solid place.’
Cholin gave up trying to deny his allegiance, this man was no fool and he could use every bit of compassion he could get.
‘I…’ He began but the man gestured him to be silent.
‘I do indeed know about some deals that went on around here. Even before I built this place I knew there was a danger. I took a gamble and put a cafe where there was none. Business was great, until all hell broke loose of course. There was a syndicate HQ a block to the east here. The entire thing’s been blown to pieces. I had taken precautions against possible attacks or fire and that’s why I’m still here, my building I mean.’
‘I’ll be conducting my business there then.’ Cholin answered matter of factly. ‘I’ll be back for another drink soon. I’m guessing you need some more time to decide your next move.’
Cholin got up but the man grabbed his arm.
‘I’ll guide you, if there are any mobbers left they’ll simply think we’re survivors of the area. They know me.’
‘Thanks.’


Shill was trying to rush through the pile of reports that had started coming in. It seemed every agent had found a new lead, a bit of knowledge, or a half-dead informer. That was what Shill had thought when he’d seen the pile but his excitement was quickly killed as most reports simply entailed body counts, summaries of equipment, syndicate resource estimations, and the like. Shill slowly started to get convinced that the syndicates could summon up a far more powerful army than the entire planet’s official forces combined. Thing was, that was exactly what had been going on. A battle far beyond what the military could contain had raged in Corsair territory. Yet the Corsairs were still standing here and there. The battle had been raging for three days already yet after all the casualties and all the masses of troops being sent in there still wasn’t a winner. Most of the civilians had already abandoned the major cities that formed the stages for the biggest of the fights. The further he came through the pile the bleaker the image became in Shill’s mind as the highest estimations started to re-occur. If he were to believe the majority of the agents there was still a battle to come. Everywhere pockets of syndicate troops had taken key-points. The preliminary fighting to determine borders was ending right now. Soon the fires would rage up when the syndicate leaders had assessed their gains and ordered new attacks. The great battles had ended but the more dangerous war was about to begin. A full-scale fifteen-sided guerrilla war was about to be launched. Most of the agents would not emerge alive from such a conflict, they would be gunned down by snipers or be executed as they crossed an unknown and unmarked border between two syndicates. Shill quickly made his way to the basement of the building where the intelligence department was slowly plotting out the powers arrayed against one another. Central to the tasks of the intelligence officers stood the assignment to create a map with all the parties lined out. Shill looked down upon the computer projected scale model of the Corsair territories and saw a chaos of lines shift across the lands and cities at a slowly decelerating rate.


I gulped down the contents of the glass that was handed to me a second ago. The waiter who was tending the area where I stood looks at me in surprise. I look at the tray in the man’s hands. I look at the man himself. I grab another glass of champagne and throw it back as well. The man smiles at me and moves on, leaving me with the glass in hand. I raise myself to my full length and take a quick look around the room. The entirety of the walls and ceiling is covered in golden paint, marble pillars try to give a semblance of old architecture, In all respects the hall hurts the eyes with its open display of wealth and colour. The guests are slowly dripping in. I notice a number of people doing the same as I, looking around. They’re probably looking for friends or, more probably, vague acquaintances with a lot of money. I never really liked this upper class pretentious keeping up of appearances but its funny to observe. It doesn’t take long to identify the movers and shakers at occasions like these. You just follow the most expensive dresses and figure out where they all converge, the poor sods who were forced to buy them must be around in the general area. The richest will probably be the centre of attention. I’m not looking for the richest of the lot though, for a change, I’m looking for the least conspicuous of them all. Or that’s what I thought until now. The target walks in followed by a number of men in matching costumes. While his party wears standard tuxedo’s my friend is dressed in a beige and white combination that goes extremely well with the pale skin of the woman at his side. A number of the upper-classers stare at the woman intently, weighing her up against their own wives, checking the man beside her and try to judge his relative status to them. The woman certainly wakes up a lot of the sleepers in the room. A perfect figure, bright blue eyes and golden hair will do that. The syndicate boss picked a good one to accompany him tonight.

My eyes follow the man around the room as he goes through the obligatory round of friends and those of power. The order in which he goes past the “important” men and women is the same as most of the ones before him. It’s half past seven now, the exposition won’t start until nine, and I’ve got to get it over with before then. The security will intensify once the vaulted doors that lead to the exhibits open. Not that I’m really worried about security but I don’t want to be taking unnecessary risks either. I’ll just take it easy until eight fifteen and then make my move once a good opportunity presents itself.

I’m pretty lucky. The target hasn’t got a lot of friends and so is constantly hopping from group to group. He’s really only interested in the art not the whole charade around it. Every now and then he explained some obscure fact or style that the exhibiting painters used to come to startling end results in some piece or other. These little speeches usually startled the non-expert minds of the rich people. No, the syndicate boss really didn’t fit in here as a true collector known in the art-world instead of the cash-world. In that aspect his wife, or mistress I’m not really sure, has a lot more success. Behind me the clock points out its eight fifteen and I see my chance.

I push one of his bodyguards aside and stare intently at the target.
‘Who are you?’ He asks, which happens to be exactly the reaction I was hoping for.
‘I’m the Stalker.’ I intone darkly while flipping out my glasses and putting them on.
Immediately the light is drained from every last corner of the hall. I circle away quickly to make my location unknown once again and pull out the two non-metal guns Reaper’d given me. Those guards will have a hard time keeping their boss safe without their usual armaments. Metal detectors truly are a blessing. As I cross my way into a good firing position, which I had determined earlier, I vaguely notice the chaos around me. If you know what’s going to happen sudden panic doesn’t seem all that panicky anymore. Of course there are the people that bump into you but when people can’t see and you can you’ll notice they get really clumsy. I hop up onto a table with drinks on it and open fire. The noise of my weapons is instantly drowned out by the notable increase in screaming that’s caused by the gunfire. I see a number of people stare in my direction intently. Two of the targets guard go down. The plastic weapons don’t fire shells that can tear through men’s bodies and cause giant damage so their deaths do look rather puny to my eyes really.
----------
next chapter:
seven (Unit 893)

I've just a little question for you guys: Do you know where 893 comes from? I plucked the number combination out of our own little planet and was just wondering if anyone already figured out what it was (or simply knows it).

[Kabobward]

That was the easiest chapter to follow. Went smooth. I'm getting more used to the characters, which is a big help.

I have no idea what the number means.

[Radical Ed]

893? O.o no clue...

The great battles had ended but the more dangerous war was about to begin. A full-scale fifteen-sided guerrilla war was about to be launched.

Sweet. Can't wait to see where this heads, as if we aren't being given clues...

[Vortigar]

Wow, thanks Bob... I hope I can keep (have kept) it up...

For now, that war will have to wait, there are more important things on a lot of people's to do lists...

Well, the meaning of the combination will follow in a while, I was just curious if anyone had figured it out yet...
-----------------
Chapter Seven (Unit 893)

‘There’s not much left.’ Cholin remarked, drawing a tight nod from his companion.
‘I was quite amazed when I noticed the bar was better resistant to fire than this place. Corsair had been housing men here for ages. And with all their reputation… one simply assumed…’
The man was obviously reminded of the dire scenes he’d seen around here. The corpses had been cleared out of the area but the memories remained, as did the red stains of the fallen. Cholin imagined what it would’ve looked like and immediately banished the thoughts from his mind. The vision of a street awash with blood still chased him though.
‘This used to be the entrance.’ The man proclaimed with a shrill voice pointing at a flat and empty space amid the debris. ‘The entrance hall used to be a place where people would meet. To the commoners the Syndicate wasn’t at all malicious or cruel. Exactly the opposite was true actually. I guess that’s why a real effort to exterminate the syndicates was never made.’
Cholin looked at the man beside him and noticed his sad face once more. He’d never thought about how the people thought. To him the syndicates were an evil that the world needed to be rid of. Even though he was raised in one of the richer parts of the Western part of the continent he’d somehow become adept at sneaking his way into and through things. People naturally believed him. Once, a syndicate had tried to recruit him, or at least he thought it was someone from a syndicate. He was never able to prove it for a fact. From then on he decided to do whatever he could to stop the syndicates. Most in the Black Wing were ex-military or police or had lost something or someone to the crime lords. Cholin was one of the exceptions. He was only allowed in because of the enormous amount of cash he brought with him. He didn’t care. He’d have dedicated anything he had against the syndicates anyhow. Something of an unerring sense of justice and righteousness had always stirred in his heart. Now that he heard the man speak sad words about the passing of Corsair Cholin realised for the first time that this piece he’d always thought black was actually grey.

He was suddenly reminded of his own past. He’d never thought about his past. The future was far more interesting as far as he was concerned. His parents had deteriorated into vague images. His past life seemed so far away, as if they were somebody else’s memories he’d read in a book. From where did this sudden feeling come?
‘Hey, you okay?’
And then he knew. He was looking into the eyes of that man. His memory sprang into life and became reality, overlaying what was before his eyes.
Callus Deadman looked at the Black Wing operative before him and smiled.


‘So this is it?’
The intelligence officer answered Shill’s question with an inviting gesture towards the map on his screen.
‘Only three syndicates have fully withdrawn from the scene.’ Artan noted. ‘Leaving twelve inside Corsair borders, including Corsair itself. The fight is far from over.’
Shill looked at his assistant angrily. He was fully capable of drawing his own conclusions.
‘Has there been any word from Cholin or Tset?’
‘No sir.’
‘No? I’d expect that from Tset but Cholin’s far too straight to keep out of touch for so long.’ Shill frowned. ‘Has the team that would wait for any note of him moved out?’
‘No sir.’
‘Then what?!’ Shill’s amazement added to his anger to produce a frightening result. Artan drew back in fear.
‘There’s been no word whatsoever from either of the two.’
Shill closed his eyes. No word was bad, no matter the cause. Either they were dead or in too deep to extract quickly. Even though he didn’t like to admit it Tset was his best operative and Cholin was extremely close on that man’s heels. Shill couldn’t risk losing both of them but they’d apparently acted on their own volition. Normally the lieutenant would’ve condemned the two of them and moved on but the timing was simply too bad. Something beyond the usual wrong was wrong here and Shill couldn’t stand it.
‘Artan, you will take over command, I’m going to do some personal fieldwork.’
‘Yes sir!’ Artan and the intelligence officer called out in unison. The latter was struck with amazement, the former simply smiled.


One of the faces in the crowd catches my eye. My mind races and recovers the identity. But why is he here? Verian Lunatic launches himself out of the crowd snapping the target’s neck as he passes overhead in a stretched flip. He lands next to me in the middle of the room, over five metres further.
‘I’ve been tracing some movement and it lead me here. Get out young one!’
His voice was sharp and uncharacteristically sane. He must be really focussed. I suddenly realise he wasn’t wearing any glasses or goggles. How was he able to see? I notice a number of hatches open near the top of the hall. Those things must’ve been installed to allow for easy hanging of paintings and tapestries of exceptional size. From each of the holes emerge a man that jumps out and one that takes position there with a rifle in hand. The men are wearing body armour and night vision goggles, except for one who’s dressed in a white jump-suit. I open fire at the guys aiming down. My fire bounces off them harmlessly. I jump and roll aside. A number of holes are pecked into the floor where I was earlier by the high powered weapons. The screaming of the crowd instantly renews as the harsh sound of the rifles tears through the pandemonium near the doors.
‘Here, try these and the leave.’ Luantic orders, tossing me a pair of handguns.
He jumps off towards the five men advancing on the ground. His feet take out two at one side before the others are even able to react. Planting his hands on the floor lunatic swings around in a breakneck manoeuvre, locking his legs on the neck of his next victim and flipping him over and into the next foe. The last is pulled onto his back as Lunatic sets himself down on his head and yanks the feet away from under the other’s body. I’m instantly reminded of the one occasion in which I’d seen his sister fight. She was faster than him but far less supple. She fought in an efficient yet crude manner, lunatic slashed around in perfectly tuned and times arcs. The man can bend his body into vectors most female athletes could only dream about.

I take my glasses off and jump out into the open. As I had expected the goggle-wearing men are temporarily blinded. I take out the snipers in quick succession. I catch lunatic’s appreciative nod as he raises himself to his feet and strikes an elegant pose in front of the man dressed in white.
‘Unit 893 would be honoured if its representative would be allowed to square off against one of the famed Keepers.’
Lunatic followed Deadman’s men here?
As if answering my question the mad Keeper darts forward and lashes out with his right leg without moving his left foot from its place, forcing him into a split. His opponent blocks the attack with a like speed and is forced back by the blow. Lunatic starts himself into a horizontal and vertical spin with the last bit of relaxed muscle in his left foot. Another pair of legs flies towards the white man who jumps back in surprise only to find his opponent launching himself toward him feet first by use of arms. The man is unable to dodge and takes the full blow on his arms, which he crossed before his body. Lunatic uses the arms as a spring board and turns his forward directed movement into forward-upward allowing for another set of attacks to the head. The man has no choice but to drop to the floor like a string-less puppet. Lunatic lands just a few feet further and is swiped off his feet by the white man who already managed to recover in the split second in between.
‘This fight might take all night unless you leave.’ I turn around and see Hawk standing in front of me. ‘Now come on.’
The entire affair had taken less than a minute. Dazed by a sense of jetlag I follow Hawk to a car standing at the other side of the street. The thought of turning him down didn’t occur to me.


‘Is that a no?’
Tset looked up at the Silencer standing over him. He wanted to answer but couldn’t. Not with certainty anyway. Somehow Tset hadn’t even tried to lie. He was simply too amazed by the fact that the Corsairs themselves didn’t even know what had happened to their leader. Silencer shook his head and spun around on his feet.
‘As far as I can see you’ve got two options if you don’t want to answer. You can either lead me to someone that does know, or you can die right here and I’ll kill some more Black Wingers in my search for an answer.’
‘I’ll lead you in.’ Tset answered.
Silencer opened a drawer behind his back and produced a pair of shining black pistols.
‘As I’ve said before these things are useless. I’m just taking them along as a precaution.’
Silencer’d never use a gun himself. It was below him. The guns truly were a precaution. If they were to stumble across opposition, which could be men from either side, Silencer would need an able man by his side. Tset knew full well that the weapons were meant for him.

The way out was a strange experience for Tset. Silencer guided the agent past numerous Corsairs who all knew who and what he was. Tset doubted if he had made the right choice. Something inside him told him he should have chosen for death, another part told him being alive was the better choice. As Silencer led him through the gardens he decided that he could always change his mind later on.
‘Okay, where to?’ Silencer asked, proffering a map to Tset.
Tset stared at the paper in front of him and realised that what he did now would be final. He shrugged and pointed at the location of the Black Wing post in the city. He was just as curious about Deadman’s death now as Silencer seemed to be.
‘By the way, you can call me Xanstin.’ Silencer said, folding and pocketing the map.
‘Tset.’ The agent replied, inclining his head.


For a long time I’d only known Harlequin as Banshee. I’d originally met her long before I joined the Keepers and thought she died. Six years after her alleged death we were re-united. I had met Cat just a bit earlier. The, for mercenary standards, old man had quickly become one of the best friends I’d ever had. With the entire Corsair syndicate after us we were actually forced to help each other out. When Banshee and I were re-united I still had no idea why Corsair was after us, she didn’t give any hints either. Nowadays I know she was one of the Keepers, a secret society literally above the rest of humanity that had instigated all the events between Corsair and me. Raven had put his contacts and power to good use as he carefully edged us into the arms of the traitorous elements within the Keepers. Cat, Gorgon and I solved the problems for Raven without ever meeting him. Through Banshee he kept us on track. Deadman, who was trying his level best to kill us once he realised what was going on, actually helped Raven achieve his goals, resulting in Deadman’s own death. Cat also died, much to my but especially to Gorgon’s grief. Gorgon had once been married to the, time and again, sentimental guy. In the end we found out Banshee was a member of the Keepers and Gorgon and I were left no other choice, or will, but to become one of them as well.

And now here I sit. In the backseat of a car with blinded windows. Next to me a man whom I mistrust with all my being. And I’m on my way to meet a man whom I’d thought dead until not all too long ago. This is going to be my fourth encounter with the ex-Keeper Deadman. But neither my memories nor my fears were bothering me much right now. It was that headache that was grinding through my brain that kept me from any coherent thought other than memories. I had felt it somewhere before. This exact same feeling of heaviness and pain across my entire body. That time it had been induced by one of the now dead Keepers. A man called Ast Maskbearer. With a visual acuity beyond my wildest imaginings the image of the man appeared before me, followed by the scene when I smashed a dagger through one of his bionic eyes and into his brains. It wasn’t difficult to deduce why they called him the Maskbearer. I’d heard Reaper and Raven talking about possible side effects from something or other. As I tried to keep the contents of my stomach in I realised what they had been talking about. The excruciatingly smooth feeling of relaxing muscle just before the whole load comes out tears through my body and I look up at the car window with an expression that scared Hawk who was sitting beside me out of his wits.


It hadn’t even been a minute and Shill had already contacted hostile elements. With trained precision somebody had used a grenade launcher to blow the engine out of the lieutenant’s car. Now Shill was stranded with four other operatives, exchanging fire with an unknown number of foes from an unknown side.
‘I guess the map wasn’t entirely correct, was it sir?’ One of the other operatives commented dryly, eliciting a round of chuckles from the other three.
Shill didn’t laugh. Instead he put a bullet through a head that popped up behind a window some three floors up. The grenade had come from some sort of hotel and they needed to clean the place out before they could attempt to hot-wire or repair any of the other cars standing around in the area.
‘Wait, hold your fire!’ Shill ordered.
All but one of the men listened. Shill crawled over to him and slapped him in the face with the back of a gloved hand. The man stared back at him in surprise.
‘Just what I needed.’ Shill thought. ‘I’ve got Mr. Triggerhappy on my team.’
‘Listen men, there could be a very good reason why the map showed no hostiles in this area.’
Two of the men nodded understandingly and tried to look like they were thinking of a way to signal the group inside the hotel. The other two needed to have everything spelled out for them.
‘They could be our men.’ Shill intoned vigorously.
One of the other two instantly took off his jacket and propped it up on a shotgun with the Black Wing logo clearly visible. Shill nodded as the man stuck his improvised banner over the roof of the car. There was no reply from the other side. The man stood up next to his banner and instantly got his head blown from his shoulders. Shill stared at the growing pool of blood with wide eyes of disgust. He even failed to notice the fact that he himself was drenched in the red liquid, not to mention the bits and pieces of skin, hair, skull and brain that were strewn through his hair. Shill snapped onto his feet, grabbed the automatic rifle he’d been pondering to use and stormed out into the open. The other three operatives quickly responded with covering fire. Without fail every bullet fired missed Shill and he smashed through the door finding a group of his own subordinates.
-----------------
next up:
chapter eight (Publisher)

[Kabobward]

Had to strain my eyes to read such with the new quote look. It was all around interesting. Lunatic's fight scene was a little technical for me to get into. That about sums it up.

[Vortigar]

Ok that new quote format is downright horrible, so they're out pronto!

Too bad my old works will never be re-read now, and I'm not one to be skimming around in that wasteland changing fifty to sixty posts...

Bob: well I read that instance again and thought it was quite readable. Then again I've been face to face with the previous version (which included a drop of one arm and leaning on one shoulder and the top of the head thereby displacing momentum to the lower hand side and smashing 3/4 of loony's weight side-ways) so I understand what you're pointing at, and I really do need to rewrite it... again...
---------
Chapter Eight (Publisher)

‘Lunatic truly is an exceptional fighter.’
I look at Hawk questioningly. Before my eyes the trees slowly part ways as we stroll through the park. For a moment I consider asking Hawk where we’re going but I keep it in.
‘Deadman told us a lot about Lunatic you see? The man’s insanity makes him as powerful as he is. All boundaries that are normally imposed by the mind are gone in that guy. He can push his body to the limits and beyond. And if you keep training by overstraining yourself the body gets used to it after a while. He’s faster, stronger and more flexible than any human could ever hope to be. That’s also the reason the Keepers refrained from arming him, they’re afraid.’
Inwardly I consider the wisdom of that. Even though Raven and Wolf aren’t the best of friends neither of them are stupid enough to let someone they can’t truly control run amok. It must be one of the few things they agree upon.
‘Ah look! We’re here.’
An ancient building rises up over the trees. I recognise it instantly. One of the first decisions the Keepers made was to eliminate religion. The goal of world peace could never be attained if radical differences remained at the basis of society. The cathedral stood in the middle of nowhere. All religious markings on it were defaced. Every once in a while someone would wander out here by chance and they would simply pass by the giant building and think nothing of it. The markings were unknown to the populace. But that isn’t the reason this building is familiar to me. The reason for that is that this was the place where it had begun. Inside these walls I tasted my own blood at the hands of Cat. Starting with the events after that first duel things quickly spiralled out of control and now I’m being called back here in the name of Callus Deadman.

I swing open the door and imagine seeing the slow light of the full moon stream inward. The weapons factory that used to be installed within is all but gone. A few of the large machines that produce finely tuned machinery still remain. I think Deadman didn’t want to let go of everything or still had a use for some of the equipment. As my eyes slowly get used to the lack of lighting I take in the new innards of the construction. The entire building has been turned into a series of printing presses and paper mills. Reluctantly I walk forwards at Hawk’s bidding. Around me the dark recesses of the building slowly start to lift, revealing the workers and their leader. Hawk halts and gestures me towards Deadman. I smile faintly and move on.
‘So you finally made it?’ I nod in reply.
‘Still sure of your decision Master Stalker?’ The look in Deadman’s eyes shows me he’s joking. I steal past him and pick up one of the books lying on the table beyond.
‘Corsair Syndicate.’ I intone softly, reading up the words enamelled in gold on the cover. Beneath the lettering there’s a double ring. An ideogram depicting both the planet, with its shell around it, and the Keepers, hiding amongst their kin, a people within the people, an inner circle. Everything that’s been happening these last weeks suddenly falls into place. I’ve been manipulated from both sides. At one hand the Keepers had recreated my mind to make me do their bidding, at the other Deadman had been distilling my thoughts into a book that would expose the Keepers. Worst of all, I realise I’ve no intention of stopping either of them.
‘Inside this work the truth lay. Do you think anybody will believe it?’ I hear myself say, trying to play along.
‘The book doesn’t need to be believed. In fact I don’t think anybody will believe it. All this book needs to do is sow the seeds of doubt over the world. Doubt is the first step towards denial and objection. “The truth” can’t be divulged quite so easily as one can say he lied about paying for a bar of candy last week.’ As Deadman elaborates I pocket the book in my coat jacket. The garb was designed to hold pretty large weapons so the book fits easily.
‘I’ll make sure the Guardians won’t find out this book exists for at least a month. Beyond that there is little I can do.’ I say, looking Deadman in the eyes, hoping to find a glint of surprise.
‘You have already done enough.’ I nod and turn around, make my way back toward the door.
‘I will be seeing you around Mr. Deadman.’ I declare as I pass under the arch outward.
‘No you won’t Mr. Listener.’ I hear Deadman whisper behind me with a strangely shaking voice.


It didn’t take the group long to meld together into one. After all they had both made the same mistake, both ended up with a casualty because of it. Shill’s commanding presence also helped the men focus on the matter at hand and if it were up to him they’d either be busy or dead in the next few days. The lieutenant now had twelve men under his command and he wasn’t going to waste it. After a quick examination of the map, aided by the observations of those present, the group decided to move out. The shootout on the street had ended half an hour ago.
‘You three got point. The two of you keep tabs on the rear. The rest: be on your guard!’ Of course Shill knew there’d still be enmity among the two groups that were no moving out under his command but he was not going to let them have time enough to worry about differences or past mistakes, no matter how grave they might have been. Their mission was clear and simple. Find Cholin. There was only one location outside Black Wing field of vision he could have gone and that was the meeting place he’d reported about in his last communiqué.
The group made steady headway through the undoubtedly dangerous territory. Inside Shill’s mind the question about how so large a group could end up together burned a hole the size of a coconut but he would resist the urge to utter it. Morale in this group wasn’t very high as it was, Shill wasn’t going to undermine his own authority by making his own men nervous about him. Leaving them wondering if he didn’t trust them enough. Most operatives considered Shill very lowly but they all respected him, that fragile equilibrium couldn’t be allowed to break.
‘Sir, we got movement up ahead.’
‘Halt movement, change comm. frequency and hold your fire. Let’s see what they’re up to.’ Shill announced coldly through his headset followed quickly by a few muttered curses as he let go of the transmission switch.
A block further two men squared off opposite to one another in the middle of the street.

‘Unit 893?’ Wrathbringer asked.
His opponent’s answer was not one of words. He shot forward towards the biggest of the keepers and brought his fist down upon the Wrathbringer’s jaw. With a speed belying his gigantic proportions Wrathbringer swung an arm up and slapped the attack away. The moment the two limbs contacted one another a static charge leapt through the air around them. Surprised, Wrathbringer hopped backward heavily. The large man fought with a style best befitting his relatively slow physique, making as few moves as possible and trying to lure the enemy into a position where muscles made all the difference. Faking the dumb brute routine Wrathbringer shook his head and grunted just before launching himself forward towards Lizard.
Lizard was one of Deadman’s favoured warriors and had received a bit of the Shell-technology Deadman had managed to replicate over the years. Lizard’s body worked with enhanced nerves and a spinal cord designed like a capacitor. Whenever he moved a part of the kinetic energy was turned into electricity and stored. To go with this was a harness of loose wires plugged into the spine, which allowed him to direct the energies when he needed it most. As a consequence Lizard had, like his namesake, something of a cold-blooded nature to him. He loved to bathe in the sun and let his capacitor charge up, the graft in his spine worked like a sort of drug, with electrical energies soaring Lizard felt liberated from the world and could perform feats that no other man could through magnetism and electric charge.
Lizard might have become lazy in his personal life but on the field of battle he was exceptionally dangerous. Between the moment of Wrathbringer starting his feint and wanting to diverge magnetic power had already launched Lizard overhead, leaving a black contorted scar on the ground where he had stood. Wrathbringer halted and checked the area around him. Noticing the Black Wing operatives in their elaborately designed camouflage suits Wrathbringer concluded that Lizard was indeed gone.


‘There it is.’ Tset was by now as curious as Silencer, if not more so, about Deadman’s demise or no.
‘Lead on.’
Cautiously the two approached their target, an old warehouse, through a number of ruins that lay around it. As a member of the Black Wing Tset had legal access to the intelligence building but with all the fighting that had been going on he reckoned they’d open fire before they started asking questions. Silencer understood the situation without the need for any explanation, the same had happened when he’d entered town hall.
Tset knocked on one of the side doors in a complex and long pattern. After completing the third cycle the door opened and the barrel of a gun came sticking out through a tiny crack.
‘Tset?’
Without making a sound Tset nodded and opened the door further.
‘Who’s this?’
Tset stopped dead in his tracks. Silencer opened his hands as a sign of truce and slowly reached into his left coat pocket. Time seemed to freeze for a moment for Tset, he hadn’t even remembered telling his partner to sit back and wait for his return. He couldn’t even breathe as he waited for one of the black guns to appear, which it promptly didn’t. Silencer pulled out a Black Wing ID and handed it to Tset without a single trace of doubt. Baffled, Tset handed the plastic card to his old friend that had been stationed here just before the fighting started.
‘You’re clear Mr. Xanstin.’ The man whispered after he’d pulled the ID through a small device designed to read the unique electronic key that was stored in each and every one of the shards of plastic.
‘Of course I am.’ Silencer said with a flamboyant smile as he pushed past Tset, took his ID, and followed the man into the bowels of the warehouse.
‘I’m sorry about that Lt. Xanstin, it’s just this war that’s been going on overhead, it’s making…’
‘No need to apologise, please. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep my rank a secret in here, I don’t want to be rousing the whole place into an uproar.’
‘Yes sir! By the way, you can call me Spike.’ Silencer took the hand proffered to him. ‘Ever since a little electrical incident everyone has been calling me that, and personally I think it has a certain amount of flair.’

Spike was dressed in a simple overall, just like the other fifteen men that worked at the place. Most of them were only there to keep up the facade, only three actually had access to the lower complex that hid a number of powerful dataprocessors, as they were affectionately known.
‘Is there anything in particular you’re looking for Mr…’
‘Silencer, I’ve grown attached to my codename.’ Spike nodded. ‘As a matter of fact there is. Ever since the news of Deadman’s death was spread everybody’s been rather euphoric. Too euphoric in fact to actually check the veracity of said nugget of information. I’m here to get proof, one way, or another.’
Spike turned around, Silencer halted and Tset slammed into his back. The old, slightly chubby, greying man was visibly shaken. As Tset gathered his wits together Silencer shook his head.
‘Well, you see…’ Spike was staring at the ground. ‘Shill was given full authority and autonomy to handle the situation in this area, and he… well…’
Silencer put a hand on Spike’s shoulder. ‘In your own time.’ He said encouragingly.
Spike forced his eyes to look into Silencer’s, it was obvious he was having a hard time but he also knew the cat was already out of the bag and he wouldn’t be able to catch it. Unless he were to kill both Silencer and Tset. The latter was already a near impossibility, the former would pose an even bigger challenge.
‘Shill let the rumour turn into a fact to grab personal gain. Most believe it was actually Artan’s, his aide’s, idea, but that’s beside the point. Fact is that Shill gave the word. There are also a number of special task forces out there trying to get a lead on Deadman. Shill’s confident he can rectify the situation before things leak out. The intelligence posts, which include us here, were ordered to keep it under our hats. I… I’ve ignored orders, I didn’t…’ Spike stopped as Silencer squeezed his shoulder.
‘I won’t tell anyone, I’m just here to observe. I’ve chosen Tset here as my accomplice, so to say, because he was already beyond Shill’s control. You needn’t worry, you’ve done the right thing.’
Silencer lifted his hand from Spike’s shoulder and turned to Tset who was visibly unsettled by the fact their search had ended so soon. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be shoved aside and left in an alley with a series of rather painful stabwounds through his limbs.
‘Well that was quick.’ Silencer said merrily. ‘It seems your recruition has just become the first point of business on my agenda.’


The cold had its arms wrapped tightly around me shoulders. Inside my skull a mindnumbing buzzing resounded. Before me shadows were tumbling over one another. A flicker of light caused my eyes to sting with pain. It wasn’t a flicker of light. So cold. It was me. I had tried to open my eyes. The shadows enveloped each other. The vague flame of a semblance of light became more and more blurred at the edge of my sight as the shadow became larger and larger. The world tumbled, the cold, cold world. I felt myself jerk aside. Was it me? Had I moved by my own accord? I couldn’t feel anything. Anything and everything was beyond me, space, it felt like floating in space. The nearly starless space I’d seen in the Shell. Time and time again, that starless space had come to me and now it came to me still. My veins, the whole of me, felt as cold as ice. I couldn’t even shiver. I slowly… something… I don’t know what. The shadow became smaller again. The ice in my veins melted, I became warmer. It felt so pleasant. Sleep came to me, I could feel him walking up to the base of my skull and rush his full strength down to the tips of my toes, working it’s way back up from there. Why was it so elaborate, so weird, so cold, so warm, like so? Why was it at all? I felt calm yet my mind was still affronted by it all. Something was wrong, someone wasn’t me. I was…
‘I’m not me? I’ll not be me!’
I convulsed, felt the last bits of sustenance that was being infused into me slide down my body. Like warm, thick soup it slithered downward, gruellingly, deliciously. Then it came again. Sleep once more settled itself into my mind. Like a hydra it started to bite chunks out of me from all sides. A part of me that didn’t feel like me was being ripped away. A part of me that was me tried to hold on for dear sweet salvation, trying to batter away the beast that was slowly nibbling it’s way through me.
‘I’m vanishing…’Alas, I was lost. ‘Me… I… Myself…’ I was here, not gone, not dead, not vanished, ‘here!’
My protesting limb finally answered the call and crashed forward. I opened my eyes and felt water flowing over them. The world slowly revealed itself before me. Red lights were flashing everywhere. Metal was… walking? I stared into a lens, the makeshift eyes of a machine. The surroundings of the looking-glass-machine shivered into existence around me. All metal, all reflective, all living? The machine in front of me raised what could only be an arm and clamped itself onto me. The next moment I was flying through the air, numb, powerless, confused, done for, all but dead.
----------
Yep, for those who've read the previous installment, we've crossed over to things I hadn't imagined before I ended Corsair Syndicate. If you wre to compare the epilogue of that one to the bit in this chapter you'll notice the exact same things happen they're only told from the other point of view, something I enjoyed writing by the way.

Next chappy: Nine (Deadman)

[Death in a tattered red c]

your descriptions are well written. I can almost draw the scenes.... ? Hmm? I just might.

anyway... nice write, so far. can't wait for the next peice.

[Kabobward]

Things have picked up rather quickly. It was a solid chapter.

[Radical Ed]

woooowwwww... *yawwwwwnnn* I'm sleepy. Two chapters in one day can really drain you.

Anyways... Looks like this is moving into more of the plot, but I don't foresee explanations to some of the more imposing questions coming any time soon, so I'll sit here patiently and see what happens.

*ack* and I noticed some grammar mistakes, but only a couple... not enough to go over with a magnifying glass and a scrupulating eye, ne?

[Vortigar]

I finally get readers.... and then I bail out for three weeks. Sorry, sorry, sorry, it's nothing to do with lack of gratitude. Schedule's been a ***** as of late.

Thanks for the read and the compliments, I've little further to add so:
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Chapter Nine (Deadman)

‘Who the heck is this?’ Shill asked the world in general as he ducked back into cover.
Wrathbringer dusted himself down thoroughly, seemingly casual, oblivious to the Black Wing presence. Staring straight over the agents the big man straightened his jacket and set out forwards. Shill quickly assessed his options and decided on the most prudent course of action given the situation. It was hardly the wisest decision he’d ever take in his life. With a quick glance at the Wrathbringer he gave the sign to attack.
Fire scoured the area as ten men leapt out of cover firing their weapons in the pre-drilled pattern dictated by their current formation. Undeterred Wrathbringer strode forwards, every single bullet seemingly missing its target. Shill himself shot up from his hiding place and aligned his elongated pistol at the large man’s cranium. As he saw Shill appear Wrathbringer smiled and halted his advance. The moment Shill fired Wrathbringer’s hand vanished into his right jacket pocket. Slowly Shill lowered his weapon credulously as his opponent pulled out a pistol, a Black Wing standard issue weapon. Wrathbringer’s smile disappeared. He tossed the weapon at Shill. Bewildered the Black Wing lieutenant caught the weapon and stared at it dumbly.
‘Unit 893’ Wrathbringer intoned before slowly pacing away from the scene.
Every member of the unit was dumbstruck, too stunned to take even a measure of action. As one they lowered their weapons as the large man before them turned around a corner and vanished into a slight alley. They turned their eyes to Shill who was closely examining the weapon in his hands. It took him some time to remember that every one of these weapons was stamped to fit a certain hand. Eagerly he screwed off the barrel and stared at the top of the support that ran underneath the carefully weighted rifling.
‘Cholin,’ Shill managed to produce, reading the name out loud, ‘what have you stumbled across?’

‘Well, can you answer the question?’ Deadman asked Cholin.
The two of them were sitting in a small room across the street.
‘Well?!’ Deadman continued harshly.
Cholin stared at the crimelord before him, in the lower corner of his eyes he could see the gag that was stuffed in his mouth. The fallen Keeper looked back tersely at the comm. runner.
‘And I was thinking you guys were the toughest among the Black Wing. It didn’t take you any time at all to start talking to me…’ A momentary silence followed as Deadman pretended to hear Cholin speak. ‘So that’s the reason? To be honest I don’t care one bit.’
Spinning a keychain on the end of his right index finger Deadman rose from the floor.
‘I really must thank Wrathbringer for handing over that gun that I’d stolen from you and Lizard “accidentally” dropped. Especially the extravagant way he used to do it helped my cause to no extent.’
Cholin didn’t try to wriggle free as Deadman turned his eyes away from him. It was of no use, he’d learnt that lesson not too long ago when Deadman had left him for quite some time to do the sky may know what.
‘I’m after publicity you see. I’ve a message for the world and I want everybody hanging at the end of my tongue when the time comes to let it run free. They’ve bound themselves for way too long, it’s time humanity saw its chains and struck at them with the hammer at hand.’
Silently and unmoving Cholin weighed the words inside his head, hoping to figure out what exactly was to be revealed.
‘It didn’t seem to me that Wrathbringer was that stupid when we first met. I guess I must’ve been wrong. But that’s beside the point, the point is that you, my silent lamb, are also part of my reach for the stage. There is no way you can hide the facts from your superiors now, even if you were never to reach them alive again you’d still be a message. I wonder how the Black Wing’d react, they have the resources and the right positioning to strike right now. This is going to be most interesting…’
‘Yes it will!’
Deadman spun around, pulled out the grip of his switchblade and found himself staring directly into Nathaniel Reaper’s eyes. In the black man’s hands was a half metre long metal cane. The thing didn’t look dangerous but Deadman knew what the metal rod could become and he wasn’t looking forward to facing it again.


‘Before I introduce you, I’ll need to check a few things. You sit tight and don’t even think about running.’
Right now Tset had no intention of following either order. Corsair grounds were far from the safest place to be. Though sporadic the fights that were still going on hadn’t become less fierce. The elite troops of the K4.11 syndicate and the Cult of Felius were not to be messed with on a good day, and this was far less than a good day. Tset had spotted elements of both aforementioned organisations during his swift trek through Corsair territory after Silencer’s tail. For the moment he would obey Silencer though, he was too cramped and tired to move an inch anyway. He guessed that’d been the entire point of the exercise in the first place. There was no doubt in Tset’s mind that Silencer had in fact thought of that. More than once the Keeper had reminded the Black Wing agent that he emphasised technique, style and cunning over any other disciplines in combat. As far as that went Tset had no choice but to agree with him. The two of them acted and thought in a like way but the Silencer always seemed to be just that little step ahead, unless that would end up being an illusion too of course.

‘Now where did they all go?’ Silencer asked.
The computer gave no answer. Not immediately at least, or verbally for that matter. It just sat there, enclosed within the wall, letting its silvery skin reflect non-existing light. Sad really. This all went through Silencer’s mind as he made his way through computer files and data reports with not even close to a tenth of the speed with which he could make his way through a battalion of K4.11 guards. The age of information had never seemed like a very interesting topic to Silencer, not interesting enough for any kind of research. In fact Silencer was pretty sure he was the least educated of all of the Keepers on said subject, as long as you didn’t count Lunatic. Time was growing short, way too short. On the other hand Silencer needed his message to come in the exactly right way for it to have any footing at all among the other Keepers. Seen in that light Silencer’d choose a later point in time rather than a sooner one, things were still too jumbled right now to drop a bomb on the Keepers like this.
‘Deadman, what stunt have you pulled this time? You’re dead and alive at the same time?’ Silencer asked as another report flashed up on the screen. With another quick check he noted the time.
‘That’s a couple of minutes ago!’
Silencer got up. The chair clattered to the floor behind him. The soundproofed walls of the Shell instantly muffled any sound issuing forth from this. With superhuman speed Silencer sped his way back the path he came and transported himself back to the surface of the planet. Only thirty seconds later he stood in front of Tset again.
‘Am I going in now?’ The Black Wing agent asked.
And without answering the question Silencer raced on leaving a bedraggled Tset to try and follow his far too fast pace towards Deadman’s last known location.


I halt in the middle of the forest surrounding the cathedral. Behind me I can feel them watching me. They’re curious, these people of Unit 893, Hawk most of all. They’re curious about me, my motives, about the technology in Deadman’s possession. But most of all they are curious about Deadman himself. It didn’t take me long to figure out why Hawk was in league with the traitorous Keeper. Hawk’s a man that wants to be ahead of the game. The way he approached me, twice now, has shown me that. He’s afraid to let somebody else take over a conversation let alone a life. And that’s exactly how Deadman works. Without a hint of trouble or exertion lives are spun around a coil of Deadman’s design, woven into his fanciful pattern. Hawk desires it. He desires it above all else. And that is why he’s standing right behind me now, a shipload of question burning in the back of his throat. I smile and turn around.
‘If I had waited any longer something might just singe its way through your neck outward.’
Hawk looks at me in astonishment. A hint of compassion for the man he thinks insane lines his eyebrows.
‘Come on, spit it out.’ I continue, acting as unperturbed as possible.
‘What do you mean?’ He finally manages to squeeze through a tight slit between his lips.
‘You’re after his secret as well aren’t you?’ I lean forward to imply a sense of conspiracy.
Hawk dodges backward. He’s lost control of the situation and he doesn’t like it one bit.
‘Why else would you bother to be Deadman’s lapdog, you’re far too smart for this kind of errand running.’
The look in Hawk’s eyes tells me I’m on the right track. A lot of details probably differ from the idea settling in my mind, but the general gist can’t be very far off. I straighten myself out again, both to let him recover as well as letting the microphones that are undoubtedly in the area take a good whiff of my words.
‘I see. Well, at least one of us isn’t planning of betraying him then.’
Hawk glances over his shoulder, his face tinted red. He knows they are watching and listening. I know too. The only difference is, he has a reputation to uphold, something important on the line. I’m just in it for a laugh and the possible info. If Hawk really was a smart guy he’d have let me be and dismissed me as some whackjob trying to bring the world into words of simple logic.
‘I don’t know what you’re playing at but it’s not going to work.’ He replies.
‘So you do have something to hide?’
And that’s where my go at him ends as he lashes forward, his hands targeted at my throat.

I slip backward beyond his reach, but only for a moment. Grabbing his arm I draw him in and fling him over my shoulder to the floor. As I feel his body impacting the soft grass I also hear the air escaping his lungs in a dull puff. Without having to worry about any further attempt against me I smash my fist across his jaw. Something breaks in the process. Weirdly enough my hand doesn’t ache all that much, the Keepers must’ve done even more with me than I had imagined.
As I stand wondering at the feeling Hawk recovers himself. My legs fly out from under my body. In mid-air I twist my body so I can roll back to my feet after the fall. During the roll however Hawk lashes out at me with his right leg, sending me sprawling over the ground.
‘Why?’ He screams more than asks.
I push myself off the ground with my arms and place my feet back underneath my body. I take up a fighting stance and answer his question.
‘Because I’ve had it with this ****.’ My voice is far calmer than I had originally planned, taking both him and me off-guard.
Hawk is the first to recover of us two and I find myself warding off a series of blows to the body. I spin backward and fling my leg around to the left. Too slow, I realise too late as Hawk grabs hold of my leg and sweeps my standing leg out from under me once more. I react by setting myself down on my hands and spinning my previously standing leg around, forcing Hawk to let go of my other leg and block the attack, consequently leaving me the leeway to get back on my feet.
‘Shit?’ Hawk asks dumbfounded.
I wipe the dirt from my hands and set myself down in a proper posture again. I’ve been pushed around by too many people for too long. Along the way I’ve even noticed I can’t act against most of the pushers. The only exception so far is Hawk, and I’m having a hell of a day having a go at him. Of course I don’t say it. I just attack once more.


The world around me has changed. I caught myself thinking as the robot that had plucked me from my cell finished patching me up and heating my body. Feeling slowly returned to my body. The android moved backward, moving by some means unknown to me, floating over the floor, or maybe suspended from the ceiling. I didn’t care really, I needed to get my bearings again. The moment the android finally halted its movement and seemed to go into idle mode I dared turn my head and look around the room. Undoubtedly a medical facility of some kind. Around me there were a number of tubes, all empty, one of them had broken glass. That one must’ve been mine then until not all too long ago. Besides the tubes there were a number of androids, all of different design, all looking cold and nasty with multiple arms attached at inhuman locations all over the body.
I raised my head off the table I was lying on and felt dizzy. I halted my effort, waited a minute and tried again, this time slowly. The world straightened itself out before me. There was only one way out of the room, a small room to my left. I decided it had to be an elevator. With the most tiresome of effort I plucked myself off the table and stumbled towards the chamber. I indeed found a control panel with numbered buttons, only three luckily. My options were zero, minus one, or minus two, my answer was simple: zero, what I imagined would be ground floor and the way out. I sunk through my weakened legs and saw the doors close before me. The movement I felt was upward, probably two floors. I wondered what the other floor would be but quickly ascertained that I was not in the position, mental or physical, to be curious and start investigating.
The last thing I remembered before waking up in that frozen cylinder was standing behind Felt Tormentor. My sword raised above my head, not able to protect me. Tormentor spun around and flicked his wrist towards me as I had seen him do when Delver’s head had rotated half circle on his neck. Why hadn’t I died?
The doors opened before me, but only a little. I passed through the small opening and found myself stepping out of a broom closet underneath the stairs near the door of a house that looked decidedly casual, normal even. It felt as if a family had just fled the premises and left the place as is for any squatters that would show up.
Holding myself up on my feet by leaning on the walls I passed through the living room into the kitchen, the place was entirely deserted. All the cabinets in the kitchen were filled to capacity, good.

My muscles had started working better and better over the last hour. The time had come for me to leave. I was dressed in a simple pair of trousers with a blouse and jacket over it, all of which I’d dug up out of the closet in one of the bedrooms. The kitchen had provided me with a flood of nourishment, I’d felt starved. It was just then, when I was all good and ready and ready to leave that the front door opened. I hadn’t even tried the front door, maybe it had even been locked. I threw myself down on the ground behind the couch, leaving me a view of the niche under the stairs. I peered through the dust under the couch and saw a pair of perfect black shoes stop before the niche. Whoever it was hadn’t even noticed that the door to the living room was open behind him. I thanked the world that he didn’t take a look in the kitchen. The elevator door opened, the man stamped into the small chamber, muttering heavily under his voice, could he have noticed something then? The doors closed and the elevator set off downward.
I sped out of my hiding place and out the door. In front of me stood a car void of driver or passengers. The entire street was empty. The architecture denoted I was no longer within Corsair territory, which had been my last known location besides the Shell, where I'd died. I got into the car and found a switchblade lying on the seat beside me. I recognised it instantly, it was a whipblade, and not one of those cheap imitations I’d been trudging around with for so long.
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next chapter
Ten (Reaper)
We can all see what this chappy's main feature will be, now I hope I can come up with an interesting way to describe it...

[Radical Ed]

you might wanna review that chapter, I saw more than a few grammatic errors. Nothing so horrible that it can interfere with intent or understanding, but sentence structure somewhat faltered sometimes. Other than that, I really liked it... It looks as though the plot is developing more, like you're trying to give us a stronger idea of your intent.

One last thing. Who were those last two paragraphs about? You tend to only use first person for one character, but two distinct characters had it this time. Or did I get lost?

[Vortigar]

Ed: You may have noticed that one of these first persons is moving about in present time while the other is acting in past tense. It's all happening at the same moment mind you but that alone should be an indicator they're different people... and to lift a little tip, you're going to get a name in this chapter...

hmmm, it seems my other readers have let me down this time around. I'm pretty sure it's because the last chapter was drowned under a ton of new ficage. Gosh I don't think Corsair has been this low on the list of threads before... -_-
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Chapter Ten (Reaper)

‘What escapes me is why you would be so stupid to show up so soon.’ Reaper states, circling to the left as he does so.
‘The events around us are not all in my hand, I’m not as great or supreme as you think me to be Nathaniel Reaper.’ Deadman followed Reaper’s movement around the room.
Cholin, sitting in a dark corner of the cluttered and damp room mentally recorded Reaper’s full name, recognising the Keeper from the picture that had started out the escapade that had led him here. Deadman switched his grip upon the cylinder in his hand and a metre long sword shoots from the switchblade’s hilt, clicking together with a sixfold sound.
‘Let’s see if those pretty tricks of yours actually measure up to something.’ Reaper laughed.
Deadman’s reply was curt and simple, a single dash forward, blade aimed at the opponent’s face. The metal cane in Reaper’s hands met the sword, deflecting the blow. Deadman immediately followed up, knowing full well that backing away from Reaper is a virtual death sentence. The second blow also landed upon the small cane. Reaper’s face hardened. The small metal cane came apart. Both parts sprouted a blade at the end, green, translucent. Reaper slashed Deadman’s blade away and lashed out with his left leg, catching Deadman in the lower ribs.
‘Don’t get cocky or flashy with me Deadman, you haven’t the skills for smart stunts!’ Reaper stated disdainfully.
Deadman shook his head in response and filled his lungs with air again. The two backed away from each other slowly and stared at one another. Cholin had no choice but to observe the two becoming as statues. The Black Wing agent hadn’t even been able to follow the exchange, but he guessed this Reaper had Deadman outclassed.


I didn’t see where it had come from but it’s presence is all too real. Hawk and I both dive after the gun that’s lying in the grass beside us. Both of us carry weapons of course but hidden in such a way that drawing them is no easy feat when another is on top of you. It doesn’t matter. Fact is that he drew a weapon. I was merely after a tad of intelligence and maybe a good scrap to vent some frustration, now that a gun has showed up intentions change drastically. Hawk is the first to reach the weapon. I have no time to do anything more than grab his wrist. The both of us struggle up against each other and find ourselves up on our knees. The world around us spins out of existence, the only scenery that remains is that what we feel. I’m remembered of said scenery the moment we drop sideways to the ground again and a sharp rock bites into my side. The flaring pain causes me to let go. Hawk darts up from the ground and casually stands over me, I’m lying face down in the grass, every single green blade intently recognisable.
‘Thought you could simply put me down, huh?’ Hawk asks menacingly, stupidly. ‘I don’t like it when people draw guns on me in the middle of a brawl, no matter the odds or reasons. It just isn’t done!’
I realise that what he says can only make sense if he didn’t draw the gun himself, but it was a silver weapon, I only have black ones. In my hand I can feel what I’d been looking for during Hawk’s speech.
‘Well?’ He inquires impotently.
I flip open the glasses and feel more than see the world disappear around me. Hawk will fire shortly I know, but there’s very little chance he’ll hit my head or hands in the dark, the rest of me is protected by a force suit. As I jerk aside I indeed hear and feel a shot being loosed. It’s aimed towards somewhere on the right half of my back, the force suit tightens and projects a field that halts the bullet’s movement. The piece of metal drops idly onto my back. I flip myself onto my back and scissor my legs around his left. Hawk hits the ground with a gratifying thud. I put the glasses on. A simple green park is revealed around me. I look downward and spot the gun in Hawk's right hand. He’s trying to raise it, but has no idea where he should aim. Last time he was in this situation he was wearing a pair of nightsights.
‘No such luck this time birdy.’ I hear myself intone in surprise.
I slam down my right heel on his wrists and shove the gun away. A moment later I’m on my feet and pull out one of my own pistols as I turn the glasses off.
‘If the gun wasn’t yours we have a problem. Too bad I’m not much of a teamplayer.’ I say just before I pull the trigger and see a splatter of gobbets and blood form a star under Hawk’s head. What have I done?!


‘Come on Deadman!’ Reaper outs re-attaching the two halves of his cane again with a quick twist.
Deadman didn’t reply, he merely inclined his head, concentration could be read from his eyes if one was there to look at them from the ground up. Deadman’s feet crept away from one another as he formed the standard pose of his art, Bujutsu. Across the room Reaper stretched himself out and shook the tension out of his legs. Deadman’s eyes met those of his enemy. Reaper instantly recognised the explosive power in them, the original reason of Deadman’s recruition, a diplomatic or threatening role, not the warrior’s path. In that way the two of them were the same. Reaper had originally been taken on under a different name for his connections and insight. Only when he’d started showing potential with the odd weapon he’d chosen did the Keepers name him Reaper. His main role was still the judging of character. If only Raven had let him in on the matter when he’d recruited Deadman and Tormentor. So many problems could have been avoided. Reaper often wondered why he defended Raven from Wolf. Insight in others was definitely something different than insight in one’s own self. Introspection was Wrathbringer’s strong suit, not Reaper’s. And where were they now?
Deadman darted forward nimbly. Reaper, unprepared for this mode of attack hopped aside and switched his grip on his cane, the device lengthened to two metres in an instant, a single blazing blade coming to life at the top end, pointing directly at Deadman. With a slight jerk Deadman’s sword decoupled, turned into a whip, and shot towards Reaper. With trained perfection Reaper aligned the staff of his scythe along the whip’s path and withdrew his fingers from the beleaguered side of it. Deadman reacted by pulling the whip into a sword again and plunging it down behind the staff. The scythe fell apart in two once again and Reaper blocked the latest attack with the lower half of the staff, inches before his chest the sword stopped its progress. Reaper locked the sword between the two small staves and twisted it away from Deadman, forcing him to draw his blade back or lose it. As Reaper had suspected Deadman chose the former of the two options, allowing him to form a single staff again and slashing it across the room in a wide arc. With his sword at an awkward angle Deadman had no choice but to dodge the attack, his arm didn’t quite make it though and a long gash opened up from hand to shoulder, the force suit unable to block the laser blade of Reaper’s scythe.
Deadman leapt back to where he’d come from before the attack and looked at his left hand for a moment. Blood dripped to the floor. Deadman’s suit stuck wetly to the blood running along his arm, both covering the flesh and staunching the flow. For a moment a surprised expression shot across Deadman’s face as he looked at the palm of his hand, it was shortly replaced by a smile.


The car drove as good as it looked. A pity really, that I had to dump it in the river now. I simply couldn’t afford anyone recognising it, who knows what weird situations could occur. The trunk had ended up being a true cache of valuables. A pistol of rugged and simple construction, a pair of sub-machine guns, but best of all, a black suit like I’d seen Deadman wearing when we met that day at the mercenary HQ. The other guy had also been wearing one that day, what was his name? Reaper, that was it. Things weren’t adding up, least of all myself. My last memory had been of dying, I couldn’t have survived, I could remember with painstaking clarity the snap of my five uppermost vertebrae. Who could’ve revived me? Who’d wanted to revive me? Only the last question I could answer. Gorgon, Rat, Tormentor, but I knew for sure that at least one, if not all of them were dead. My mind was so clear now. I could recall everything so vividly. Whoever had allowed me to walk again had changed far more than just my health.
‘And who might you be?’ A stranger‘s voice asked.
A man stepped out from one of the warehouses and placed himself directly in my path. He possessed a curious posture, hunched slightly, as if carrying a great burden on his back.
‘You can’t just dump the boss’s car in the water like that, he was very fond of that machine you see.’
The man steps forward threateningly, I draw out the switchblade.
‘Ha! And you think that’s going to help you?’ He continues walking towards me, I decide to meet him halfway, I don’t want to be fighting with just a couple of metres of dock behind me before I have to plunge into the water.
‘There aren’t a lot of people that know how to use one of those you know.’
I don’t react to his words, I want to see if he’s bluffing or not. The thought occurs to me that he has no idea of who I am.
‘Simple car thieves…’ And now I’m certain he doesn’t know. ‘…lack the skills to go up against the likes of us.’
His words start sounding less and less sure as we keep closing and he notices I’m not impressed at all.
‘You have no idea what you’re dealing with.’ He intones at a couple of metres distance.
‘No you’re wrong there.’ I stated dryly.
He stopped dead in his tracks. I didn’t. I raced forward and extended the switchblade through his guts. I’m staring over his shoulder and see a blot of blood and oil shoot out of the man’s back, crashing to the floor loudly with a wet thump.
‘You have no idea what you’re dealing with.’ I continued, intoning it in the exact same way he did.
‘You’re… the sleeper… the… K…K…’ His sentence ended with a gurgle and the sickening sound of him sliding down my blade, widening the hole to his chest, bowels spilling out messily.
‘The Cat.’ I completed his dying words as he slumped backward unto the ground.
So he did have an idea of who I might be.


‘What’s so funny Callus?’ Reaper’s cold voice sliced through the awkward silence, there wasn’t a hint of annoyance in his voice, of any emotion at all.
Cholin hadn’t dared to move all this time and his body had started to ache. He was taken by the events before him too much to notice though. The next day would bring him an incredibly sore body.
Reaper took his staff in one hand and pointed it directly away from Deadman, the other hand open before him, as if he was going to ward off blows with it. His opposite number took up the same fighting stance as before, blood running through his fist as he held the sword tight in both his hands. Cholin felt a drop of sweat running down his forehead. The little drop started a chain reaction and within moments Cholin’s shirt clung to his body like glue. The two Keepers on the other hand didn’t seem perturbed at all. Deadman’s face even sported a sly smile, as if he were enjoying this.
‘Well?’ Callus Deadman asked, triggering Reaper to blast towards him.
Deadman raised his blade before him, aiming for Reaper’s hand, planning to follow through to the head. It wasn’t going to be. Reaper held his advance and let the staff shoot forward behind his back. His open hand reached back and grabbed the metal contraption, using the momentum to fling it across the room in a vicious arc. Cholin’s nails dug into the floor as the blade of the scythe came into being just above his head, sliding effortlessly into and through the wall above him. Deadman ducked back, half-deflecting and half-dodging Reaper’s attack. Reaper wasn’t done yet though as he slid the staff through his hands once more, the blade of the scythe switching off on one end and coming to life on the other. Deadman shot backward against the wall, the scythe rushed scant inches past his throat. Cholin let out a yelp as Reaper halted the blade of his weapon right in front of his face. The blade of the scythe gave off a slight amount of light, revealing Cholin’s face in the shadows. Reaper stared down the length of his staff, a slightly surprised expression on his face.
Deadman didn’t think for a second and launched himself forward. His opponent was not as off guard as he had hoped though. Reaper swung the scythe back the other way, the blade once more switching from one end to the other on the staff. Deadman freed his right hand from his sword and reached into his pocket, leaving his left to block Reaper’s counter. Cholin hadn’t been able to follow much of the fight because of the incredible speed both men had portrayed, but this moment printed itself clearly into his mind. Deadman pulled out a small pistol. Reaper was left no other option but to knee Deadman in the gut, he draw neither end of his staff forward fast enough. The small pistol discharged with a dull pop.
Reaper went down on one knee as the shell dug itself through his suit and into his lower leg. His eyes flared open wide as the pain reached his brain, triggering implanted systems to shut down parts of the perceptive core of the mind. Deadman, slightly dizzy from the blow to his stomach toppled forward over Reaper and found the rear end of the staff racing towards his throat. The blade on that end sprung into life just as the metal crushed Deadman’s windpipe, allowing a small painful gurgle to escape Deadman’s mouth before his head parted from his body. Reaper crumbled under the weight upon him and crashed to the floor, bright red blood flowing from his leg.

Cholin wanted to get up and run but found himself pinned to the spot. Reaper lay on the floor, twisted in an inhuman angle as he had broken a few of his ribs to be able to decapitate his opponent. That opponent lay spread-eagled over the old Keeper, his left hand in the air, still holding the sword that was slowly sinking into the floor. The determination of these two men to kill one another had baffled Cholin, he could do nothing but admire these two warriors.
‘Now what’s wrong with this picture?’ Silencer asked Tset as the Black Wing agent appeared in the door opening, his mouth hanging wide open, panting.
‘There’s… ah… no… ah… no…’
‘No blood, very good. I think you’re getting the hang of the world in which we live.’ Silencer smiled as a he said this. ‘Don’t consider the fact that these two have had company from an onlooker in the shadow but go directly for the far more obscure and intriguing matter.’
Cholin stared at the man who’d been observing from the moment Deadman had fired his weapon. Silencer had entered without alarming Cholin. The Cholin who had always prized his perceptive skills, who’d both missed the fact that Deadman’s decapitation had been bloodless and that a man had walked in on the matter.
‘If you’re thinking about leaving you’d better think again Black Winger.’ Silencer announced, drawing his rapier and pointing it at Cholin’s face.
‘Black Wing?’ Tset asked incredulously.
Silencer ignored the heavily breathing man in the door opening and sat down next to Reaper. Reaper vaguely indicated his leg with his left arm. Silencer nodded and laid his hand upon the open wound, still keeping the rapier pointed at Cholin. A sound of metal piercing flesh and striking metal tinkled through the silence, only disturbed by Tset’s continuous breath. Silencer rose to his feet and opened his hand, there was a tiny bullet shaped robot lying on the palm. The little thing was equipped with several nasty looking hooks, bits of bone were still jammed between what could only be called the jaws of the tiny mechanical critter.
Tset sat down next to Deadman’s head and poked at the wiring that lay splayed out over the floor at the location his neck used to be.
‘Pretty advanced piece of work.’ He commented.
‘Indeed.’ Silencer agreed. ‘But what does it mean?’
--------------------
Next: Chapter Eleven (Gathering)
Let's align some facts shall we, and perhaps get a grip on things...

Kabob: I hope the technicality of the fighting scenes has dropped a little, else I really have my work cut out for me. Simple fact of the matter is that I like to describe exact movements and styles, personally I like that better than the 'I attack, dodge back, he attacks' kind of thing. It gives a wider array of possibilities to a writer and I do like a good set of scraps. It also brings problems, yes I agree.
Much of the idea of describing fighting this way was taken from the novellist Eric Van Lustbader, though I have to admit he's a tad better at it than me... then again I never wrote a bestseller, he did (but are all those sex-scenes really necessary at times?).

[Kabobward]

Cat coming back was one thing I didn't expect. I think I have an idea of where that could be going, though. The fight scenes were smoother this time around. A nice bit of action before what I'm guessing will be a plot building chapter.

[Battle Worn]

i think the story is awesome and veary well written good job.

[el boogiepop]

Demon Eyes: I don't for a minute think you've actually read the last 10+ stories you've posted almost identical one line replies to. Most of them are two minutes apart, and on really long stories like this one. I don't know if you're trying to fluff your post count or what, and you've been nothing but posotive on your post for the most part, but unreal feedback is not something a writer needs.

Vortigar: I just started on the story today. I figured since you were the only person reading mine, that I should return the favor. Maybe we can even PM each other when we upload a new chapter. Anyway, since like you mentioned the chapters are quite long (as far as this forum goes) I've only read the prologue and chapter 1. I think you've got a great start in all honosty. I loved some of the usage of the words you used, the bullets slicing through the air was the best one to me, I pictured them actually slicing (slow mo in my head) the air, was a great imagery. I'm not exactly sure of what's going on with the characters, but I havn't read much, and you've written well enough for me to want to know more about them, something I think writers have a real problem doing (keeping the reader interested). I'll try to read more later tonight or tomorrow, I find some of my best inspiration from other good stories.

[Vortigar]

Well, greets to you Boogiepop...

And Kabob: you guessed right...

I know its been quite some time since the last chapter and the simple excuse of time isn't going to cut it this time around (hehe). Thing is, this chapter was very difficult to write for me, deciding how to say what mostly, but also what to say at all... Well I hope a certain passage in this one is going to make sense, if it didn't I've got one hell of a problem... (or I'll just have to rewrite it...)

here goes
-----------
Chapter Eleven (Gathering)

‘And here we are again.’ Raven says laconically, releasing some of the pent up tension.
With him in the room stand the other Keepers, complete in number this time. Two wheeled biers stand in the middle of the room, Wolf standing at the heads, Raven directly opposite. In a vague circle around them stand the other Keepers, except for Stalker who’s laid out on one of the biers, flawless white cloth is draped over the other. Lunatic is hopping from one leg to the other as the silence starts to grow. Around the breathing bodies is a chamber that adopted the role of morgue for the Keepers because of the lack of a better location. The chamber, the largest accessible chamber in the Shell, was half filled with bodies stored in a converted file cabinet of massive proportions. Raven always thought that last fact was rather funny, striking a direct link with the way the Keepers worked nowadays, matter-of-factly.
‘Well,’ Wrathbringer begins ‘what happened?’
Wolf stepped forward and took a hold of the cloth draped over the second bier.
‘We found Mr. Stalker here in his current state in the forest around the Cathedral.’ Wolf’s words were followed by a whistle hissing through Silencer’s teeth. ‘This gentleman here was found next to him.’
Wolf threw back the cloth and revealed the body of Hawk, drained of all blood to keep the floor clean. From Wolf’s point of view he was able to see the top of the bier right through the hole in Hawk’s skull.
‘Both of them were stripped of all but their clothes, we’ve lost a pretty valuable pair of glasses here. What exactly happened remains a mystery but the crater in the man’s head has been traced to Stalker’s gun.’ Wolf’s conclusion is greeted by a nod from Raven.
‘Furthermore the name Unit 893 has been showing up all around the place, including on the only thing left in this man’s possession.’ At that Raven indicated Hawk. ‘He carried a business card with the name on it. We’ve run a trace and it’s a small conglomerate of seemingly useless companies, meaning their actual use is yet to be determined.’ Here Raven halts for a moment and walked forward to cover Hawk’s face, much to Caress’ disappointment who crouched to keep her eyes on the head wound for as long as possible. ‘What we do know is that Unit 893 is a trademark invented by Deadman himself. A signature of some sort, designed to deliberately draw our attention and no-one else’s.’
Before any other could ask a further question Wrathbringer stepped forwards to continue. The briefings among the Keepers always went in this semi-ordered fashion. Those with something to say stepped forward, details were usually exchanged only between those directly involved in the corresponding matter.
‘As it turns out 893 is the losing hand in an ancient Earth card game. The name was picked up by a group of people who said to fight for the freedom of the oppressed country. This group later grew into what would become one of the most legendary and feared criminal organisations in the history of mankind. In their native tongue they were called the Yakuza, the same tongue which Deadman learned to read the books he adopted his fighting style from.’


Sitting in the onlooker’s benches of the giant hall of convention Shill cursed himself in silence. Planetary Command had just decided on a resolution. Shill had tried his level best to dissuade PC from its current course of action. He’d pleaded with zealous vehemence, dissected the facts, explained the veracity of his views. It had been all for nought. His pleas had fallen upon deaf ears, ears that had already heard of Shill’s recent failure in losing two prized agents. Shill’s entire case had been generally ignored because of a discredit campaign someone had launched against his person from behind the scenes. For a straight cop like Shill this was even more infuriating, political backstabbing was one of the most tasteless things in the world in his eyes, bordering on the actual committing of murder one. Besides Shill there had been another voice that had rose up against the tide. Wolf, under the name Carlton Assel, had pulled all the strings he could gather in his hands. In Assel’s name hundreds of organisations that had a vote in PC had been politically destabilized from within as his messengers tried to persuade their superiors. Assel’s connections were never those at the top nut always people sitting second chair or advisors of those with the actual sceptre of power. This move, which would later become known as Assel’s Gambit, had put many companies that leaned heavily on political support in dire straits. Among these a large number had eventually fallen as they’d lost supply lines because they’d put themselves in a hot position by opposing general ascent in PC. The votes gathered by Assel’s Gambit hadn’t even made a dent in the resolution. At the last deciding meeting Wolf had already known the outcome and didn’t show his face. A week later Assel would die in a tragic car accident, flung off a cliff, the body would never be found. Wolf had to begin anew.

Crow, Unit 893’s operative in PC, sat in the Hall of Convention barely able to contain her own laughter. Both the discrediting of Shill and the destabilizing counter push against Assel’s connections had come from her. Her name would be of little import to the eyes of the public, most sources wouldn’t even mention her. After the resolution had been decided upon Crow had left the Hall, the millions of details that would be discussed afterwards could not bother her. She simply made her silent way past the benches of the onlookers, shooting a smiling glance at a crushed Shill. Flashing her pass she set foot in the eight by eight metre large guest elevator. The contraption, known as the flying entrance, transported her to ground level. Normally she took the main exit like all the other members of PC but she felt like a little luxury was in place today. Outside she crossed the street towards the line of payphones situated there and called her superiors. A vicious laughter greeted Crow as she informed those at the other end that PC would order a joint military assault into Corsair territory.


Slowly the pool of deep red underneath Hawk’s head grows. I stand over the body in disgust of myself and the act I’ve committed. I always knew there was a darkness within my soul. I overcame it in my late teens through meeting Banshee. The return of this malignant plague of my heart came when I met the Maskbearer in that conflict that ended in my recruition into the Keepers. I had been treated for it after that. Could it be that Raven’s mental reconstruction had been unsuccessful? Or had later influences meddled in the outcome?
I fall down upon my knees, my trousers absorbing blood, and throw my head back to look at the skies. Another lie, the stars, they’re not there, merely an illusion created by the Shell, as so many things. With each increase of my knowledge, and thus power, I’ve become less and less influential in the great game that’s being played. A game played out over the heads of the multi-millions living on the planet, far out of sight from all but a few. As for my role in it, I’m an observer, or rather I’ve become one. I was given many chances to be so much more but I lost it, listened to the wrong people, ended up with the wrong scalpel searing through my skull.
The sky darkens beyond black. All of a sudden I’m no longer even in control of my own thoughts as my mind courses back past the hurdles of my life. Have I been hit during my fight with Hawk? Is this the death that so many make of it? No. In my mind the head of Deadman is a far too prevalent feature. Something is amiss, where’s Cat? My vision fades… static takes over the view with a curt beep.
With a flick of a switch the monitor shuts down. Raven turns around towards the other Keepers.
“It is clear someone acting out the part of Deadman is trying to string us along. This someone has great knowledge of our inner workings. The list of possible suspects, factoring in the possibility of stolen life enlengthening units, is quite exhaustive.


I looked up from the console and racked my brain. Fox Syndicate wasn’t an area I was much familiar with. Still, I could have been in a far worse place, Fox was quite a bit away from Corsair territory, a territory that seemed to have been absorbed in a full scale war if what I read was true. That time I entered the Shell I’d seen the making of that very war, the source was Deadman. His right hand man, Terak Rask, had personally rallied men to his cause and raised arms against those within his own syndicate. Within moments the mighty structure of the cooperating mobs forming the powerful syndicates was disintegrated as a hundred loose factions sprang into life. Of this I have only read minute reports, but an inkling of the subject matter is all I needed, or even dared, read. Both rebel leaders, Deadman and Rask, had soon died after the start of the syndicate war, Rask before my very eyes even. I was about to be killed by him were it not that Gorgon put three bullets in his chest just then. That fight had been one of the tensest moments in my life. Rivalled only by my tussle with death represented by my former mentor Felt Tormentor, a fight that resulted in my own death.

I ordered up a hard copy of a set of maps detailing the relative neighbourhood around my current position. Behind me a machine willingly spewed out the pieces of paper. It had been a long time ago that I wanted to make sense of all the machines standing in the room. The mercenary outposts and bases are all equipped with chambers like these, filled to capacity with underlit machinery, relaying and storing all the data brought in by the hundreds of spies in the area. I had no direct information on the Keepers, the mercenary database in the sub-HQ here was rather thin. After grabbing the maps and a cup of coffee I set myself down behind a terminal again and started typing out my thoughts and memories. Someone had been messing with my head and put things in there I hadn’t known before. Maybe this way I could press out something explicitly valuable. Or at least an idea of where to begin or go right now. On the sidelines I would keep an eye on any reports coming in about the guy I’d left lying on the docks a couple of blocks down the road from here. It wouldn’t be long before the mercenary network of spies found that little package and started piecing stuff together.


‘What on earth are you thinking?’ Cholin asked incredulously.
‘I’m not thinking about anything, I’m just saying I’ve don’t plan on breaking out of here.’
Fazed, Cholin stared up at Tset, wondering if this man was indeed a member of the Black Wing or merely an impostor. The cold and lifeless room around them wasn’t in the least uncomfortable. Cholin was just upset because of the fact that the door was locked. A table, sticking like a sword out of the wall, was dressed up to the full with delicacies. The walls themselves were of the flat blue-silver, metal design that pervaded the Shell. Little did the two operatives know they were encased in a cell seven kilometres above the surface of a planet that wasn’t called Earth at all but rather Felius. A planet deliberately implanted with human life by a host of Terran countries that were prepared to lay down enormous amounts of resources for a goal that lay thousands of years into the future. Strangely enough Cholin thought Tset fitted perfectly in this environment, Tset’s stark white hair and red eyes seemed to him to be as sterile as the surroundings. For Cholin himself, with his slightly tanned skin and wild dark hair, the exact opposite was true. For a moment Cholin smiled as this analogy sped through his head.
‘I’ve had no reason to distrust these people yet, even though we’ve only met two we can be pretty sure they’re moving against Deadman’s successor.’ Tset explained, answering his companion’s querying look.
‘But they’re holding us prisoner?’
‘Yes, so? They let me keep all of my possessions. Isn’t that the first thing to strip off someone when you want to incarcerate them? Or are you of the opinion that they’re stupid?’
‘After seeing that display of technology?’
‘Exactly, now shut up and eat.’ Tset concluded, digging into the food arrayed on the little table shelf with the ferocity of a starving goat.
For a moment Cholin stared down at the floor, regarded the seamless, lockless, handle less door, looked at the ceiling from which hung no light bulb. Then it hit him, what had been troubling him all the way through this. The room was lit, yet there were no light sources. Fazed, Cholin shoved a chair up to the small table, unable to take even a single bite.


‘I disagree with the given possibility that an impostor has taken up Deadman’s identity.’ Silencer interjected.
Slowly the faces in the room turned towards the dark haired and sharp-eyed Keeper. Even Caress, normally uninterested in the world in general, seemed to be a bit surprised.
‘You know something we don’t?’ Wolf asked in return, relaying the thoughts of those present.
Silencer glanced around the room, his eyes settled upon Harlequin’s sensuous body.
‘Too much inside information has been revealed, one of us is a puppet, strings held by an outside force.’
‘And what do you mean with that?’ Lunatic almost cried out, following Silencer’s gaze to his sister.
‘Merely that a few timelines seem to cross. Stalker’s memories make me think there is more than one Deadman.’
Silencer’s soft voice seemed to get Lunatic riled up even more. Wrathbringer wanted to spring forward to interject but Raven shook his head. The rest of the Keepers were far too intrigued or lost in thought to even think of stepping between the two. Even when Lunatic shoved his sister aside and assumed a fighting posture nobody moved, even Silencer himself only raised an eyebrow and turned his body slightly.
‘Merely nothing! If you want to accuse her, do it!’
To everybody’s even greater surprise Silencer faced Lunatic and said: ‘Okay, I say she let Deadman live intentionally.’
Lunatic tensed and launched himself forward in blind rage. Like a true matador Silencer spun aside, his long black cloak becoming the red cloth drawing in the bull. The wall was hard but Verian Lunatic was never one to be deterred by odds or tough objects. To their side the Keepers backed away, Wolf giving the two biers in the centre of the room a sharp tug to make room.
‘Stop this!’ Wrathbringer called out.
‘Tell him that.’ Silencer intoned mockingly.
Lunatic didn’t bother with words.
Silencer and Lunatic had never liked one another, they were considered the most powerful and dangerous of the Keepers and it never had been decided who ranked highest. Raven and Wolf both knew this and had silently agreed not to interfere, hoping to end this little feud and diffuse the situation before the bomb started ticking for real. The problem was however that Silencer had made a point in the process, Harlequin could indeed have betrayed them, and even though Raven had recruited her Wolf could then no longer blame the whole situation on a single person, namely Raven.
‘Hiyaah...’ Silencer gusted out charismatically as Lunatic came rushing towards him again.
Within moments the two were embroiled in a full on fight to the death. Lunatic’s above human strength and speed were being countered by Silencer’s equal skills with his rapier. Though Lunatic held the upper hand there was no way he could take Silencer down while the blade stood between them.
‘Just admit it.’ Silencer spoke, bobbing from side to side. ‘Deadman lives.’
Then and there something inside Harlequin snapped. Without a moment’s hesitation she pulled out a small black pistol and aimed it directly at Raven’s head. Time seemed to freeze as Lunatic discovered what was happening. The gun went off. Raven’s head jerked aside, his body followed, in a spin he collapsed onto the ground. A single tear rolled down the madman’s face, his sister had betrayed him. Silencer was past the shocked man before him in no time and slashed the small weapon in Harlequin’s hand to pieces. Before she could act she was already caught with her throat a mere inch away from cold steel.
-----------
next:
Chapter Twelve (Harlequin)

(Well did you get Stalker's last paragraph or not? I thought it was a pretty nifty stunt to pull, what'd you think?)

[Kabobward]

The chapter read fine, Vortigar. You've finally gone back to the alien deal from earlier. An interesting angle.

It's getting a little hard to remember everything that's going on. Too much time between chapters.

[crownless]

Well hello there Vorty.
I'm back. been away for a long time i know. but im back and will try to catch up with the reading. Nice to see you're still writing your story.

Keep it up.

Till next time....greetzzz Crowny

[Vortigar]

Crowny? Long time no see pal! Dang, I'll mail you sometime to catch up...

Kabob: Yes I know it's been far too long. I wouldn't be surprised if Ed bailed on me there. My timetable from now on will be quite irregular. But I'm at least pressing myself a little bit harder than of late. There's been quite a break in the plot right here and I need to wheel myself back into gear (ie. think out the bridge to the next part). I know where the indiciduals are going but not how I'm going to fit it together exactly... troublesome.

Here goes:
--------------
Chapter Twelve (Harlequin)

I was outside before the nightwatch came around to check the data storage facility. I’d have to continue my memory experiment elsewhere, but not now. I knew that it had been Deadman that had saved my life, also that he had tried to gain a hold over me through some kind of brain manipulation. It obviously hadn’t worked out as planned. My current course of action had nothing to do with Deadman however. Before I could make any move I’d have to round up some allies, people whom I knew I could trust. In my current situation there were only two I still trusted. Both of them had saved my life on numerous occasions. The problem was that Rat and Gorgon were now part of the Keepers, operating under different names, Stalker and Caress respectively. I hoped that Raven had been as successful with them as Deadman had been with me. If not, I’d stand alone, and that was not a favourable position in this battle of the titans.
‘You really think you’ll get out of here that easy?’
The voice was cold and mechanical, the body belonging to it was hidden behind a trench coat. His face trapped in the shadow created by his hat. He looked a lot like the guy I had gutted at the docks, most notably because of the faulty shoulder position. I clenched my hand around the hilt of the switchblade and pulled it out into the open.
‘My partner was probably uninformed about who or what you are. I’ll not make the same mistake.’
It seemed they had already found out about the corpse at the docks. Had they also found the car? What worried me more was the fact that I’d been found so easily. On the other hand my move in coming here had been quite predictable if one knew my background as a mercenary. Mercenaries go to the mercenary database for their updates, simple as that. That also meant that Deadman had either sent this guy personally, was here himself, or had briefed his underlings about me. Either which way was a worrying circumstance.
‘One,’ I finally decided to speak up, ‘I’m under the impression I’m already outside. Two, your partner made no mistake, I’m just that good.’
In my head the duel between me and my ex-mentor Felt popped up. All through that last encounter with him I had been challenging him, putting him under mental pressure, making him angry, reckless, it had cost me my life. It was strange I was going for the same approach right now, against an enemy of whom I knew nothing of his capabilities. Perhaps I was even more like my gambling friend Rat than I had imagined.


Silencer held the blade deadly still as he slid forward past the cold steel, his face halting a scant fraction of the original distance between him and Harlequin.
‘It really is quite a shame.’ He almost breathed the words in her face.
Behind Silencer stood the brother of the traitor, Lunatic, lost for words, muscles like water.
‘No!’ Raven’s voice rung through the room like a clarion call. ‘She’s mine.’ From a shout his voice turned to a velvet timbre.
‘Very well.’ Without even stopping at the question how Raven had survived Silencer backed away.
In total contrast to Silencer calm approach Raven came forward like a wave beating ashore. His right hand clasped around Harlequin’s neck. Apparently effortless Raven lifted his quarry up against the wall by her throat. Harlequin didn’t resist. Staring into her eyes Raven found his answer. He nodded.
‘Thus quoth the Raven:’ He intoned venomously. ‘Nevermore...’
And with that he flung her across the room, her body limp like a rag doll as she smashed into the wall. A wet thump coupled with a slight hint of metal impacting metal ensued and reverberated through the chamber. Harlequin’s once lush and inviting body slapped onto the floor, revealing circuitry amid the blood.
‘Someone’s playing with us.’ Wolf commented.
Raven turned towards Silencer.
‘Sometimes you manage to make us all look like fools. Make a habit out of it and I’ll kill you.’
Silencer inclined his head and smiled.
‘How did you figure it out anyway?’ Wrathbringer queried.
‘Just a hunch.’
‘Some hunch.’ Gorgon interjected, breaking her self imposed vow of silence.
‘A number of options are still laid out before us but it is safe to assume that Deadman is still alive. There’s no way Harlequin could’ve been switched with an android after we gathered again, the events were too fast and there was always somebody with her.’ Wolf summed up.
‘Can we trust anyone at this point?’ Raven tossed, his face like a grave.
‘If we don’t we’re lost already. We need everyone we have if we’re to succeed against Deadman. But I think the real question is why we’re up against him, without even a hint of Deadman’s objectives we can’t even begin to line out a strategy. And I think we have two tools to keep our eyes on events right now.’ Reaper smiled at Silencer as he started elaborating on his ideas about the Black Wing operatives they’d in their hands and the Mercenary guilds that stood under the black man’s command.


‘Oh shut up!’
I looked over my shoulder at the hole he’d just punched in the wall. This guy possessed serious power, I wasn’t in a position to get reckless. His voice was still booming in my ears as I twisted myself away from him. With the sword I had the advantage of reach, if he were to dart forward like that again and keep his momentum up I’d have some serious problems. But worst of all he had just deflected my blade with the back of his arm. That must also be the reason why he walked so funny, there were quite a bit of mechanical enhancements strapped to this guy’s body.
‘My predecessor hadn’t even begun to flex his muscles, and neither have I.’
If he was trying to scare me with that line he wasn’t doing a very good job, but at least he got the point across he wasn’t done yet, whether that counted as my or his advantage was yet to be determined. I was a number of metres away from him when he set himself in motion again, his legs hissing with mechanical strain he launched himself over me. Landing behind me I was unprepared for his attack, as I still had to switch position and weight from one foot to the other. His arm contacted my upper body, launching in through the gap in my defences, sending me flailing backward.
‘Hurts doesn’t it?’
I was indeed feeling quite winded then but wouldn’t let that hold me back. I knew his enhanced musculature would let him do things beyond human capabilities, that and the fact I was now sure I was both outmatched in speed and force. All I had was a blade, a switchblade, a whipblade. Remembering my one chance encounter with Deadman I shifted my grip on the hilt of the blade. With a slight sound the six blades came loose, suspended from one another by razor thin, thus sharp, wiring that could withstand quite a bit of force. I hadn’t heard or seen any of the things break in any case.
I had quite some hours of training with the whip behind me but these six flying parts scything through the air was going to be a new experience. I had used the whip-form of this type of blade before actually but it had only been a few lashes. As it was I wasn’t prepared for the multiple way in which the weapon reacted to a flick of the wrist. The first two blades shot forward past one another but the third and following leapt past one another, hopping awkwardly forward, the weapon falling miserably short of its target. My first attempt was rewarded by a jab to the ribs that I barely managed to avoid. With my opponent so close my second attempt had a greater chance to succeed. Swinging back in a wider arc than before the whipblade responded far better and curled out to nearly its full length. My opponent ducked to the ground to dodge the attack, allowing me another try. Hoping that I’d got the hang of it I reversed the motion of my arm, pulling the whip after it. I jumped forward, almost coming into bodily contact with my adversary. The whipblade shot a mere foot past me, following my hand through the air. My opponent had no choice but to fall back. With a flick of my wrist the thing lashed back upon itself with a crack and shot forward catching my opponent in the arm, wrapping around it, and slicing the limb off.
Oil and blood splashed unto the ground. My opponent fell on one knee and glared up at me in warning. I didn’t care. Switching my grip, the blade came together again. Just after I heard the sixfold click of the blade becoming solid I slashed it upward to my left, severing head from corpse.


The seamless door opened soundlessly. Tset and Cholin spun their heads to the figure standing in the opening. Reaper neighed his head in greeting and stepped inward. Cholin looked at Tset with a question in his eyes. Tset shook his head, he was quite sure drastic action would not be required here.
‘You’re going back out gentlemen. This time you’ll take the lead and Silencer’ll follow, but the objective is still ours to ordain.’
The two Black Wing agents stared up at the Keeper, one in distrust the other in wonder, what now? Silencer stepped in line behind Reaper, poking his head past the side of the black man’s shoulders.
‘We need inside intell on the Black Wing, Shill threw himself up on the scaffold and was executed in a way quite unbecoming to a man with his position.’
The two jumped up in surprise and anger.
‘Oh no, not that literally, please. Shill merely voiced his opinion in PC and was all but ignored. We want to know more about it, who leaked what information and such. And besides that we want to know why your backup team never arrived.’
Cholin started with surprise as he saw that Silencer was talking about him in that last sentence. Maybe Tset had been right about these guys, not being as bad as they appeared the first time around. Still, there was a lot to figure out.
‘I will only accompany you three so far, I’ll leave you and Silencer to yourselves once I’m assured of your respective corporation. So what do you think?’
Tset merely nodded in reply to Reaper’s question, Cholin wasn’t as easily caught however.
‘Assured of corporation? Does that mean some kind of exchange, info for info?’
Silencer smiled and pushed past the other Keeper.
‘Yes indeed master Cholin. You’ll have a number of your questions answered by the time we get to Black Wing HQ.’ Cholin raised an eyebrow because of the forthcoming tone of Silencer. ‘But you also have to know we can neither divulge everything, nor have you spilling the priceless beans offered by us to anyone within earshot.’ Now Cholin was nodding, understanding the terms and expecting as much.
‘Have we got a deal? Or must we leave you here to rot?’ Reaper asked to make it official.
‘Let’s move out!’ Tset shot up from his seat, clicked his heels together and saluted in true military form.
‘I can see why Silencer here is so fond of you master Tset.’ Reaper remarked, noting the fact that he and Tset were the exact pigmental opposites, white versus black. It wasn’t of real interest but Reaper thought it funny anyway, it seemed they didn’t differ in personality much. It was as if the two of them were proof of the statement that looks were only skin deep.


‘Where do we stand now?’ Shill asked causing the intelligence officers to stare up at him in surprise.
Standing atop of the walkway running the full length of the building Shill turned on his feet and came face to face with his aide.
‘At a crossroad.’ Artan answered the question. ‘Do we want to keep the men in the field to see what rats will abandon the ship once the military turns up the heat or do you want them to pull back?’
‘I do not want to sacrifice this many men Artan.’
‘Then have we done everything so far in vain?’
‘We have been overruled, I have been overruled. What am I to do otherwise?’ Shill’s normally composed and powerful voice had dwindled to that of a worried soul.
‘By keeping a hold on vital locations we could show PC that you weren’t mistaken before. They’d see their intervention was both foolish and unnecessary.’ Artan was giddy like a child with a new toy.
‘You truly are a dreamer Artan. What do I have that could be so important to make a difference. Most of my objectives weren’t reached and estimates say I have no chance of catching up in time.’
‘Then we’re going to run?’
‘No, we’re going to let the military take over.’
Artan knew that concluding it was the same thing would only bring him Shill’s wrath so he remained silent. By pulling out he knew they were out of the game and would be sent to investigate some backwater of no interest. The Black Wing had been created exactly for occasions such as these, to move against the syndicates whenever they surfaced. And now they were being thrown out while they were finally in their element. They were being thrown out like old socks because PC was scared. Every innocent was already out of the area or dead, so why not keep the cordon up and push the syndicates for information?
‘Get moving Artan, send out the word.’
Shill’s eyes were aflame with anger and grief. He had not only failed his superiors but also himself. He’d been entrusted with active command of the greatest Black Wing operation in history and he’d botched it up. There was no excuse for it. His career wouldn’t last much longer and there was nothing he dared do about it. Viced between law and threat of death he would stand down, dishonoured.

‘Sir?’
Shill looked aside to see a corporal standing to attention beside him.
‘What is it?’
‘Two operatives have called in. They said it was urgent and that they had a guest.’
‘Operatives? Who?’
‘Uhm,’ the man rifled through the heavy pack of printouts in his hands. ‘Cholin and Tset, sir.’
Shill shot up right in surprise. The two were alive and, more importantly, together. Had the two of them stumbled upon different ends of the same mystery?
‘What about Cholin’s backup unit?’
Clueless the corporal stared at his commanding officer before lowering his head and pulling out a single leaf of paper from the pile in his hands for closer examination.
‘There’s no such assignation here sir.’ He said after a while.
‘What? Give me that!’
Shill ripped the leaf from the corporal’s hands and scanned over the operation report on Cholin. There was no reference under extra resources or contingency considering the backup unit he’d ordered. No wonder he’d heard nothing, communications had short-circuited.
--------------
next:
Chapter Thirteen (Search)

[Kabobward]

I really don't worry about the time, because I at least know you're going to actually finish this. I'll be here to the end.

That chapter seemed a bit shorter then the others. The fight scenes were easy to follow. Not much to say, as normal

[Morningstar Smiles]

Yay! I've finally finished book 1 and caught up to this one! And I made edit changes that I can send you in chat for book one via chat sometime Vorty.
To copy Justin Carr (and cause it was so darn etertaining XD) Here are my picks for:

Top 7 Corsair Syndicate (Just the first book) Bloopers

1. “I let out a sigh of relief, I’m a virtual weapons store right now, if he would’ve bumped into me we would have had a serious problem.”
--yeah I TOTALLY hate it when I’m a virtual weapons factory too.

2. “Cat tugs his head between his knees. ‘I suggest you do likewise.’”
--XD I don’t even WANT to know what THAT implies.

3. “Some of the divers grab weapons and start cutting down civilians indiscriminately.”
--When good divers go bad. Probably from the COMPLETE LACK OF A BODY OF WATER they didn’t find in the modern day city.

4. “Past experiences have thought me that.”
--Huh?

5. “…the smiles on their faces shows that it’s al in the interest of good sport.”
--Good ol’ Al ^__^

6. “I step forward and take a bough. ‘I don’t think introductions are necessary.’”
--Hey! Just because you take part of someone’s tree or bush doesn’t mean that you don’t need to introduce yourself!…Unless you’re the gardener, I guess.

7. “She's lying on the floor, her body curled up in a foetal position.”
--The foetal position?! Wow! Even I can’t do that!

[Radical Ed]

Well, I'm afraid that during my little "sojourn" (in other words, the absence I took where I didn't think it was worth the effort of showing my mug around these parts), my attention span failed to increase. I've got two chapters left to read, but... I just read chapter 10, and I believe it's worth commenting on. I saw a couple grammar errors (I think your brain probably just hiccuped, they were just after long descriptions of fighting, so don't worry about it), other than that... I can't believe I went so long without reading this fic. *makes note to return periodically to continue reading*

[Vortigar]

Having been pleasantly surprised by having two new posts here AND winning a certain contest, there was nothing standing between me and getting myself back on track in this little thread of mine. The development of the rest of the story has not stood still in the last month, though the flood of new chapters COULD be called halted. I have been able to outline straightly where and how the story is going to end and the main lines to there have been drawn, the only thing still sticking in my mind like a misfired gluebomb is the fate of a number of the cast. It won’t take long before I’ll tie up those ends though.

Kabob, MSS and Ed, I can’t thank you enough for your words and implicit attempts to spur me on.

This chapter has been written over quite some time and has no further editing but a spell check (English (GB)), but I simply can’t force myself to keep it from you for any longer, and my guilt chip has also started throbbing in my heart. So before I‘m felled by some fatal cardiac arrest, roll tape!
----------
Chapter Thirteen (Setup)

Following the withdrawal of the Black Wing the military came rumbling in with full confidence in their numbers and machinery. The last thing they were expecting was a force twice their size equipped to the same or sometimes even better standards. Yet that was what they were rolling into, if that force could be banded together that meant. It could not. Within five days all that was left of the threat of full scale war was a burning heap. A heap with many secrets underneath it. This the military also found out as they consolidated their positions since they were once more overrun by syndicate forces. The second tank battalion was reduced to scrap, with five vehicles in enemy hands, intact. The first was all but gone. And the rest, three through five, were pinned down in ultimately untenable positions. Through all this the soldiers of both sides ran everywhere. The first day of the consolidation move saw all communications blocked by an unknown emitter of enormous power. The military, that relied upon strict guidance and the gathering of forces, was doomed under the combined weight of the loose units of syndicate troops that needed no further direction but the tell tale sounds of gunfire and the smoke of burning houses.

PC was lost for words and the populace demanded an explanation. Lieutenant Shill was called upon to describe once more what he had predicted before hand by the media, he did so with full conviction. Shill’s estimations were taken up as the truth and his meanderings of the mind were noted down as facts. PC’s Organ for the Public, POP, had by that time also lost all control of the situation and the public mood was swinging wildly between complete sanitation of the current system of government or the abolition of the entire thing. Of course PC was still in command, and even through all the protests they mounted up operations to re-establish the full communications network through personal emitters that were being escorted in by elite troops. Wolf looked on from out of the background, shaking his head at every notion PC produced of a plan. The war had been lost, what they were looking for was a miracle. Raven personally stepped into PC at a certain point in the name of a certain import/export conglomerate. Using the heavy influence of that sector he managed to stall operations long enough for Silencer and Reaper to reach their destinations.


‘It’s obvious why they called you Reaper.’ Cholin said, the duel between Reaper and the android of Deadman playing in the back of his head. ‘But why were you awarded the ominous name of Silencer.’
Silencer cast a glance toward Reaper, wondering if his fellow Keeper would have objections to his answering of the question. Reaper merely shrugged, then nodded.
‘This little...’ Silencer used his fingers to quote the word little as figuratively, ‘band of ours has a strict task based system of ranks running through it. When one is first recruited one gets assigned to something euphemistically called field duty. This entails everything from spying and infiltration to elimination and assassination. One also gets assigned a nickname and it has to sound dark and scary to tag along with these kind of assignments. I was awarded the name Silencer because of the fact that I usually slice open the throat of my victims in such a way that the vocal chords can’t produce any sound. Later on I was replaced by other field operatives and I was sent into deep intelligence gathering, infiltrating multiple organisations at once by the order of other organisations which I’m infiltrating for real, that kind of thing.’
Gauging the look on Cholin’s face Reaper was quite pleased with Silencer’s answer, complete, undivulging and satisfying for the listener.
‘How do you know where we’re going anyway?’ Tset slipped in slyly.
‘Trade secret.’ Silencer replied.
‘This is it then, I’m off.’ And with those few words Reaper disappeared into an alley. It would be quite some time before either of the other three would see him again.
‘Where’s he off to?’ Tset asked tersely.
‘He’s going to call in a second batch of allies, and believe me, we’re going to need them.’


‘Who are you?’ The storeclerck uttered in surprise as Cat threw open the door of the bakery in the middle of the night. The curt sound of a silenced pistol jetting a bullet between the man’s eyes was all the reply that was offered. The fact that someone was down here at this time proved the fact that something clandestine was going on. Cat’s memory had explained that much, but he still couldn’t trust it that much.
‘Funny,’ Cat thought, ‘since when did I get so wise?’
A quick check of the man’s body delivered an automatic of sleek design into Cat’s hands. Things were starting to look stranger and stranger at the place. The gun was not of any design crafted on the surface. It was at that point Cat was certain his memory rang true. Relying on the well-preparedness of the Keepers Cat assumed the automatic was silent as well. He holstered his pistol and kept the automatic unholstered.
His descent down the stairs found Cat finding what he had expected, what he remembered he would find, a small chamber set in the middle of the basement. One could almost call it a pod if it wasn't as massively built as it was.
With the flick of a few switches Cat switched the inner mechanisms of the transporter on. A stale green hue spread through the room, revealing the mass of snaking cables running over the bare floor and walls. The device itself was simply designed on the outside, an eightsided steel shell with an empty room inside, the entranceway guarded by a glass door.
Cat knew what he was getting himself into when he stepped into the chamber and slammed the door shut behind him. The cold gut wrenching feeling of technology turning you inside out and back again filled his throat as he pushed the engage button on the inside of the chamber.


‘Where are you going?’ Lunatic stalled as he heard Wrathbringer's question. ‘You can't bring your sister back, precautions have been taken, a large offensive is at hand, your personal interference would mean nothing in this case.’
‘What,’ Lunatic said as he spun round and faced up squarely opposite to the large man previously behind him, ‘do you know about my motives and thoughts. I’ve lost my sister, possibly a long time ago, at the hands of one person or another, I don’t care. I’ve spent the last weeks worrying and punishing myself for that, lost in a self induced coma. I’ve lived through that, again and again. Now, my conscience is clear, my mind set straight, and I know where it’s pointed at. Deadman’s head will be mine, whether he be guilty or not.’
‘You have no chance against Deadman, you know this.’ Wrathbringer implored. ‘Your death would serve no purpose, join our gathered effort and take your revenge from among our ranks. We owe you too much to keep you on the outside, you owe us too much to simply deny me.’
‘Hah! Debts of honour and servitude. I thought you were more inventive than that Wrathy. This is not about vengeance, this is about feeling better. I need to do this to prove myself, don’t you see? I’ve lived my life insane for too long, even after Raven’s treatments made me understand what was going on inside my mind. I know more about humanity than any of us, don’t you think any solo effort should be made by me? Isn’t it true that if you were to send someone out alone it would be me? Isn’t it true that I was always sent out alone because you all were unable to co-operate with me? Because you feared my jolts of insanity? Why hold me back now when I finally take initiative and act beyond the other Keepers. We’re facing one of our own, wouldn’t this be the ultimate surprise, an attack a rebel element within the Keepers?’
‘Please Lunatic, you understand yourself, now then, understand yourself and your motives now! You claim you’re focussed but you’ve lost it truly this time. Even with the element of surprise on your side you won’t be able to find Deadman, least of all take a shot at him. What you’re planning now is insane, it’s more than that...’
‘Insane?!’ Verian Lunatic launched himself forward on top of Wrathbringer, bringing the large man down by sheer force of will. With his hands clasped around Wrathbringer’s neck he continued. ‘Insane you say? Truly, duly so, yes. Motives, morals and logic don’t speak to me, souls do, my soul does. Whether you call it insane or just plain weird and stupid is inconsequential to me. What matters to me is myself, for the first time ever, myself!’
Lunatic rose from his colleague and stepped outside with powerful, pounding strides. Outside the fresh morning air of a war free country splashed him awake.
‘Deadman will fall.’ Lunatic intoned darkly, the motives of his heart resounding in his head.

Raven tore his attention away from the screen and leaned back in his chair to contemplate the situation. Lunatic’s semi-defection wasn’t all too surprising, even if Loony said he was going to surprise Deadman with his move, Raven wasn’t as sure. Wrathbringer on the other hand seemed confident in Raven’s own ability to come up with a strategy to take down Deadman. As grateful as the black haired man was by Wrathbringer confidence , he wasn’t going to let himself be overcome by his own confidence. He had made that mistake with Deadman before and it had brought them in this tenuous situation. Raven glanced back at the screen in front of him again for a second. Wrathbringer stared back into the lens of the camera at the other end. Would it really have mattered if Wrathbringer had succeeded in keeping Lunatic in check? Raven wondered if it would’ve.
The door flew open behind Raven. The dark-haired Keeper spun his chair around to come face to face with Wolf.
‘An extra set of complications has just come up.’
Raven raised his eyebrows.
‘I assume your initiative was successful,’ he replied flatly.
‘Indeed,’ Wolf resumed, ‘but the outcome has proved that the current situation is a bit more dire than we first suspected. The resistance being put up by the Syndicates against the military is simply too organised to originate from scattered battlefield alliances. The syndicates have joined forces on a higher level than mere peons. From what I gather a centralised command structure has been set up.’
‘How’d you gather that then?’
‘I’ve been busy picking my way through a number of Corsair’s own old cells and all of them accept their commands through the same channels under the same protocols. An elaborate network of information runners is active, people mad enough to risk their necks, running straight through the battlescarred lands. After noticing this pattern in seven different cells I made sure to hook up with a few old contacts in other syndicates, Fox, Tiver and Dynasty to be exact. And what do you know, same thing going on. After skimming through twenty-four cells I’ve yet to find an exception to this pattern.’ An ominous silence followed Wolf’s words.
‘I bet you’ve also concluded there is only one who could’ve pulled a stunt like this,’ Raven stated.
‘Aye, and impressively enough he’s also used the Keepers themselves to meet his objectives. It seems we’ve become the shame of the many generations of Keepers.’
The two looked at each other coldly. Inside Raven was thankful Wolf had used the word ‘we’ in his last sentence. Wolf, on the other hand, had finally learned first hand that Deadman was not the straightforward mind he’d always expected to find behind those cold eyes. Raven was to be the first to speak again.
‘Silencer and Reaper have to be informed on this, their mission has become doubly important now.’
‘I think they’ll figure it out soon enough. Aside from that it doesn’t change anything about their objectives. I’ve already put together an information package to send over to them, don’t worry.’ Wolf had already noticed Raven’s sceptic eyes so covered it up quickly with his last statement.
‘Don’t worry,’ Raven intoned darkly, ‘famous last words Wolf.’
Wolf turned away from Raven’s smiling face and continued his journey to the data-cores, his original destination, before he’d heard Raven talking.
‘Wolf, wait up a second!’ The old Keeper halted his pace. ‘Lunatic has bailed out on us and is going after Deadman on his own. There has to be a way we can use that to our advantage.’
Wild hopes welled up inside Wolf’s ancient brain. He shook his head sternly and looked back at Raven.
‘I will not inquire if you’ve sent someone out to track him, since that is the obvious response so I’ll just join you in trying to come up with possible scenarios and our responses to them. You’ll hear from me soon enough black bird.’
Raven snorted a laugh and turned back into the chamber. Slowly Wolf came about again, his head miles away pondering about possibilities, generating equations and variables along the way. Swaying, he continued his path.


The arrival hall shone in its absolute perfection. Last time Reaper’d been here Deadman had used the extra-perceptive qualities of the place to ambush Cat and his companions Rat and Banshee, as Stalker and Harlequin were known back then. It must’ve been a pretty weird fight, moving floors and mirrors creating space that was not there. It was also their first encounter with true androids. Reaper tried to fathom how it felt when he encountered such things for the first time. He could not realise the sensation in his head. With a sad look in his eyes and mind he glanced around the room one last time before the cramped elevator closed its doors before him and took him to the top levels of the building, which housed one of the sub-headquarters of the Mercenary Guilds. The place was run by a woman named Ghost, she’d already been familiar with Reaper and so knew there were things out there in the world that she was only vaguely aware of. Still it’d been quite a shock when Reaper and Deadman went head to head in her office, even the solid gold desk became a victim of their razor-sharp and relentless weaponry. After the encounter Reaper had thought about relocating the entire installation because it wouldn’t take long before the Guild HQ would be found by the Black Wing after that messy incident. Luckily, ironically, Corsair Syndicate fell quickly after, allowing Ghost some slack and giving her the room to come up with a way out of the jam. Her ability to deal with the situation had prompted Reaper to respect her greatly and even consider her for a position among the Keepers. He hadn’t acted upon that consideration though, so she unwittingly continued in her daily routines, taking heed of Reaper’s advice and directions wherever she could. She hadn’t even thought of asking about the way and how when Reaper’d ordered her to pull back all active mercenaries and command the other HQ commanders to do the same. There had to be some, for her, unfathomable goal behind it all, so, true to mercenary form, she acted and didn’t question.
‘I was wondering how long it’d take before you finally showed your face.’
Reaper woke from his musing and stared straight into the stern but attractive face of Ghost. In total contrast to her position and surroundings she was dressed in a long gown with a hood covering her long hair. The only thing visible of her among all the layers of fabric was her face and hands, both were of a pure white colour.
‘Ghost,’ Reaper greeted, inclining his head slightly, ‘The time has come for the Guilds to act, and act drastically.’
The formal way of speaking alerted Ghost to the fact that Reaper was dead serious so she kept any witty remarks caught behind her teeth.
----------
next chappy:
14 (Shill Silenced)

Kabob: before I forget, a note on the length of the chapters. I control the length of my chapters by rounding off paragraphs to create three page long chapters in my word document back home. So conversations will indeed make a chapter seem shorter than others. I’ve no idea why I’ve chosen for this format, from one point of view it seems logical from the other it restrains immensely. Still, it works for me…

ps. have you ever seen today's internet in 16 colors? (not 16 bit, but simply 16) Truly this is flipping hilarious...

[Kabobward]

It's been so long I had to go back and re-read the last chapter.

The dialogue during the Lunatic scene was probably the best I've seen from you.

[Vortigar]

Best conversation yet? Now that I’ve read it again I’ll have to agree with you. Weird realisation really. I have an extreme amount with conversations you see and really appreciate the pointer. Now to remember how I pulled it together…

Without further ado about nothing:
----------
Chapter Fourteen (Shill Silenced)

‘I assume this has to do with the Corsair situation?’
‘The army won’t be able to go on for much longer and it won’t be long before they’ll have to retreat all together. We’re going in to help them.’
Ghost drew back in surprise, her thoughts racing, trying to pin down Reaper’s position, or the organisation he could be working for. She had too much sense to ask but always wondered about it.
‘This,’ she swallowed, ‘is unexpected.’
‘It will get even weirder,’ Reaper assured, ‘We’ll be co-operating closely with the Black Wing through this operation. Announce the deployment of all units in these formations.’
Reaper pulled a CD-case out of his coat pocket and handed it to Ghost.
‘I know I’m stretching the limit this time but I’m still the commander and chief of the gathered Mercenary Guilds and I will not be denied. You will send the contents of this disk to every commander above the third tier of command. Besides orders this also contains a full extrapolation of what can and will happen if we don’t do act accordingly, and believe me, it’s not pretty. Our enemy in all of this is Syndicate Master Callus Deadman himself.’ Reaper paused here for a second to let the last statement sink into Ghost’s mind. Before she could utter a word he continued.
‘Yes, I know you used to serve under him and he has always supported the Mercenary Guilds. This place,’ Reaper made a wide gesture with his hands, ‘exists solely because of him. But believe me when I say this is more than the personal enmity that resides between him and me.
‘The second CD in that case contains a number of documents meant for you and you alone. I trust you will guard whatever is on it with your life. It is protected by a number of safeties and passwords, you are the only one that can figure it out, and you will figure it out. Anything on it also can’t be accessed before two weeks have passed. If I haven’t retrieved it before that time you are allowed to read it. It contains the answers to any questions you might have about me and the organisation I’m involved in. I hope I’ll be able to explain it’s contents first hand but I can’t be sure of that.’
Fazed, Ghost stared at the piece of plastic in her hands. She realised she was being entrusted with everything Reaper held dear and wanted kept secret. She would be the vessel of his hopes and dreams should he himself fail. The consideration nearly made her sick to her stomach to know that everything he was could stand or fall depending on the outcome of events in the coming two weeks. She knew that the CD contained information of the gravest calibre, she’d seen what kind of influence Reaper had on the world, she’d witnessed the fall of syndicates, companies and government agencies alike at Reaper’s intervention, and in her hands now lay the key toward that influence, that power. The thought that she should be entrusted with something like this was almost unthinkable, especially for her, a mere middleman among the banners of true lords arrayed around her.
She looked up into Reaper’s eyes again and saw a look she would never be able to fully describe. She would note it down in her diary as a look containing respect, trust and sincerity in equal measures layered into a housing of the truest fear she’d ever beheld.


Cat shot through the corridor just as the door to Raven’s chambers closed. He had yet to make sense of the memories about the Shell so his only lead was Wolf who was absentmindedly pacing forward before him. Cat’d considered subduing the Keeper and forcing him to guide his way, but he wasn’t confident he was going to be able to stand a chance against Wolf. Besides the Keepers advanced age, which meant he was going to be heavily augmented by some technology or other, Cat’s memories held no record of Wolf’s capabilities. The realisation that he lacked combat data on the Keepers disturbed Cat greatly. It also meant that Deadman had never seen any of the Keepers in action himself, except for Reaper but Cat’d known about his ways already. Harlequin, the other Keeper Deadman had faced off against, was dead now so there was no real reason for Cat to dwell too much upon the memories on her expertise. On the other hand she could be used as reference, the other Keepers were surely going to be as fast or powerful as she was, if not more so. Silencer, Lunatic and Wrathbringer’s ways of fighting could be read from the way they looked and acted, Raven and Wolf weren’t as obvious. Wisely Cat had decided to take the better part of valour and simply allowed Wolf to lead him around the corridors of the Shell to wherever he was going.


Silencer allowed himself to be led in by Tset. The Keepers had always kept tabs on the Black Wing and their operations so Silencer was well aware where he was and who was who within the organisation but it was no substitute to actually coming face to face with the most covert group of people on the entire planet, aside from the Keepers. Especially for Silencer, who’d infiltrated almost any type of organisation in the world, coming into contact with one of the few he wasn’t personally familiar with brought a mixture of excitement and curiosity.
As Tset paved the way for the two behind him jaws dropped open on either side of the small group. Tset and Cholin had been reported dead some time ago, most present were unable to contain their surprise. They were still in the library acting as a cover for the Black Wing HQ. Ironically, if a random person were to step inside now, the cover would actually blow their cover. The HQ was located so near to the Corsair border that no one in the right mind would come down there to visit a library. Besides from the insane mindset it would also take a very cunning man to get past all the blockades that had been erected around Corsair territory.
‘Where have you been?’ Shill shouted more than asked as he crashed through the throng that had formed around the trio.
‘I’m glad you’re so happy to see me,’ Tset replied comically.
‘Cholin?’ Shill halted abruptly as the other missing operative came into his view. Artan slammed into Shill’s back because of the sudden stop.
‘Sir,’ Cholin saluted.
‘I’ll read both your reports later. Who is this?’
Shill’s eyes settled themselves upon Silencer’s tall and slender frame. A second pair of eyes, belonging to Shill’s aide Artan, followed the lieutenant’s gaze and flew wide open in surprise. The eyes staring at him over Shill’s shoulder made Silencer produce a sly smile before he spoke.
‘Allow me to introduce myself Lieutenant Shill.’ By using rank Silencer let Shill know that he was fully informed on the situation and the disposition of the people in his company. ‘My name is Xanstin Silencer and I have come to offer you an alliance.’
‘An alliance with whom?’ Shill was still sceptical about Silencer but had enough respect for both Tset and Cholin to believe they would not bring in a man who had no use whatsoever. Behind Shill Artan slowly started growing impatient and quite agitated.

In the meantime Tset and Cholin had become the centres of small bubbles of people asking a myriad of questions and expressing their varying concerns. The two tried desperately to keep an eye on Silencer and Shill but, in effect, that was all they could do, the words passing between those two were all but inaudible to their ears.
It so happened that nobody even noticed the beginning of the upcoming fight. Only the Keeper, the lieutenant and his assistant were aware of what was going on. However, all the turmoil around them ended once Artan drew a weapon and aimed it at the Silencer.
The electricity of the moment was expressed by the sudden hush of silence that came over the crowd. Even Shill, normally one who could not be fazed by the most improbable of occurrences, was unable to find the words to continue the so decisively paused conversation.
‘Thank you.’ Silencer might as well have spoken through a megaphone for the amount of effect his words had.
Artan’s face distorted into a questioning smile, a smile he had put on when he had drawn his weapon and thought himself to have the upper hand. Noting Artan’s face Silencer chose to continue.
‘Now I won’t have to soil myself turning over every dirty rock, of which I’m sure there are many in here.’
‘Shut up!’ was Artan’s unimaginative response, ‘Sir, this man here can’t be trusted, I’m merely taking a precaution.’
Shill, still lost for words, slowly turned his head and found himself staring at his assistant wondering if he should fire or promote him for his initiative. It would all come down to who this Xanstin Silencer in actuality was.
‘Take it easy Artan, the man has made no hostile actions, nor has expressed any intent of doing so. Besides, I do not even think he is armed, he passed through the metal-detectors just fine a minute ago.’
Shill’s words fell on deaf ears, Artan’s face expressed a bitter reluctance to lower his weapon.
‘Now please Mr. Artan, I think we’ve both had a very busy day and…’
‘Shut up!’
Silencer’s face produced a disdainful look when he was interrupted. Here and there among the crowd people started to break sweat. Even more people were slowly backing off, leaving only Tset and Cholin behind in their wake and forming a wide circle around the five in the middle.
‘What’s come over you?’ Shill inquired.
The moment Artan looked aside at his superior officer Silencer shot into motion. In a complete vacuum of sound the Keeper whipped out his slender blade and thrust it headlong into the barrel of the gun, a tip of silver metal stuck out at Artan’s end of the weapon.

Panic broke out, weapons were drawn, training was forgotten and remembered alike. In a split second the room turned into a maelstrom of in- and decisiveness. Shill, Tset and Cholin, leapt back. The former to get himself out of blade’s reach, the latter two to try and rally the crowd into a semblance of organisation, they had full confidence in Silencer, though they couldn’t imagine why exactly.
Artan threw gun and blade aside and stepped into the opening, his left fist coming up towards Silencer. Wanting to prove a point the Keeper remained where he was. Upon the moment of impact he wished he hadn’t. Without any visual effort at all Artan lifted Silencer off the ground and thrust through to fling him bodily across the room. Those among the Black Wing who had remembered their training and had kept themselves in check now joined their comrades as the group splintered apart in blind panic, blind for all but Artan, who suddenly personified their worst fears. Only Shill, Tset, Cholin and three others, apart from Silencer, kept themselves composed.
‘Now that was an exceptionally rash act,’ Silencer gasped righting himself by aid of the wall.
‘Look who’s talking. I’m not the one barging into here wanting to set up an alliance that would endanger everything I stand for.’
‘And what might that be then?’ Silencer raised his rapier as he spoke, the gun was still sticking on to it.
‘Who do you think you’re scaring with that toothpick?’
Artan barrelled forward to get the point across, coarse laughter escaping his throat. A quick sidestep and an elegant thrust later Artan proved his point as he batted the rapier aside with the back of his arm. Knowing full well it could, and probably would, cost him a few ribs Silencer let Artan dig into him with his shoulder. Once again the wall welcomed a Keeper’s company, cracking in sheer delight. Artan’s laughter dies on his lips. Silencer smiled and sighed in relief.


After what seemed to be an age Wolf left his station and made his way to a transporter. Cat sighed with relief now that he knew how to get out of the Shell should he want to do so. What troubled him still was the lack of security measures there present. There weren’t going to be a lot of people with the ability to break into the Shell but still the fact that a pack of androids hadn’t come to apprehend him made him apprehensive. Totally alone now his nerves still made him sneak his way back to the datacores where he had memorised Wolf’s accesscodes.
The room was a lot alike to the vault-like libraries of the mercenary guilds, only in sheer size and advancement could one discern the difference. Once again the memories planted in Cat’s brain by Deadman proved to be invaluable as he simply drunk in the interface of the system as if he had been using it for years on end. Within moments confidential data was soaring over the screen, firing up the untapped recesses of Cat’s mind that contained facts he could before never have imagined to be true.
The dates noted in the records slowly receded into the past as Cat read back everything the Keepers had on record about him. Surveillance reports sent in by Banshee made up the vast majority of these files but here and there Reaper seemed to have sent in some or other spy, from a small group of trustees, to fill up the gaps in the net. With the dates going back Cat also realised he’d been watched for far longer than he had known before. Even the memories planted into his mind didn’t contain the outlining or the operation linked to the lines now flashing across his screen. Bewildered Cat kept on reading, digging ever deeper into his past. At one point he looked up at the date noted at the top of the screen and he shot back in dread.
‘I was twelve then…’
The words rolled from his lips in a cold whisper. It must’ve been a misprint or something, Cat couldn’t believe what he was reading but there it was, his entire youth spelled out as some kind of script. How he and Gorgon had stood among the ruins of their families’ kingdoms and abandoned them. Monthly reports of how the two of them had survived out on the streets, the sheer fortune of their survival explained away, the Keepers had always aided them in times of direst need, but only when concerning survival based on food. The kidnapping and near rape they had been subjected to was a mere side note. In red the words ‘Full Disengage’ shone in the border of the document.
His attempts to find the reason for all this came up blank. The checking of all the operations at the time produced only a list of names that bore no meaning to Cat. A search query into the reports filed an exact month before the last report Cat had read about himself yielded a single file that could be his. Upon giving the open command Cat was presented with the message ‘Authorisation Required’. Checking his login data showed that Wolf was a top level Keeper.
‘Someone must’ve filed this as a personal entry of sorts,’ Cat concluded after racking his brain, ‘But who?’

Deciding to examine the matter later Cat continued on his quest for knowledge to check back the history of Rat as well. And just as he had seen when calling up his own records his friend’s past came soaring over the screen in pointedly written reports. Most also delivered by Banshee. This time the reports weren’t completed by the efforts of mercenary spies but rather thieves who would later become Rat’s colleagues and occasional partners.
Once more upon reaching the very earliest years of Rat’s life the flow of information suddenly halted though the stream of reports hadn’t yet ended.
‘Authorisation Required,‘ Cat read out loud just before the words appeared on his screen.
No name or type of authorisation could be called up for the documents in question. If he wanted to know their contents he would have to go directly to the source. The one in charge, his face engraved upon the back of Cat’s mind, ever present as a wallpaper.
‘Raven.’
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Next chapter, Fifteen (Cat & Rat)

[Kabobward]

I really think throughout these last few chapters your writing has steadily improved. Maybe it's just in my head, though.

The plot is picking up nicely. The title of the next chapter makes it sound like it'll be a revealing one.

As for the late response, the past month or so I just haven't felt like coming online much with school starting and other things eating up large chunks of my time.

[Vortigar]

Everybody's been having problems with time as of late. The vacations coming around, ending, people have to reinvent their timeschedule. At least I got three chapters cleared over the summer, which is a lot more than I had expected, though less than I had hoped.

I've got my mind made up on how the story is going to run up to the end, but I'm unsure as to how much time it's going to take. After this one finishes I've no idea if I'll be writing anything else within any time soon, perhaps, I got some wicked ideas lying around, including my very first possible fanfics...

Ah well:
----------
Chapter Fifteen (Cat & Rat)

Silencer pushed Artan away from himself and the wall and once more situated his rapier between them with a deft flick as he gracefully hopped away from the wall himself as well. A trail of black liquid ran from Artan’s feet to the wall. A faint mark of the same liquid was upon Silencer’s left hand.
‘What are you?’ Silencer asked incredulously, his voice in complete disconcert with the cold look in his eyes.
Any possible answer form Artan’s side was put out of the question by a battery of weapons being cocked. Shill’s face revealed that he had already drawn his conclusions regarding Artan. Artan himself was fully aware of this and cursed the mistake he had made by attacking the Silencer. Among the crowd of Black Wing employees most still considered the Keeper to be the greater threat though. Xanstin Silencer’s ability to look casual and flamboyant twenty-four seven was being thoroughly tested.
‘Answer the question Artan!’ Shill ordered, knowing full well Artan probably didn’t care about relative rank.
‘I’m a bodyguard deployed to keep you safe Lieutenant Shill,’ came the reply. ‘This man here is part of an organisation calling themselves the Keepers and they are not to be trusted, rather feared. You and your men stand no chance of taking this man down, so I’ve been ordered to do it for you should the need arise.’
Shill glanced at Silencer for a second, making sure he hadn’t missed the horns on this supposed daemon’s head.
‘Wait a second,’ Silencer interrupted laughing. ‘Are you telling that you were ordered by some mysterious organisation to keep Shill safe from another mysterious organisation? I can’t say that would generate a lot of trust if I were in Shill’s shoes.’
‘Neither does that remark generate trust Mr. Silencer. I can think for myself very well, thank you,’ Shill mocked.
Just as Shill ended his sentence and Artan put his hands on his side as a gesture of contempt towards Silencer the Keeper shot into action. With the speed of a bullet the rapier lanced through Artan’s left shoulder with a loud snap. Artan’s eyes grew wide. Over a dozen sidearms opened fire.
A split second later Silencer found himself flying through the front window, ploughing five Black Wingers aside as he went. The crowd split apart as Artan moved off after Silencer, gaping mouths and staring eyes followed him as he simply walked through the windowsill and adjoining piece of wall.


Wrathbringer burst through a group of men from the Tiver and 4.11 Syndicates. Three snipers spun around in surprise as the giant man flung two of their compatriots their way. One of the snipers came sailing through the window, landing four floors down at Lunatic’s feet.
‘I told you not to follow me!’
Wrathbringer ground the face of one of the snipers through the floor, affording him an unusual view of a quite ordinary living room. The three members of the group on watch that still had enough presence of mind threw themselves at their assailant with knives at the ready. One sweep of a large fist found two of them bouncing back and a third ducking out of the way to get his jaw broken by a massive boot.
‘And you really thought I would listen?!’ Wrathbringer shouted back down at his colleague.
Lunatic shook his head and gunned down the third sniper who was still visible through the window.
‘I don’t think I did,’ lunatic murmured to himself just before slinging the rifle over his shoulder and running off to pick a fight with the next group of Syndicate members, hoping to find someone tied into Deadman’s affairs.
Upstairs, Wrathbringer rattled the clip of an automatic empty, ending the fight.
‘You should have used the gun stupid,’ he sagely advised the broken jawed man whom he’d borrowed the automatic from. ‘The snipers didn’t stand a chance against a man trained in close quarters, they’d have understood, believe me, I know about sacrifices.’
With a far more sincere face than the last surviving Syndicate member had thought Wrathbringer turned around and leapt out of the window. The crash resounding four floors down echoed through the empty streets for a quarter of a minute. The broken jawed man fainted shortly after from loss of blood, he wouldn’t wake up.

‘If you’re really bent on it, I’ll let you follow me.’
Wrathbringer halted, he was quite surprised to hear Lunatic’s voice coming from behind him.
‘You were really trying to get away from me before Loony? I thought you were better than that.’
Turning around he saw Lunatic standing leaning against a wall.
‘Very funny. You wouldn’t have a clue to Deadman’s whereabouts would you?’
‘Why on Earth do you think Raven’s pulled everyone together. If he’d have known that Deadman would be really dead now. That Harlequin found him back then was more because of Deadman’s stupidity than anything else.’
‘And see how Deadman’s stupidity turned out.’
‘Okay so maybe that was a poor choice of words, sue me. You still don’t want to turn back from this?’
‘What? Now that I know you’ll be watching my back? No way!’
Sagging his shoulders Wrathbringer made his way after Lunatic who’d just disappeared down an alley. The large man was feeling a lot better than he was letting on about this initiative. Even if things were to turn to smoke he would still feel better about himself for doing this. And if they were to find Deadman, well, that would just be a dream come true wouldn’t it? Not just for the two of them but for all of the keepers.


Careful study of the maps of the Shell had shown an inaccuracy. Following this lead Cat had ended up in front of a well camouflaged door. If he hadn’t known there was an entrance there he was positive he would never have noticed it. Running his fingers past the plate Cat found a small depression, inserting a digit and pushing around activated the door mechanism. A slight hiss resounded as the door pulled back and to the side. The lights flashed into life inside the newly revealed room. In the centre stood two wheeled tables. On top of them lay a person each with their feet towards Cat, covered to the neck by sheets. Around the two stood a battery of green vertical cylinders all topped with metal plates and attached to the ceiling by a vast array of cables. The ceiling itself was a machine of indefinable purpose.
Slowly Cat stumbled forward, minding his step over the clear silvery floor. A hiss behind him made him pull out his switchblade, only to see the door close behind him. As he turned back around the light switched from a bright white to a faint red, muted by the green of the cylinders lining the walls. It was then that Cat looked at the two people again, now standing at an angle sufficient to see their faces. Cat nodded sadly as he recognised the faces of Rat and Gorgon. He pocketed the switchblade.
‘What have they done to you?’ He asked in a whisper, turning his attention to the green cylinders.
These contained more people. All of them were fully dressed as if for a formal occasion, their suits were much alike to the protective black suits worn by most of the Keepers, but there was a slight difference that Cat couldn’t really lay his finger on.
Cat moved in closer, hoping to find plates or tags to identify the people in the cylinders.
‘Nothing,’ was Cat’s conclusion as he stepped back from one of the cylinders.
‘Not entirely true.’
Cat raised his arms as he heard a weapon being raised behind him. Smoothly, not to arouse suspicion, Cat turned around and saw Gorgon aiming a tubular rifle at him. He immediately dropped his hands.
‘You had me scared there for a second Aïsha,’ Cat said, followed by a sigh of relief.
‘Keep them up, joker.’
The former Aïsha ‘Gorgon’ fields slid out from under the sheets, revealing herself to be completely naked apart from the sleek weapon cradled in her arms, her finger jittery on the trigger.

‘I know not of this Aïsha you speak of. My name is Alyssa Caress, and you are trespassing.’
Her voice was sharp and commanding, much alike to what Cat remembered of it, only the words didn’t fit. Fazed, Cat stepped back, his legs were starting to feel weak. There had to be an explanation for this. Of course!
‘I don’t know exactly what they’ve done to you but you are no longer yourself Aïsha. Like you I’ve been through some sort of brainwashing process, luckily I was able to escape before the operation was completed…’
‘Wait a second,’ She interrupted. ‘How do you know you escaped before the operation was completed? On a second note how do you know it is you speaking the truth instead of me?’
Cat stood nailed to the ground in confusion. Was there any way he could be sure that he was thinking was right?
‘I wouldn’t have been chased down by the people that had brainwashed me if the operation was successful. Of course that could all be a ruse, but why be so elaborate about something like this? They could’ve done anything they’d have wanted, said anything they’d wanted.’
‘Perhaps you, the original you, could only fight with conviction if he was sure he was instead working for the other side. Maybe they herded you into some sort of underdog complex to turn you into a wild cat, a loose cannon, if you will. You have no idea of what you were or what you might have been.’
‘Stop it! I won’t have you victimise me. I have my goals set straight out before me, my vision is clear, whether it be someone else’s vision or not. I’ve seen files from too many different sources to start doubting myself now. I’m not here to talk about me but rather about you!’
‘Ok, let’s talk about me,’ Alyssa intoned willingly as she ran a finger from her neck, down between her breasts, over her superbly trained flat belly, to the nether regions of her naked body.
Cat swallowed as he followed the gentle and enticing gesture. Lowering her weapon, Alyssa came forward, walking as elegantly as possible. There was no way Cat could keep himself from noticing every timid sway of her hips. The next thing he knew the rifle came swinging wildly forward, catching him in the stomach, causing him to double up and collapse at a pair of delicately formed feet.
‘Men,’ Alyssa stated disdainfully.


Silencer waited for as long as he could before unfolding like a spring and bouncing to his feet. He hadn’t expected the traitor in the Black Wing to give himself up so easily, nor had he thought Deadman would’ve placed such an obviously powerful underling of his into such a dangerous position. At the other hand Artan’s move had made perfect sense, there was only one way to stop the alliance from forming and that was Silencer’s death. A notion the Keeper wasn’t too pleased to have occurred to him. Silencer took a deep breath and stared at the walking tank moving toward him.
The keeper bounded forward in a fleche, the leaping attack, jabbing his rapier forward at the top of his jump, making sure his dead weight would follow the attack on the descent. Artan was quick but not enough to get out of the way of this sudden assault and he found himself impaled once more, this time through the chest instead of the shoulder. Another line of black liquid started running from his body, drenching another part of his shirt.
Before Artan could react Silencer was already back out of reach.
‘Try that again,’ Artan implored innocently.
Silencer threw his head back, flipping his half long hair up and away from his face.
Seemingly undisturbed by either of his wounds Artan barrelled forward, his arms held wide. His opposite number glanced around quickly and found a possible surprise escape. Waiting for the last second, Silencer leapt backward up against a wall and launched himself over Artan’s head. At least, that was the idea, in practice he was smashed sideways from the air in mid-flight.
Recovering from the fall Silencer tried to iron out his own reasoning about the fact that he was sure he was out of reach. Artan’s face revealed nothing but a dull, seemingly stupid, expression. Nothing at all like the victorious grin he had expected to find there.
‘This might go on all day,’ Silencer announced. ‘Why don’t we just call it quits, I promise I’ll let you walk away in peace.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Artan grinned with an all but amused tone in his voice.
‘Your choice, big one.’

Silencer sheathed his rapier and threw off his coat. Underneath was an array of small guns and grenades, beside the blade’s sheath. A few clicks later the Keeper had unbuckled all the belts and bandoleers holding these weapons and tossed them aside as well. Artan looked on in silence as the Keeper shook his muscles loose and assumed a new fighting position, his arms and legs held at exact right angles, as if he were made of wood and couldn’t bend at all.
Artan shook his head and charged forward once more. Silencer’s reaction was crashing straight into the charge and delivering a series of elbow, knee and open hand blows that found Artan shuffling backward. The onlooking Black Wing employees’ eyes grew wide with excitement and amazement as Artan’s shirt fell apart and fluttered from his body, revealing a series of small wounds that started issuing forth more of the strange black liquid.
‘What is this?’ Artan cried out.
A reply in words didn’t come, instead Silencer followed up with an offensive from his side. His hands and feet bolted about Artan’s body, the sound of the impacts was all but unheard and if any had the knowledge to notice they’d know that Silencer wasn’t delivering his blows with force but rather with speed and exact placement. Each time an attack connected a wound was left behind at the point of impact and a small puncture mark opened up on the other side of Artan’s body.
Silencer’s face was no longer drawn into the careless smile he had worn during the earlier stages of the fight. It was replaced with a grim look of severe exertion and concentration. Without a single blow from Artan’s side the second flurry of light blows ended and Silencer made a single step back, allowing Artan room to fall to his knees, which he promptly did. Silencer tilted his head slightly and stared into Artan’s eyes from a diagonal angle, an air of superiority hung about Silencer’s expression as he lay his left hand on Artan’s forehead and stretched the adjoining arm.
‘You’ve lost hydraulic pressure haven’t you?’
Artan didn’t even have the power in himself to speak. A pool of black liquid kept growing and growing on the ground between his legs, slowly spreading out to create some sort of mock shadow that made the two standing amid it stand out in contrast even more. Artan’s mouth fell open and a gurgling sound could be heard. A blotch of black liquid ran down Artan’s lips.
‘I noticed it at the beginning of our fight, you know,’ Silencer started his explanation. ‘I distinctly know the feeling of reverberation that is created by metal searing through bone. And you haven’t a good bone in your body.’ Silencer laughed at his own pun before regaining his stern expression and continuing.
‘You see, there isn’t any blood in your veins either, and interrogation would be a waste of time.’
The end of his speech was marked by the straining of the muscles in his left arm. A tiny, tout click could be heard and a blade the length of an arm came shooting through Artan’s skull, almost touching the ground at the far end. Artan’s body slumped together in a black gooey mess, only held up by Silencer’s arm. The surrounding people gaped in sheer disbelief.
‘Don’t worry, I didn’t pierce the hard-drive,’ Silencer assured, looking at Shill.
----------
Next up:
Cat's Ex

ps. you remember that chapter in Corsair 1 called Rat's Ex, I thought it would be fun pointing back a little... Weird kind of fun, but pointless none-the-less, as it should be, neh?

[Vortigar]

It seems interest has left me somewhat stranded these last few weeks around. Don't think I'm giving this up yet though. I will smite down these demons even if it will be the last thing I do!

ie. I AM finishing this, no matter what...

---------
Chapter Sixteen (Cat’s Ex)

‘I’m sorry,’ Lunatic said to himself silently.
A part of him still hoped Wrathbringer had heard him but he knew this was something he had to do on his own. Too many times others had suffered for him, because of him. Verian Lunatic looked up at the bleak sky. The evening was slowly falling but the sun still clung to a corner of the canvas. Streaking beams of light shot through and past the weirdly assorted clouds above. Huge plumes, created by burning out buildings and vehicles, billowed through the sky in a falsely tuned waltz. The war had polluted more than just the ground, the sky was also a victim, as well as the souls of the men below. And when it’d come to a man who’d been named Lunatic it seemed to have cleansed him. Never before had he seen his goal before him so clearly. Never before had he been so confident. Never before had he been so doubtful of himself. The confidence was not something he was used to.
Verian smiled, that confidence would rouse doubt. His smile broadened, the weirder fact is the other way around, that doubt should raise confidence. Yet within him it felt as such. He had always been used to jumping into the deep without a safety net. Maybe that’s why he’d tricked Wrathbringer and shook him off while his guard was down. No, it hadn’t been the reason. It was because he’d felt reborn, the confidence he’d never had was now his and he wasn’t planning on sharing it with anyone. He felt like a new man. As cliché as it might sound he felt reborn. He’d heard of revelations like these, he’d seen it on tv, read of it in books, but he’d never believed a word of it. After he’d woken up from his stupor caused by Harlequin’s death he’d felt different. Talking to Wrathbringer had brought the eventual realisation of the truth.
Silently and slowly Verian crawled out from the basement through the small slit that had been opened up at the side of the street by a shell or missile. Wrathbringer was nowhere in sight. The thin Keeper took a deep breath and shot off across the street. His target, the one Black Wing outpost that had been uncovered and seized by the Syndicate forces.

Herak Wrathbringer looked around himself in dismay and disappointment. There was no way Raven would stand for this. He knew he had to find Lunatic again, and soon, or else. He didn’t like considering the possibilities that lay that way so he stopped himself from pursuing that line of thought any further. What bothered him the most was the fact that of all the Keepers he was the only one to have ever really connected with Lunatic. Of course Wrathbringer had acquired the position of peacekeeper among the lot for other reasons, mainly keeping Wolf and Raven off each other’s throats, but Lunatic’s case had always been his personal favourite achievement. If it could be called that. Inside of him something had broken when Lunatic had tricked him. Raven would’ve called it betrayal but Wrathbringer was not one to think in such terms.
He sighed and set out towards the nearest access into the Shell, both to use it and disable it. The moment he took a step he stopped dead however. A band of vicious-looking men in drab brown coats came soaring through the street around the corner. He stepped up and peered around to see them vanishing into the distance. They were moving faster than he’d ever seen Lunatic go. Wrathbringer’s dismal mood came to an abrupt end and was replaced by a feeling of total relief, mixed with a hint of dread. There was only one possibility left open in his mind and he would follow it to the end.


Silencer slammed a fist down unto the desk. ‘Artan’s mind’ had yielded nothing at all. As Silencer pulled his fist back to run his fingers through his hair a dent was revealed in the smooth metal surface.
‘What was he?’ Tset asked calmly, hoping to solve the problem from the other end.
Silencer pushed off from the desk. His chair swivelled and rolled back, stopping a foot from the table Tset was sitting at. The Keeper took the Black Wing operative in with his eyes and leaned his elbow on the table.
‘He was what we tend to call a Golem. A mechanical structure built around a human body. It doesn’t exactly fit with the actual definition of a golem but,’ Silencer stopped to think for a second, ‘around here, who’s going to notice?’
Tset stared back at the Keeper incredulously not knowing, like almost all others on the planet, what the history of his own world was completely. The history records were complete of course, ranging from the stone age to the modern day, but almost all of it was invented. Written up by the first Keepers wen the mission was launched.
‘But why him and not Hawk?’ Silencer wondered aloud, causing Tset to raise an eyebrow.
‘Because Hawk was in direct contact with Stalker,’ He reasoned on.
‘That would mean that the hard drive wasn’t the only thing of interest.’
Silencer bolted off his chair and into the room where he had disassembled Artan. A number of Black Wing engineers were still nosing through the components before them, totally astonished by the level of technology that had been among them all this time. Silencer made quick work of scaring them out the door and locking it behind them by the quick appliance of a wooden chair under the doorknob. Meticulously Silencer started rummaging through the Artan’s bloody parts once again, hoping to find a clue about how to track down others like him.


Cat grabbed the feet before him and sent his former wife slamming onto the floor. Both shot up from the ground like lightning. His first priority was to get rid of the odd looking rifle in his opponent’s possession so he grabbed it with both hands. This not so well thought through move awarded him a quick succession of a jab to the gut and a knee to the lower ribs. Letting his legs slump out from under him Cat forced Alyssa to relinquish the rifle, unless she wanted to go down on the floor on top of her opposite, where his superior strength would become a far bigger problem than it already was.
He rolled back and raised himself to his feet once more. He pointed the rifle at Alyssa who came walking forward defyingly. A moment later he realised why that was, the rifle was nothing like anything he’d ever used before as a weapon. At best he could’ve used it like a club since he couldn’t find anything resembling a trigger. In his moment of short lived victory, albeit at a cost, and surprise Cat once more got slammed off his feet. As she had done before him he also discarded the rifle and whipped out the metre long switchblade he prized so much. Alyssa Caress, leapt back in shock, knowing she’d have to find a way around the blade and soon.

‘Please, you have to give this up,’ Cat implored. ‘We’ll find a way to work this out, one way or another.’
‘You don’t get it do you?’ Alyssa blurted out angrily. ‘I have a job to do here, and you are not someone who can dissuade me from it, no matter what kind of mad story you come up with!’
With a sad look in his eyes Cat rose to his feet, holding the sword in his hands between the two of them.
‘And where is the trust you have to give one you want to convince?’ Alyssa joked grimly.
She stepped back slowly, settling onto the empty bier, her hand creeping toward Rat’s body, allowing her to lean on her arm. Slowly, Cat lowered the blade a little, but just a little, he wanted to believe she’d given herself up but simply could not believe that the Gorgon he’d known would ever grant him victory so easily. Even when the two could be considered a couple, even after they had married, she’d never given him anything without a solid struggle.
‘The Keepers are in trouble, Deadman has proved himself a far greater threat than was originally planned for. The contingencies built for his possible defection have all failed and now he’s out there, poised to strike back at them,’ Cat started explaining.
Alyssa stared at him blankly, she hadn’t been told anything she hadn’t yet known.
‘I personally am one of those contingencies, frankly, the last that hasn’t fully failed yet. I’ve no love for the Keepers and what they’ve put me through but I do believe Deadman is the greater evil in this picture. He can’t be reasoned with and will put the entire world at risk to have his revenge.’
She pulled up the sheet, that was previously over her, to cover herself, settled herself on the bier.
‘So you want my cooperation to help you take him down. You would ally yourself with Raven, even indirectly?’
Cat was taken aback by the hop Alyssa had taken forward in her reasoning. He was hoping not to have to answer that question, hoped not to have to try himself at weaving his voice into a believable pattern.
‘If it must, then I will,’ Cat answered eventually.
‘And what about him?’ Alyssa continued her questioning, laying her hand upon Rat’s covered body.

Cat thought for a moment. With Gorgon having been brainwashed into Alyssa he wasn’t a bit sure about what could’ve happened to Rat. He knew his new designation was Jeremiah Stalker but how much had they tampered with him? Could he tell her that he was unsure what he was planning to do concerning Rat? Or would it be best to be straightforward and say he was here to get him out of the Keepers if he would let him?
‘That depends on who he wakes up as.’ Cat thought that would be the most diplomatic answer.
‘Oh, a wise guy too?’
‘Possibly.’
‘When not then?’
‘When the questions can be answered straightly.’
‘You attacking me?’
‘Probably.’
‘I’m starting to see how I could’ve liked, even loved you.’
Alyssa twisted her body under the sheet of fabric, producing multiple snaking coils of threads roving over her body. Cat couldn’t help but watch, enticed, again. He remained silent, wisely. Time slowly ticked forward, both parties waiting for the other to make a move. Cat, still holding his sword, didn’t lower his weapon much, resting his muscles after the previous explosions of activity. Alyssa simply laid a lithe arm over the sheets over her side, her eyes ever half-directed at Cat, tempting him. Cat raised an eyebrow, opened his mouth to start a sentence but couldn’t come off the starting blocks as Alyssa suddenly sprang forward, the sheet previously laid out over Rat in her right hand.
Cat shot back, avoiding as much of the cloth as he could. Her hand connected with his left arm despite this. A large red stain was in the sheet as it whirled away from Cat. She had taken Rat’s knife from his belt, it was hidden somewhere in the cloth.
Cat switched his grip on the haft of his blade, the pieces instantly came apart with five distinct clicks, wired together in a whip. He lashed out just past Alyssa’s body, slicing the bier she half-sat upon into pieces. Shards of both sheets fell to the floor. She wasn’t taken aback though, she knew putting distance between him and her would be to his advantage. A split second later Cat found himself pulling the pieces of blade back together into a sword and blocking the, now visible, knife jab.

Both of them froze as the knife’s handleguard snagged behind Cat’s sword. Alyssa, who’d leapt forward to deliver her latest attack, found her face uncomfortably close to Cat’s. He on the other hand didn’t mind, it meant words would be harder to dodge.
‘You know you can’t get out of this situation without giving me a chance to take you down,’ Cat opened.
‘You know you can’t bring yourself to kill me,’ Alyssa countered, mimicking Cat’s intonation.
‘I would never be able to kill Gorgon, and you’re not her,’ Cat found himself at the verge of screaming the words out, just to imprint his words upon his own mind so he would act after them.
Alyssa merely smiled and leaned back, tilting the pair of them slightly toward her side. Cat found himself with his footing so far on the edge of his balance that he would never be able to regain his stance should she choose to attack. He knew clearly well what she was trying to do.
‘I will kill you,’ Cat said, emphasising the word will.
‘If you must, then you will,’ Alyssa shot back enigmatically, using his own words.
‘Please, this doesn’t have to be.’
Cat felt desperation crawling through his skull, certain that he would be forced to make the call, choose between his own life or hers.
‘Oh, yes, this is exactly what must be.’
‘Why?’
Alyssa smiled, Cat’s voice sounded so fragile. Inside of her a heart was beating so furiously it could explode at any moment. His eyes were still filled with affection. She remembered his soft words, his hard edge, the do’s and don’ts. A tear crept down her left cheek. The captured essence of Aïsha ‘Gorgon’ Fields was banging on the door of the cell, the hinges close to their breakpoint. Both of them knew it was now or never, a last slam would free her from this prison.
And thus she acted, shunting Cat’s blade to the side, unlocking the dagger from its hold to the light metal of the switchblade. Cat pulled himself back onto firm footing, following the dagger in Alyssa’s hands with his eyes, seeing her bracing it and starting it’s thrust forward.
Cat focussed his mind and pushed his doubts away, reversed his sword’s momentum simply by the pure force of his right arm. A moment before impact he looked up at Alyssa to make sure her attack wouldn’t be the end of him. Then and there he saw what he had hoped to see for so long. Too late. With his sword buried in her body he recognised the glint in her sharp green eyes.
‘Gorgon?’
She looked up at Cat, a sad look enveloping her, dropped the dagger.


Raven locked the door of the portal-room behind him. Matters were coming to culmination and he would not be left outside the action this time. Long enough he’d planned approaches, designated workloads and stood in the shadows of fools. No one would be able to finish this if it wasn’t him. Deadman had issued forth his final challenge: ‘Find me and take me down.’ And that was just what he planned to do. At least, the latter half of the challenge, the first half would be up to the others.
To his own surprise Raven found himself hoping that as many of the current Keepers as possible would survive. After this he would rescind his position as Keeper. Whether he would have to die for it he didn’t care anymore, if that would be his fate than so be it. He would no longer resist. After confronting Deadman he guessed there would be little he could do but accept the judgement of others.
‘I’d leave if another would take up this burden
‘But ‘twas I who was called for to carry this weight
‘And ‘twill be me to end this sorrow laden quest
‘Lest another take my place and feel my fate.’
A smile came over his face as the words came to him. Words written down by one of the so many who’d come before him. A more artistic mind than his who’d taken up the banner and carried it forth. He merely hoped his reign would be remembered as a fruitful one.
----------
Next
17. Search

[Kabobward]

ie. I AM finishing this, no matter what...

At this point, you were probably thinking I had given up on reading this...

You really do keep improving on how you present your characters with each chapter. There's a better balance in character interaction, and moving the plot forward. That was one thing that was really lacking before.

Things seem to be coming to a climax, yet I really don't know what's going to happen. It makes things a lot more interesting. This has been consistent throughout your stories, though.

[Vortigar]

Imagine my surprise to see this thread on the first page!

I'll bump this thread back up once again myself as well...

Well actually I had indeed given up hope you were still around. But I also knew there are some other A4'ers waiting for this fragger to be completed (they're keeping their printers warm for me ^_^). But as my only posting reader full commendation still go out to you Kabob.

Since the beginning of Corsair and especially CS2 I've had a bucketload of little secrets and details that I wanted to share. And I sprinkle them around with casual frequency. And it's indeed so that quite a bit of them have been saved up for the last few chapters. So having an idea where things are going without knowing all the facts could be rather problematic ^_^

btw. That's something I don't really enjoy when reading, to know everything beforehand. So I've taken special care to avoid it...
-----------
Chapter Seventeen (Search)

The going had been way too easy. Every step of the way Lunatic had expected to be ambushed. So far he had seen everything coming, defused situations before they even occurred. Simple work of evading the wrong angles towards the lookouts and jump into the fray where the enemy was usually too confused to react properly. Halfway down the track he’d received a message from Wolf, detailing the gathering of the various syndicates. Warning for the fact they now fought under a single banner, Deadman’s banner. To him it would make no difference, all alone with no clearance codes to relay everybody would be after him anyway. But that was the way he liked it, how it had always been. Once again the painful look in Wrathbringer’s face came to his mind. He’d betrayed him, personally, in the gravest way. Would he have forgiven him if their situation were reversed? Probably not. Still, Lunatic didn’t think he was coming out of this alive, didn’t hope for it either.
A painful shock, the dull impact against the wall, came as a surprise to him. Not many would’ve been able to pull that off. He shook his head and calmly rose, making sure he kept his enemy in the corner of his eye, so as not to be surprised once again. From Wrathbringer’s reports a description that fitted this man came to his mind. ‘Lizard, I must say I am impressed.’
His opposite flicked his head back and forth slightly, if he’d have stuck out his tongue then he’d have looked exactly like a sort of iguana.
‘Most are.’ Came his reply finally
‘Not for long.’
Lunatic’s words were swallowed up by the sound of him bursting forward. Lizard didn’t move, merely stared at his opponent, in that instant. He knew he stood no chance of evading Lunatic’s attack so he didn’t even try. Upon impact an electrical current discharged from Lizard into the Keepers body, freezing up the muscles for a second. Lizard used this interrupt to hammer his foe to the ground with a single well placed, empowered smash on the back.
A moment later Lunatic was already back on his feet, before Lizard could follow up on his attack. With an inhuman flexibility and speed he’d slithered off the floor and back into a standing position.

Originally Lunatic’s madness had manifested itself physically as a detachment between mind and body. After treatment by the Keepers this detachment had been turned into a weapon. He could no longer feel pain, nor was his mind equipped to come up with the notion of fear. In this lurked a danger of course and so he was also fitted with numerous implants that combined to form a full body recovery system. In effect any damage Lunatic sustained internally would regenerate at the speed of light, relatively in medical terms. As an extra precaution his skin had been wholly replaced with a material that would not tear or burn. Severe injury could still incapacitate or kill Lunatic, but it had become a whole lot more difficult. As a side effect all these enhancements allowed Lunatic to push his body over the limits of its tolerance, his internals automatically repairing him from the inside out so that he could push just that bit farther next time. Over the course of the decades he’d turned into what could be called a superior human, but only in physical terms. Were they to remove his ‘upgrades’ and set him upon the world stage as an athlete he would break any and all records set in any and all fields.

The next attack Lunatic knew something was wrong with his body. Prepared for the Lizard’s possible re-try of the same tactic he made sure he attacked in such a way as to not let himself open upon striking. This time Lizard made sure the attack didn’t land at all though. He created a discharge just before they made contact, charging both their bodies with negative energy, forcing them apart like two like poles of a magnet. Since Lunatic was going for a quick escape his footing wasn’t prepared for this so he found himself flung up and away against the far wall. He glanced around quickly and found what he was searching for, a high powered rifle used by one of the snipers who were now just so much refuse of skin and bone.


‘Halt!’
Raven recognised Wolf’s voice and obeyed, stopping in the middle of a deserted street in a war zone.
‘Why did you come down here? Now there’s no one in the command center.’
‘The Shell is occupied by exactly those that should.’ It were Raven’s thoughts, he didn’t translate them to words. He had not expected this. It’d probably been hope that had fuelled his expectations, blinded him for the eventuality.
‘Well? You don’t know, do you?’ Wolf spat with venom in his voice.
Raven remained silent. He needed time to get his thoughts in order. Let Wolf vent his pent up anger, then he’d put it right, and know if it could be put right at all.
‘You, who has always seen himself as our leader. You have no clue as to what you’re going to do. Time and time again you’ve acted so superior while you’re not a iota better than the rest of us, either one of us!’ His last remark was reference to Lunatic, Harlequin, Stalker and Caress who he’d only used as weapons in Wolf’s mind.
‘Your streak of superiority ends here Raven.’ Wolf’s voice had turned ice cold.
He pulled out a gun. Raven stared at it silently, unmoved. Recognised it. The weapon the Nutcracker had always carried. The last time it was fired it had taken down a five story building, front to back.
‘Not so talkative now are you?’ It was the first hint at humour that passed between them.

‘I came down here to end this.’ Raven finally conceded and spoke.
‘You’re what?’ Wolf stammered in outrage, then composed himself and went on. ‘Keeping yourself to yourself all the time. Never wanting to dirty your own hands. You’ve dragged the rest of us through the slime in the meantime! Did you ever realise that over the last century, hm?’
Raven knew it full well, but to say it would mean nothing now. He also knew that Wolf wouldn’t back down from a challenge once issued. The moment Wolf had pulled a weapon on him he’d made clear his final intent. Raven gave himself very little chance to dissuade him from that course of action.
‘And throughout this you always kept your distance. Ever standing aloof. And now, now!’ Wolf was barely controlling the rage in his voice. ‘Now you come down from your throne to decree that you’ll handle it personally. Declaring that you’ll fix everything. Don’t make me laugh Raven, you’ve no idea of the world down here…’
‘Oh, shut up!’ Raven thundered, unable to remain silent through this last tirade. ‘Of course I know what I’ve been putting you through, you think me blind?’
‘And that’s the worst part of it,’ Wolf interjected. ‘You’ve always known. Did it bother you too much to explain the matters then? Did you ever think of ‘putting things right’ before?’
‘I have my reasons Wolf. I truly am on my way to crack this case wide open. Believe me, you’ll never have to lay eyes on me again after this.’
Raven cursed himself for his last statement, he knew what Wolf would read into it.
‘Do you think you’re getting away that easily?’
Raven nodded invisibly, he’d expected that one to come up. The blunt statement made them hold their voice for a full minute.

‘You’ve seen me take a shot in the face and come away clean. Do you think you stand a better chance with that?’ Raven had given up, he had grown tired of trying to console the other. Wolf had noticed there was no doubt in Raven’s voice. He also knew he had been called out to play his hand.
‘This is no ordinary pistol.’ Wolf hinted slyly.
‘Neither was Harlequin’s.’ Raven matched Wolf’s intonation.
Once again the silence set in. Only to be broken by a loud crack before Raven shot forward and lifted Wolf off the ground by his throat. The fired shell fell to the ground, far from harmless, digging it’s way into the concrete. As the ground started to stir beneath them their mutual silence continued. Wolf’s eyes had grown to the size of teacups in astonishment. Raven was weeping inside himself, wondering why it had to end like this.
‘I’m sorry, but after this it’ll either be me or the next. You won’t survive the month either way.’
Wolf wondered at the strange way Raven had pronounced the word ‘next’. As if he was alluding to a certain person instead of a vague concept like the next one to come along on Wolf’s path. For a moment Wolf also wondered at the rare clarity that pervaded his mind. There was not a shred of doubt, hatred or self pity left. Then all thought floated away as Raven snapped Wolf’s head back, breaking the neck, severing the primary nervebundle at the base of the neck.

Raven continued on his way, cursing himself. Cursing the world. Cursing his curse. Why did it have to end like this? Why did it always?
Behind him the shell had dug it’s way down into the foundation of the buildings to either side of the battleground of the two. The tiny thing spent the last of its considerable energy grinding essential parts of the construction into dust. As the supports gave way under the ground a loud roar came up, heard by no one but Raven. The two buildings on either side leaned into one another slowly. Large pieces of stone, glass and metal came sailing down between the two as they settled into one another, burying Wolf’s body, in his hands still lay the weapon that had been dug up from the debris of a five story building before. It seemed to be it’s sad fate to be buried, forgotten and rediscovered.


I pressed my hand firmly on his chest and administered the shot. The effect was immeadiate. Rat’s body started convulsing violently. I had read that he would, but it still came as a surprise. I was never much of a medic. His eyes flew wide open and he stared at me. He couldn’t believe his own eyes, literally, and shoved me out of the way. With a wild glare he tried to sit up. His eyes rolled away as nausea overtook him. For the moment he held still, body at a forty-five degree angle from the table. The muscles in his lower torso were rigid. They gleamed in the half light. His awakening had caused him to start sweating profusely, spreading a sheen over his entire body. With a moan Rat completed the motion and pulled up his body into a full sitting position. I let my breath escape. For some time we simply were there, him sitting, myself standing. His head was leaning limply forward, chin almost upon his chest, if his relaxed muscles allowed no further progress. We just breathed and while I was getting more and more agitated and expectant he was forcing his breath to slow down. When I thought for the third time to take the initiative and speak up he lifted his head. He turned to me, and for another moment I found him staring at me, wide-eyed.

‘You’re dead.’
His voice was shaky, he could manage little more than a mumble. I concluded he was talking to himself. He stared at his right hand for a second, grabbed it with his left and squeezed, afirming my suspicions.
‘No dream.’
The words almost formed a question but the intonation veered from the posing form at the last instance. I held silent, not wishing to break his own reassertion into the land of the living. I was still holding the long needle I had used to administer the adrenaline in my hand. I think my knuckles had started to grow white clutching it.
He looked about himself, the row of slightly greenlit tubes surrounding us, the door behind him, almost invisible in with its matching silver colour in the wall. The sheets lying in tatters on the floor caught his attention for a while, then his eyes turned to the sheets covering the lower half of his own body and, lastly, the bier that he found himself sitting upon. After that he lifted his gaze back up again and stared past me. At first I didn’t get it but then I realised he was looking at one of the tubes in particular, the one that had been empty only half an hour ago.

‘Gorgon?’
I sighed, breaking the silence he had let after speaking. His train of thought was janked to a stop and he set his eyes on me. My response, to his question had been involuntary. I was so relieved to ear him using that name that I couldn’t stop myself. We gazed at one another, uncertainty filling the air. This time I was the first to break the silence that had refound its mastery for the moment.
‘Gorgon, or Carress as she called herself, attacked me. I was forced to interr her into that thing to keep her alive in the end.’ To this I added: ‘I’m still not sure if she’ll make it.’
‘You’re really here.’
It was a statement not a question, a sign that he was starting to trust his own senses again instead of doublechecking everything, which I had felt he was doing while looking around slowly.
‘Are you real?’
I was barely able to contain my laughter as I saw the strange look on his face when he asked that. But the gravity of the situation forced me to cool my head.
‘Yes, I’m here and I’m myself.’
I had no idea why I had added that last bit, it sounded so stupid. Where had my sharp mind wandered off to? Rat wasn’t the least fazed, he merely smiled.
‘Where have you been?’
‘Ask Deadman for the details. He nursed me back to life in a device a lot like one of these things.’ I indicated the tubes around us as i said it.
‘What’s been going on?’

I had been unsure what to answer then but I explained what I knew. All through my little briefing I found myself doubting his identity. Knowing what had been done to Gorgon, could I be sure Rat hadn’t undergone similar treatment? On the other hand even Carress had called him Rat a while back, which could be seen as a good sign or an elaborate ruse. Well, maybe not elaborate but knowing the modus operandi of the Keepers I couldn’t be too far off.
‘Deadman’s still on the loose. The Keepers have pulled in the Black Wing and the Mercenary Guilds to aid the military to break the deadlock in the Corsair conflict as some have started calling it down there.’
‘Ah!’ Rat exclaimed. ‘So we’re Shell-side.’
Was that how it was called?
‘Yes,’ I continued. ‘Lunatic seems to have gone off on his own. Everything after that is unknown to me. I checked the Shell files a while back to get the fullest scoop possible.’
Rat simply nodded and smiled again. I was surprised I was thinking of him simply as Rat instead of some other designation. I had no other designation of him really, just a couple of names that I couldn’t tie to people, he had to be one of them.
‘They tried to strip my identity too.’ He indicated Gorgon. ‘Called me Stalker.’
Well that was one puzzle solved.
----------
next chappy:
Lackeys

[Kabobward]

I'll make sure to check this more often, and not let a month go buy before posting next time.

Besides that this may have been the shortest chapter I've read from you, there's not much else to comment on.

[Vortigar]

It seems you just came round with a day to spare this time...

Cause here's #next...

Oh yeah... Merry Christmas! -_-'
----------
Chapter Eighteen (Found)

Silencer slammed the door open. Twenty heads turned to see the Keeper pace through the room frantically, his face contorted in the rictus of an inventor on the brink of screaming eureka at the top of his lungs. He passed the wondering faces and barged into the command room. A large map of the current progress of the operation dominated the room by simple right of it’s size, it covered three fourth of the surface of the chamber. After slamming this next door closed with deliberate loudness he’d gotten everybody’s attention there too.
‘I need a Corsair-wide sweep. Let the grid pinpoint this signature.’ Silencer held up a disk and looked around the room, hoping to find an expression that’d tell him who to hand the data to.
The grid was the pride and joy of the Black Wing. A global net of radars, emitters, scanners and receivers that allowed them to monitor a wide variety of matters anywhere. It was mainly used for tracking down radio transmissions with questionable content. Of course the existence of the grid was one of the closest guarded secrets of the organisation. Even within PC there were only a few privileged men and women who knew. Upon first activation of the grid the Black Wing had been able to locate and destroy all the elements that made up the command structure of the illustrious Mars Syndicate. That tale remained forever as the Wing’s greatest success.
‘Who do you think you are?’ the watch commander barked back at Silencer.
‘Just do it!’
Silencer’s barking didn’t fall well with the commander at all. The man was about to raise his voice a timbre higher then before when it dawned on him that the last order hadn’t come from Silencer at all. He leaned a little to the left and spotted Shill who’d just peeped through the door. The lieutenant had made damn sure the door wouldn’t be slammed in his face with the force with which it was last closed.
‘But sir the grid is a secret, specialised and very precise piece of equipment. We’d need to calculate the exact parameters required from the input he’ll give to make sure the net will be fine enough and…’
‘Oh ye of little faith,’ Silencer meted out sardonically. ‘One, you’ve never used settings like these before because instead of communications you’ll be looking for a compound. Two, the exact settings and input are contained within this disk.’
‘But how?’
‘Let’s just say the designer of the grid and I share some common interests and we got to talking, and we’ll leave it at that.’
Silencer tossed the disk at the commander who plucked it out of the air, baffled. He handed it to one of the aides sitting at a console to his left.
‘He’s right sir,’ the man said after skimming through the contents. ‘It’s a gridset.’
‘Told you.’


Lunatic pulled the rifle from the floor and swung it up to point at Lizard. The opposition froze dead in his tracks, concentration lined his face. Calmly Lunatic rose from the floor, a few of his bones snapping and a couple of joints protesting as he went. Casually he leaned back against the wall. A broad smile tore onto his face.
‘Prepare.’
Lunatic’s spoken word coincided with the roaring of the rifle in his hands. Lizard had been preparing all along, flailing all the energy he could manage to oust in one jolt against the shell. The metal slug slowed to a snail’s pace, floated upward for a second, and then lazily dropped to the floor. Totally confused by the myriad of magnetic fields it twirled downward in a few weird arcs.
‘Shit.’ Lunatic’s voice sounded far too dry to signify any amount of distress.
He chambered the next shell and fired again. Lizard used the little time he had to force himself forward into the residue of the magnetic fields he’d created to stop the bullet. When the second shot rang he flipped the charge of his own body, causing him to be catapulted forward as if from a slingshot. The bullet twirled forward, ricocheting off the magnetics, flung into and straight through Lizard’s body. The lurch forward also became the first step in a new charge, which Lizard set through with even though he just got shot in the gut.
Lunatic gazed ahead and gave a slight nod of respect to his foe, he had been outdone and he knew it. He’d have to go at it in hand to hand once more now, even though he was barely able to keep his own body upright. He dropped the rifle but it was already too late. Lizard’s crossed arms pinned him back against the wall in a chokehold. Lunatic tried to kick his opponent off him but was thwarted as Lizard opened his system and let the currents that permanently charged him pour through the Keeper. Ripples of electricity flared between them. These discharges became wild and furious as Lizard backed away from Lunatic involuntarily.

Neither of the two combatants had noticed him entering the ex-bedroom. Seemingly uncaring Wrathbringer plucked Lizard off the ground and tossed him against the side wall like a rag doll.
‘You pull a stunt like that again and you’re dead.’
Wrathbringer’s attempt at humour fell on deaf ears, including his own. Lunatic smiled shallowly and slid down the wall to the ground, where he buckled forward, his head keeping a scant inch from the floor.
Lizard had already recovered and threw himself at Wrathbringer, arcs of lightning bursting from and into his skin in echoing waves. Lizard had spent a lot of energy to surprise and take out the Lunatic, not to mention the wound he’d been left with, but there was still a slight hope in his mind that he could take this second, hulking, Keeper down as well. He also hoped Wrathbringer had been too concerned for Lunatic to defend himself properly. He had hoped wrong. Wrathbringer caught Lizard’s double-handed slam with his left hand. Impossibly slow and steady Wrathbringer brought up his right fist. Lizard was pouring every bit of charge he had into the bulky Keeper. But, almost lighting up like a bulb, Wrathbringer didn’t seem to mind. Lizard almost collapsed himself before the Keeper let his right arm come down upon both of his and broke them both. Letting Lizard go Wrathbringer resettled his footing and slammed his, now free, left hand into Lizard’s chest, breaking the breastbone and sending it careening into his innards.
With his heart literally shattered Lizard crumpled down onto the ground. Wrathbringer stared down at the Lizard with disdain, not for the Lizard, but for himself. He’d always propagated himself as the moral compass of the Keepers. They had always respected his opinion and accepted it as the truest point of view, though usually not all too applicable. He’d been the one they always turned to during a conflict because of his good heart. And now, staring down at Lizard, he didn’t care.
Behind him Lunatic was hanging on to life by the sheer force of his indomitable will. The same will that had always made him such a dangerous foe and vicious combatant now sustained his body to hold on just that bit longer. Wrathbringer already knew, a single glance had shown him that which Lunatic wouldn’t yet accept. The man’s body was broken beyond repair. He’d sought death and had received.
‘I’ll get Deadman for you Lunatic.’
Wrathbringer’s solemn voice echoed through the simple house, corpses were the only listeners except for two pairs of ears, and another…
‘you’ll do what?’
Deadman’s voice shocked Wrathbringer’s mind back into gear.


‘They’re a dogged lot, I have to give them that much.’
Ghost looked down the street in the direction Reaper indicated and saw the shadows of the men following them.
‘I wonder how the others are doing.’
Ghost’s voice gently wafted through the torn buildings, unlike Reaper’s, whose had thundered. With the others Ghost meant the rest of the designated task forces. She had uttered her concern about the weird alliance a number of times already. All of them in different guises but it constantly came down to one thing. People who’d formerly aided the syndicates working together with the ones that had most fervently opposed them. By nature of their existence the Mercenary Guilds had always been the direct opposition of the Black Wing. The two organisations had inflicted numerous casualties upon one another over the years.
‘It’s certainly odd to see the elite soldiers of the syndicates and the elite of PC fighting on the same side,’ Reaper thought. ‘I hope I didn’t put any together that have actually met in the field.’
He cut his thoughts short, said: ‘don’t worry, both sides are professionals. They know the job that must be done and why. Corsair has become a boil that should be lanced, and this alliance is the needle.’
Ghost didn’t answer, she waved the group of operatives to be silent.

A shadow flit past on one of the far walls of the ruins they had taken a time out in. One of the mercenaries, a thief, raced out of hiding after it. Not a sound came. Nothing at all. A minute long, nothing.
‘Lower your weapons.’
At the sound of the sharp voice Reaper dropped his staff. The men and women around him followed suit. Ghost felt the cold steel being lifted from her throat, then a rough shove in her back.
‘On your knees.’
Reaper burst out in laughter as he saw a mixture of dread and wonder appear on Ghost’s face. This in turn prompted an even weirder expression.
‘I also got rid of your tail while I was at it,’ the man behind Ghost announced, the sound of a weapon being sheathed speaking in concert. ‘They were a pushover, the thief, on the other hand, lasted a lot longer than I thought he would.’
‘What!’ Ghost cried out.
‘Keep your pants on.’ The man winked. ‘He’s simply sitting around the corner back there.’
One of the Black Wing operatives made his way into the direction indicated. He came back with the mercenary and some rope.
‘Now put them up.’ One of the Black Wingers pointed a gun at the intruder.
‘There’s no need for that,’ Reaper cautioned him. ‘Allow me to introduce a colleague of mine. A very able man, as he has already proven, by the name of Xanstin Silencer.’

‘So how did you find him then?’ Ghost emphasised the word how.
‘That’s just a bucket of technical mumbo jumbo I won’t worry your pretty little head with. Besides it’s a trade secret. Suffice it to say that I got it out of the infiltrator Deadman planted in the Black Wing.’
Silencer looked up at the different Black Wing operatives looking at him hostilely.
‘A man named Artan.’
Some of the looks of hostility switched into pointed anger, others turned incredulous.
‘You want proof? Ask your own men.’
And with that Tset, Cholin and Shill strode out into the open, exactly on cue.
‘You mercenary types aren’t fooling me!’ One of the operatives exclaimed.
‘Tsk, tsk, Reaper and I aren’t mercenaries. Not really.’ Silencer’s voice was as smooth as velvet and possibly even softer to the ear. ‘Think of us as a welfare organisation.’
‘Who’s welfare?’ Came the sarcastic retort.
‘Why, the world’s of course.’ In mock resentment he added: ‘How dare you ask such impertinent questions?’
the operative was about to fly at Silencer’s throat when Reaper laid his hand upon the man’s shoulder.
‘You’ve already ascertained you can trust me. And I say he’s telling the truth when he says he’s found Deadman. Now put a lid on it and head out.’
‘Very well then.’ Silencer’s voice was a cheery as a five year old’s on his birthday. ‘This way people.’

Two corners later the group found itself face to face with an armoured van. The thing looked more like a moving bunker than a car though. The only thing linking it to it’s transporting cousin were the strips of rubber one could spot under the side-skirts of the machine.
‘How long will this take?’
Silencer halted thoughtfully, he’d asked Reaper’s question to himself a number of times lately.
‘A rough estimate would be three and a half hours. A realistic view would be six or six half.’
‘That’d mean arrival by nightfall.’ Reaper stared up at the smoke filled sky. Parts of the city were still ablaze, most fires had burned out long ago though. ‘That will never do.’
‘I know’
Ghost looked back and forth between the two Keepers. She wanted to get through this as fast as possible as well. What she couldn’t see however was their problem. They had enough time on their hands, didn’t they? Of course they had, unless…
‘Is he expecting us?’
Ghost’s gentle voice broke through the silence like a brick through a window.
‘Deadman expects everything,’ Reaper told her gravely. ‘And everyone, especially us.’
‘He always has,’ Silencer finished, then stepped away to speak to the operatives checking out the vehicle.

‘Take the operatives and the mercenaries and complete your given objectives. Silencer came here just to pick me up, not anybody else.’
‘That’s bullshit,’ Ghost pointed out coldly. ‘From what I gather you need all the help you can get.’
‘This one will be going way over your head.’ Ghost was about to speak up but Reaper cut her off. ‘Believe me. I gave you a disk with the actual how’s and why’s. It might take you quite some time to break through the encryption but I have every bit of confidence you’ll manage. It will reveal why you shouldn’t go along. There are some things going on, there are people with powers that…’
‘It’s too dangerous right? You don’t want me to get hurt.’
Reaper looked at Ghost sadly, he had tried to avoid it but he knew where this was going.
‘The poor girls are too weak to be sacrificed on the altar of battle. We can’t fend for ourselves. Once again you’re talking crap Reaper, and you know it.’
‘No, it goes beyond that, there’s more.’
Ghost stared into Reaper’s eyes defiantly.
‘That disk might very well be the last remnant of the true story in the end. You are the only one who knows of it’s existence. I gave it to you because you are trusted from both sides of the line, by people from my organisation and yours. You are also one of the few who could really give up their current life and become respected in the world as a whole. You, with the information on that disk, will be the bridge that will begin to close the enormous gap that has fallen between humans and humanity.’
‘I’m still going along.’ Ghost already knew she was going to lose, but still had to try.
‘No, the target I set for this group you’re leading is vital for the true reconstruction of this world. You must complete this mission.’
Reaper turned around brusquely, leaving Ghost to wonder about the phrases ‘true reconstruction’ and ‘this world’.
----------
Yes yes we're getting near the end indeed...

next chappy:
Final Eve

(and remeber, just as last chapter, this title may or may not be the actual title of the next chapter. Depends on what I come up with in the meantime.)

[Kabobward]

I thought I already responded to this.

Well, I'm still reading.

[Vortigar]

And on and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star,
like tears from a star

Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing co...

Oh sorry, I'm kinda away with my mind here.
This chapter has been in the works a long time. A third of it was entirely scrapped and redone, then reinstated and edited... I'm still not sure whether I want that certain passage in.

Choices, choices...
-------------
Chapter Nineteen (Eve’s Eve)

‘So this is it then?’
‘Maybe for you, but I still have an overflowing agenda to keep after this.’
‘Still under the illusion that you’re in control?’ Wrathbringer couldn’t supress a slight grin.
‘I still got you under my thumb, yes.’ Deadman’s answer was casual to the point of comical. ‘The two of you,’ he indicated Lunatic, ‘were the only ones I was really worried about. And it seems you’ve overplayed your hand.’
‘Maybe I should just lay down and die then.’ Wrathbringer was getting worked up, despite himself.
‘It would be best for both of us…’
‘I wonder what you’re going to do about Raven.’ He wasn’t expecting an answer.
‘Between you and me Wrathy, I don’t need to do anything about him. He dug his own grave long ago.’
An image of Cat and Rat popped into Wrathbringer’s mind. Had Deadman meant the two of them? Was the pair still alive? More importantly, did Raven know about this? The pair had always been the wildcards, to use the gambling example Deadman had touched upon. The problem was that these wildcards were afire and none dared burn their hands to pick them up. Both parties had tried and failed.
‘Enough of this, bring it on!’
Deadman’s voice echoed through the room. The only sound to be heard following was the ex-Keeper settling his footing. The multiple clack of a whipblade folding out. Wrathbringer raised his hands. With his large fists in front of his face the massive man looked much like a boxer. What was strange was the fact that he stood completely still, not bouncing around to keep the opponent off-guard and his momentum fluid.
‘Here goes.’ Wrathbringer’s voiced boomed solemnly through the room, bouncing out onto the asphalt outside.


‘Couldn’t you stop him from coming?’ Reaper indicated Shill.
Silencer turned to his colleague. Leaving Tset’s question as to their exact destination unanswered in the process.
‘He was a tad too curious. I was afraid I’d had to kill him to prevent hisbeing here.’
‘Hey, I’m sitting right here!’
‘Yeah, you are, but it’s true isn’t it?’ Silencer said, totally ignoring Shill’s outburst and the actual issue.
Shill sat back and crossed his arms. Reaper swallowed a remark on women and smiled. Silencer turned his attention back to driving but found he was just a second too late. A group of shoddily clad men was standing in the middle of the road. The bunker-van was careening straight toward them. They merely stood and stared.
Silencer spun the wheel around.
‘Get out and get away!’ It was all he could say before the vehicle flipped and crashed sidelong through the group of passives.

‘What do you know that I don’t?’ Reaper demanded of Silencer after they had leapt from the van after coming to a halt.
‘They’re golems. Exact copies of the Black Wing infiltrator.’
Having fled the scene the five of them stared in horror as two of the Artans tore themselves free from the wreckage of the van they had just got out of.
‘Do you guys think Deadman’s got something against us?’ Silencer’s question didn’t alleviate the tension much. ‘I’m out of ideas, Reaper, what’s the plan?’
The other Keeper had already drawn his staff.
‘Tset, Cholin, Shill, this one’s beyond you. Silencer, tell them where to go, I’m afraid we’ll have to split up.’
Reaper’s grim expression told Silencer enough. He stepped back and handed Cholin a map.
‘Go down this street and take a left. From there keep going until you reach the citylimits. After that just improv your way towards the X.’ Silencer held silent for a while. ‘And don’t worry about us. Reaper’s a killer and i’m too fast for ‘em.’
Without question Cholin took the map and ran. Shill was on his subordinate’s tail in a second. Tset was rather unsure if he should leave these two. From where he was sitting there was no safer place to be than at the Keepers’ sides.
He changed his mind when one of the golems threw a square metre of wall their way. Reaper leapt out and sliced it right down the middle, his weapon discharging spectacularly right at he centre. The whole area around them was peppered with super-heated projectiles and large rocks slamming onto the Tarmac beneath their feet.


Deadman was the first to strike, leaping to the offensive as he saw Wrathbringer shifting his weight to attack. Wrathbringer wasn’t attacking however. He knew his immensebulk slowed him down and so had built his entire fighting style around it. He had hung the whole thing up on two precepts. One, don’t move if it isn’t needed. Two, draw them in and strike. That this had caused him to become a master at feinting was an added perk.
Deadman’s blade landed squarely in Wrathbringer’s left hand. The hand closed around the weapon. Surprise was evident in Deadman when he felt his weapon being pulled from his grip. He hadn’t even the choice to hold on as it would draw him forward, unable to compete with his opponent’s prodigious strength. And being pulled forward would put him in a most disadvantageous and, worse yet, defenceless position.
‘Well that was one hurdle.’ Wrathbringer’s remark came sardonically as he pushed the sword into the ground.
Deadman stared for a moment at the hilt sticking through the floor, then backed away and stared circling his formidable foe. The room was just large enough to do so.
He hadn’t expected this to be easy, but to be disarmed so quickly put him a bit off. Blood dripped to the ground from Wrathbringer’s left hand, which he’d clenched into a fist to disallow Deadman a view of the deep gauge inside and to prevent bloodloss.
Wrathbringer raised his right, open, and held it palm first directly at Deadman’s face. Deadan had a number of options still open and quite a few tricks left up his sleeve, both literally as well as figuratively, so he wasn’t worried, yet. At long last he made a decision and pointed upward. Wrathbringer glanced up slightly and was hit in the gut by a sniper’s bullet.
His eyes flared open wide as Deadman pulled out another whipblade and charged.
Half-deflecting, half-dodging, Wrathbringer fell back. His left arm got slashed open along it’s entire length in the process. Bent over like a hunchback Wrathbringer glared up at Deadman with fire in his eyes.
‘Hey, I’m the bad guy remember.’


‘Damn!’
‘Cursing, however useful, won’t help this time.’
‘Ha ha, very funny. Why don’t you have a go then?’
Cat sighed. ‘You’re the computerwhizz of the two of us. I’ve tried for hours earlier and failed. This time it’s your turn to pull out some hairs.’
Rat swiveled his chair around again and got back to work. Behind him Cat focused his attention on the map and the stack of prints that were scattered across the table.
Things were coming together. The two of them had spent the last rather large bout of time collating an image of events as they unfolded but also how the history behind it all had ran. As they had progressed through the levels of encryption they’d always struck upon the same wall that had confounded Cat during his attempts as well. And now Cat had targeted on getting things into view while handing over his previous task to Rat. Both of them had concluded that there was a missing link. The only tangible evidence of this were the unencryptable files and the morgue. The room that couldn’t be located on any of the maps and contained those strange green tubes filled with perfectly ordinary people, on the surface.
‘But that can’t be right!’ Rat’s exclamation caused Cat to turn to his partner’s side once more. ‘It just can’t be.’
‘What?’ Cat hoped to bring the matter into the light of reason.
Rat paused for a moment and then opened a number of files in quick succession.
‘Here, these are the personal logs of all the Keepers. Raven, Wolf, Silencer, Wrathbringer, Carress, me, Lunatic, Reaper, Deadman, even Harlequin is still in the system. But our mystery encryption won’t break under any of their keys.’
‘Which means?’
‘Which means that either they are a remnant of an ancient past or there is a hidden party. Someone in here beyond the Keepers.’
‘Another Keeper?’
‘Or an ex-Keeper. Someone not ascribed as alive by the system but who still has an encryption key. I also tried punching up all the different keys, and I just got the ones of the Keepers we know.’
Cat shot upright. ‘The tube!’ He ran towards the door.
‘The one you put gorgon in?’ Rat queried, rising to follow.
‘Exactly.’ Cat’s word resounded through the corridor he was running through, back toward the morgue.


With that Wrathbringer launched himself forward, remembering how Lizard had been taken down by Lunatic. Opposed to expectation he didn’t find himself lanced on the end of a sword. Deadman partially succesful, dodged aside. Wrathbringer couldn’t bring his full force to bear however and smashed into Deadman’s side with all he could direct. Deadman rolled back and out from what should have been a knockdown blow.
Deadman was fighting strategically, only taking those chances he could not avoid. Had he ran Wrathbringer through he’d have ended the fight for both of them, he knew, he’d seen it. Wrathbringer knew he was defeated, any truly dangerous move from his part would probably award him a bullet in the throat. The only chance he had was try to stall and wait for the other to make a mistake.
A heavy sound ended Wrathbringer’s hopes though. With the ease of a bulldozer Deadman’s lackey syepped through a wall to end the fight for his master. Deadman wanted to prove he could beat his opponent at his own game. So he built an android with more power than even the enhanced Keeper could muster. Add that to the facts that Wrathbringer was already heavily wounded and he had a sniper watching him and the equation turned out to be quite nasty. There was only one consideration still on the Keeper’s mind as the golem pounded toward him.
‘I can’t beat this one on musclepower but I bet I can take him down on brainpower.’

Wrathbringer raised his wounded arm as prime defence and hid the other behind his body. The golem came forward. Wrathbringer let him come. He wondered if he could outpace his enemy, now there would be a change, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He was facing an android, bodyweight probably meant nothing, this thing would be balanced out to run at least twenty miles an hour and it would be able to do it into infinity. On the other hand the challenge was too obvious to pass up on.
The first strike came, a strike from the golems maximum reach. Wrathbringer noted the approximate distance and took the hit to his wounded arm. It wasn’t of any use to him so he might as well use it as a shield. He stepped into the opening the long ranged, thus slow, punch had left in his opponent’s defence. Laying his full weight into the blow Wrathbringer hammered onto the neck.
Not a dent.
But the android was made to resemble a human, the outer skin was soft. That was at least one courtesy Deadman had shown him. He really hoped there were some other balancing factors Deadman would throw in to sate his sense of honour. It would probably be so. Deadman knew he could only bruise his opponent with the sniper unless he were to simply let him target the head. So there was still some sort of honour in him.
‘Can’t fight your own battles?’
‘Oh, shut up and just let me enjoy this little thing.’
It didn’t escape Wrathbringer that Deadman reffered to a fight that could cost him his life as ‘this little thing’. It was something he could’ve said to try and enrage his opponent but Wrathbringer was starting to feel the undercurrent. He was releasing anxiety, just as Wrathbringer himself was with his remarks.


‘You’ll figure it out.’ Ghost’s voice was chock full of sarcasm as she glanced at the plated jacket pocket into which she had stuffed Reaper’s disk. ‘Yeah, if I survive maybe.’
Around her the seven remaining members of her band were trying to break free from the cross-fired position they found themselves in. The map showed that their intended target was somewhere close. But Reaper had called it a facility and there was nothing even remotely looking like a building in the vicinity, unless one counted the piles of rubble they and their opposition were hiding in.
She checked the coordinates once more. She was dead on target. It had to be underground if anything was still left. Behind her a member of the group fell over backward. The Black Wing Operative bounced downward on his face, breaking his neck. Ghost snapped to attention as the corpse landed right in front of her. One of their flanks was now unguarded. Before seeing to that however she turned the body around. She was greeted by a skull, staring up at her through a mass of tendons, she swore she could see a bit of brain back there. With a short tug she pulled the dogtags free from the unfortunate’s body.
‘Kellim Jahnson, may you rest in peace.’

She had almost turned away and moved up into Kellim’s previous position when she noticed there was something wrong. Blood was running everywhere, there should be a huge pool of it on the floor under Kellim’s head. Ghost shited the body aside and saw a straight line, soaked and red on one side, totally clear on the other. She ran her hand past the perimiter. She felt nothing that held the blood back or absorb it.
‘Sir!’
Down on all fours Ghost crawled around, spreading blood around, slowly revealing the edges of whatever it was. One of the mercenaries was staring at the scene with visual disgust.
‘Sir, we’ve got to pull back, out of here.’
Her hand felt something. It was cold and hard, a small sphere or globe settled into te floor, unmovable. Ghost tried to press it as if it were a button but it didn’t budge. She pulled out a 9mm.
‘Sir?’
Setting the thing directly on the globe she squeezed the trigger. The blood she was sitting in was suddenly sluiced away. Soundlessly the floor collapsed downward into a staircase. The form Ghost had been drawing on the floor was the ultimate step of the stairs.
‘It seems I just found our way out.’
Ghost smiled confidently, worry rocked her spirit.
-------------
The next chapter is already written out on paper. Now for the typing bit, difficult to warm myself to that task...

Gosh, I never realised the duality of that last sentence till now... Shows what I know doesn't it?

[Kabobward]

I've had some trouble following everything with all the time in between these posts. I'll probably have to go back and review some of the past chapters to completely understand everything.

[Vortigar]

Hahaaa! Back on a roll... Damn that last week was good! All of a sudden I'm writing again. I really love myself these days, though the quality has suffered a bit due to the large pause. Not that I count myself as a 'quality writer', that'd be so unstylish and inappropriate I'd feel forced to kill myself...

Thanks for the PM btw Kabob.

After this one there are three more chapters coming up. I'm not sure whether the third will be a full chapter or an epilogue, that depends on how much material will start cropping up in the next two. (Ok, it could even turn into three chapters + an epilogue.)

I hope you'll enjoy the show!
(We're sgt. pepper's lonely hearts club band...)
-----------
Chapter Twenty (Contradiction)

The golem’s next move was predictable, a defensive blow, stepping back and lashing out. It was moving mechanically, cumbersome, crude, too crude. Wrathbringer knew then it was really just a ‘little thing’. An early construction of Deadman’s. This was just another insult to pile upon the heap.
Wrathbringer ducked past the blow, threw his weakened arm against the follow up and lashed out through the created opening. The machine didn’t even veer back. It simply kept the momentum of it’s attack going. Wrathbringer took a hit to the chest before he saw his predicament.
This thing was built to go on, eternally. Wrathbringer veered away from another blow. The machine wouldn’t win though. The answer was so simple it was unforgivable Wrathbringer hadn’t opted for it from the start. He was losing it, his edge. The machine came forward again and slammed his elbow into Wrathbringer’s jaw, taking him down.
Another step.
Wrathbringer let out a laugh.
It leaned forward.
Wrathbringer pulled the whipblade out of the floor, switched it into it’s flexible form and sheared his opponent in half.

Deadman shotforward, decoupling his own sword. He threw his whip into Wrathbringer’s lashing one. The two tied together into a knot. Wrathbringer pulled back on the sword. This time it was Deadman’s turn to smile as he turned his sword into it’s solid form. The sudden jerk as the blade contracted together tore the pair of blades from both men’s hands.
For a moment the two men stared at one another. Wrathbringer then lowered his head in defeat yet still scrambled forward. Deadman reached the two blades far faster of course. The Keeper pushed himself off the ground and shouldered Deadman out the hole his golem had created in the wall.
Another pair of sniper bullets slammed into Wrathbringer’s body. Annoying but not critical, but the point was made. Wrathbringer would be stuck here unless somebody else came to his aid. Deadman was too smart to err on a thing like this and Wrathbringer lacked the means to take the plunge. His eyes traveled towards the sniper rifle at Lunatic’s side
The guy still hadn’t expired fully. He was staring forward inanimately, his defining intense glare still there where it had always been. The eyes that could transfix water and make stone move if only his mind complied. Wrathbringer sighed. He wouldn’t be able to take revenge. Another would have to take up the sword.


‘We can’t really be doing this.’
‘Why not?’
‘We’re the good guys, we can’t just go out stealing cars.’
‘Who’s going to miss it? The only ones still here are either syndicate or our guys.’
‘We don’t know that for sure.’
‘Then they’ll be allowed to steal themselves a vehicle of their own, I’ll see to it that it gets legalized.’
‘But…’
‘Don’t be a sissy!’
Tset stopped whining, but not on Shill’s accord. Instead Cholin had just got the red compact car running. Gently he stuffed the wiring back into the dashboard. Shill glared at Tset who simply shrugged and got in.
‘You were just trying to spite me? You little prick.’
‘Course I was bossy boy.’
With a grunt Shill followed Tset’s example and got in. Cholin revved up the engine and got them back on the road again.


‘You scared big boy?! Come on, get over here and I’ll stab you!’
Silencer was hopping back and forth cackling his challenges and insults. The golems before him didn’t really seem to mind, but came at him all the same, stomping crudely toward their nimble opponent. Silencer rounded a corner. The golems didn’t slow their pace, their programs were simple ones. A few seconds after vanishing Silencer leapt back into view from around the corner, catching a golem unaware and on the sharp end of his rapier. The golem ploughed on despite the blade sticking through it’s gut. His forward momentum forced it to lower its head slightly however. Upon this change in posture its head immeadietely got separated from its body by a clean, green cut from Reaper’s scythe.
‘That makes eight,’ Silencer remarked, ’but there’re still a dozen of them out there.’
‘We’ve got to get out of here,‘ Reaper agreed.
‘No, just the opposite. We were pinned down here for a reason. And you can bet its a grave reason. If there’s a reason to deploy so many golems in one place, its got to be a good one.’
‘Unless he’s just trying to throw us off.’
‘In which case we’re spiking his resources,’ Silencer stated joyfully.
‘And risking our own lives in the process.’ Reaper wasn’t the least bit amused.
‘Deal I’d say.’ Silencer’s joy almost turned into a cheer.
‘Alright, alright already.’ Reaper agreed both to end the discussion and because he knew Silencer would not be convinced anyway. He was pretty sure they could take the golems on.


‘Help will not arrive in time for you.’
Wrathbringer swung to his left, another swordslash came down through his left arm. The limb was starting to look like a cat o nine tails. The use of it had been gone some time again, so Wrathbringer had resorted to using it as a shield on purpose. Something Deadman had no problem with at all. In fact he seemed to be enjoying the blood sport more and more.
‘Neither will I let you live once they do arrive,’ Deadman continued, ‘if they arreive at all that is.’
Deadman smiled and launched himself forward. Wrathbringer could not evade the attack. All he managed to do was to crash a fist into his opponent’s lower ribs, causing quite some pain. But not halting the momentum. A quick dash and a shunt later Wrathbringer found himself up against a wall, sliding downward. Deadman backed off slowly. With his body settling down on the ground Wrathbringer found himself sitting in a pool of blood. His own blood, warm and dark, mixed together with dried blood of a much lighter hue. A look to the left found Wrathbringer staring at Verian Lunatic. The insane Keeper was alive still.
‘I’ll leave you there to suffer with your friend.’
Wrathbringer felt a rage boiling up inside of him and started upward, only to find that his legs didn’t answer his call. He slumped unto the floor, uncomfortably buckled over forward. During the last attack Deadman had expertly severed vital nerves by stabbing one of his blades straight through the gut and into the spinal cord. Wrathbringer had already been in so much pain then that the maneavre hadn’t registered at all.
‘Are you not man enough to finish the job?’ Wrathbringer was on the verge of tears in despair but would not let Deadman have any such satisfaction.
‘That has nothing to do with the current situation old friend.’
‘Are you so honourless to let a worthy foe die in such a way then?’ He tried to play upon Deadman’s love of ancient Japan. As soon as the Keeper had become an enemy he Wrathbringer had read into the man’s interests.
‘No, I will be back shortly. Another player has arrived, one that I must welcome with all due honour and haste.’
‘You bet your ass you do. Though I cannot help but wonder what “due honour” is to you.’
Raven’s voice was calm and composed as he threw the bodies of two snipers to the ground. Even the sight of Lunatic and Wrathbringer didn’t seem to faze him any.


Three men were left behind in defence, ordered not to retreat inward until allowed. Three more went down the stairs, including Ghost herself. The air was cold but there was no wind. As the group advanced downward, and the noise of the fighting up top fell into the background, they discerned a slight humming noise.
‘Climat control,’ one of them explained unbidden.
The others merely nodded assent and descended further. The bottom end of the staircase was as uncermonious as its colleague upward, a blank walled chamber with a door set into it. One of the mercenaries walked up to it and tapped against it a few times in different places.
‘Steel.’ His voice didn’t carry far, sucked away like the air to be checked and filtered. ‘At least three inches thick, we’ve got nothing that can blast this. No apparent lock, combination or key, definately locked though.’
He stepped back and looked it over again.
‘Anybody have an idea? I don’t.’
‘You didn’t read the orders very well, did you?’
The question came from one of the Black Wingers. She stepped forward and settled her hand against the door on the exact opposite side from the opening handle. The door swung open.
‘Of course I knew that! You got to admire the concept though, unlocked and hidden in plain sight.’
The comment went by ignored. The attention of the group had long shifted to the almost empty innards of the hall. The contents of the hall were a simple computer terminal set against the right wall and fifteen pallets loaded up with books. Cautiously the men and women took to the floor, scanning the place methodically and meticulously. The first to investigate the books was Ghost herself. She slit some of the packing material away and held one of the books up. An entirely black cover with “Corsair Syndicate” enamled on the front in gold.
‘So this is what you meant.’ No one heard Ghost’s fleeting mumble.

One of the Black Wingers had fired up the computer terminal in the meantime. The screen flickered into life to show an order to insert a cd. The operative turned around and informed Ghost thus.
An explosion tore through the hall, causing everyone to look back to the entrance. Everyone but Ghost, she was already at the terminal. After putting the book down she reached into her inner jacket pocket.
‘Two of you, search for other exits, the rest guard the entrance.’ Ghost’s orders were quickly followed. She didn’t need to add that grenades would probably be their biggest problem at the lower end of a staircase with an overwhelming force above.
She hesitated a second when she pulled Reaper’s cd from it’s sleeve. Was this the right time for this? He had said she’d know when, but her motto had always been: “why not now?” She placed the disc on the reader. Almost giddily the machine swallowed the cd. Reaper’s voice silently issued forth from the machine, he sounded confident almost businessman-like.
‘I told you, you’d figure it out. I’m about to make a request you probably won’t want to follow so be prepared. If I’m not mistaken you’ll have taken one of the books before coming here.’ Ghost smiled at that, but her thoughts were trying to work out what Reaper had planned for her. She kept on listening in apathic silence.
‘You are currently inside a repository we, the Keepers, use to hold on to secrets we have not decided a purpose for. Deadman had spread word about our existence in the form of the books behind you. We managed to intercept the load before it even hit the streets. These books should have been destroyed but someone prevented that from happening, we have our suspicions but they are of no consequence, suffice to say that the problem has been dealt with. Now that we’ve found these books back we have to destroy them, you’ll understand. But that isn’t the problem in itself.’ Ghost knew the Crux was coming now.
‘If you’re listening to this I will have not been able to accompany you inward so you will have to escape yourself. To that end you will leave this place alone. The terminal before you will open up shortly and show a way out, Deadman must’ve known about this but any resitance you’ll encounter on your way out will be gone, or at least weakened by a series of preprogrammed overloads in the powernet around the exit. All you need to do is crawl out and keep your eyes open. After that you are to head to the following coordinates where all will be explained to you. There is but one serious demand I have for you. You will leave alone.’
Ghost realised instantly that she’d have to leave her men behind to die. The coordinates that had appeared on the screen were already embedded within her permanent memory by the instinct bred into her through training. Reaper’s voice held silent for a little while as the terminal slid aside silently and a small passage was revealed.
‘You will leave alone, and you will do it now.’ Reaper’s voice had turned harsh. ‘This hall will explode in thirty seconds, don’t forget to take your copy of the book along.’
On the screen two lines appeared one said that the message had ended, the other was a thirty second countdown. Ghost looked back at the fight that had started behind her. She didn’t have enough time. She knew it, as Reaper had when he had formulated the message. With tears in her eyes she pocketed the book and crawled into the passage.


‘You think you’ll have more luck than these two?’
Raven glanced back at Deadman indifferently and simply raised a hand to bid him to come forward.
‘I wonder if you’ve got as many tricks up your sleeve as I do.’
The reply was a lowering of the arm and a settling of feet on the ground. A soundless wording of: “try it”. Deadman extended his sword toward the ground and grasped it in two hands.
Raven’s smile dissappeared into concentration as Deadman charged forward. The sword ground over the ground, sending sparks flying. The exchange at the end of the move forward was quick and deadly. Yet not deadly enough to take any of the two out.
Deadman went for a stroke upward, then diverted and steered his weapon into the lower body. Raven flung his head right to dodge the primary attack and then his entire body back to make sure the secondary didn’t land. The first hit was Raven’s as he slammed his open hand onto Deadman’s chin, who flipped back to absorb the blow and escape from a possible follow-up.


Silencer kicked one of the heads down the road.
‘Deadman could’ve turned this into more of a challenge. Who does he think he’s playing with here?’
‘They were just a diversion.’ Reaper stated the obvious fact Silencer had ignored on purpose in the first place.
The two looked at one another uneasily. They both knew they were going to be late. A giant fireball went up into the air before them. A deafening roar followed, the two remained motionless as the sound washed over them.
‘Well, we could always try to get there as fast as possible, though it’ll be late in any case.’
‘No it won’t, not for everything we’ve got to do.’
-----------

Next chappy will be here in a week.

[Kabobward]

Hahaaa! Back on a roll... Damn that last week was good! All of a sudden I'm writing again. I really love myself these days, though the quality has suffered a bit due to the large pause. Not that I count myself as a 'quality writer', that'd be so unstylish and inappropriate I'd feel forced to kill myself...

I've told you time and time again that you are easily the best writer around here. This chapter didn't lack any quality. You picked off where you left off nicely. I don't give too many compliments, but your writing is impressive, especially since what you find online is overwhelmingly bad most of the time.

I hope the next chapter comes in a week as you've said.

[Vortigar]

Well, matters do not lie exactly like that. I am aware that what I produce tends to turn out quite well. When I speak of a quality writer however I have the image of a man like King or Lustbader in my head (not Poe or Dostoevsky, that's genious). Though I've found some published writers to produce work thorougly sub-par, I absolutely abhor Feist for example, I've read a few books and had the eerie feeling: 'well I can do this...'

In any case, thanks for the support, there are two people that have kept me going through this whole ordeal. I finished the last chapter yesterday and now only need to rerun and check a few things, yes it's been a busy but very good week for me, I also graduated... Some 90% of that credit falls on your shoulders I reckon. Wildstar prods me whenever I dare show my face in chat... ^_^

Here's to the next:
Vorty - Bachelor of ICT - raises a glass of undefined liquid
-----------------
21. Turnout

Raven’s next attack was merciless. Without any hint toward his intention he shot forward, his feet remaining perfectly still. Dust swept up in gray whirls. Deadman held back and raised his weapon in defence. Open handed blows were all that formed the attack. Flesh came down upon perfectly engineered metal and batted it aside without so much as a wrinkle. Surprise was evident as Deadman found himself flying backward from his opponent who stood nailed to the ground, perfectly still with his arms aranged in the form of his last, double handed blow.
Deadman’s suit returned to its normal black, his entire chest had been coloured white where Raven’s hands had made their presence known. A sigh escaped Deadman’s mouth and turned into a snide breath. The two dark haired men stared at each other across the debris of the war they had engineered.
‘What was it that set you on your course Deadman?’ The question was asked in an amiable tone.
‘You and your superiority complex.’
‘Only indirectly, don’t forget it was me who recruited you, I had you thoroughly analysed.’
‘Well, you didn’t see this one coming with all your analyses, did you?’
Deadman’s defiance was hollow. Raven just seemed amused.
‘Come on then.’
The prompt wasn’t necessary, Deadman was already storming forward. Raven simply set off walking and was only one step forward when he had to raise an arm to block a swordstrike. Deadman’s second blade appeared out of nowhere, ripped past Raven’s defenses and tore into the face. Raven reeled back, a shower of sparks bursting off his head flew wild. The next slash also contacted. It ripped through Raven’s long coat and connected to his lower abdomen. A jet of cloth shot away to the side. After a quick breath Deadman came on again, this time unleashing his attack on empty space.
‘Surprising, not entirely unexpected and certainly not unplanned for though.’
Raven shrugged off his coat. There was a slightly reddish line running from his left cheek to the center of his nose. Deadman crossed his two blades and leaned back sideways.
‘Come on then,’ Deadman echoed.

Raven’s assault was sudden and furious. After taking one step into a run he lifted from the ground slightly and flit forward the rest of the way, ever accelerating. Deadman threw both of his blades forward into the flight trajectory. Raven responded by flipping his entire body spinning, feet forward. One blade soared by each above and below him. The end of his maneuver found him with his head suspended, inverted an inch from the ground, staring at his opponent’s feet. He grabbed Deadman’s ankles and righted himself toward his opponent, plucking his feet from the ground and sending him back first onto the ground. After hearing the dull thump of contact Raven let go of the pair of limbs and set himself down straight on his feet, in Deadman’s stomach.
The ex-Keeper swung furiously. Raven fled up and away from the two blades that were out for his neck. He landed softly on the ground some ten meters from his opponent.
‘It seems you’re having trouble fighting in a full three dimensional manner. Don’t worry, I’ve yet to meet someone who didn’t.’
Deadman also didn’t fail to notice that the earlier exchange, which should’ve taken off half his nemesis’ head, had only left him a graze on the face and a ripped shirt with no discernable wound underneath.
‘What are you?’ Deadman hated to sound so amazed but the fact was that he knew virtually nothing about the one before him now.
‘I’m a lot more like you than I am like one of your golems. I do bridge the gap some way though.’
‘Bridge this!’

Two sharp whips made their way toward the self-proclaimed leader of the now all but annihilated Keepers. Raven whirled straight into and up through the two curling metal protrusions.
‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’
One of the whips withdrew, the other was guided on to follow. Another extra lash was added to the direct pursuer to let it lance out a little. Raven saw the snap coming and flit down past the length of the aggressive one. The brother blocked his way through though and caught him around the ankle.
‘Take this!’
Deadman lashed the whip out and pulled it back furiously, causing it to knot up and then unwind around his opposing number’s limb. Raven bit through the bit of pain he felt right before the chemicals shot into his mind by a tiny machine shut that part of his nervous system off. He didn’t utter so much as a puff. His attack was neutralized though.
The first whip came dancing back to Deadman, forcing Raven to come down a little along the way. The other one lanced out again. Without a thought Raven grabbed the deadly instrument with both hands and yanked it back before coming down straight at its wielder.
Deadman had suspected as much and raised his one blade that had already recomposed into its solid form. It was of little use. One kick to the shin landed, followed by an blow to the underside of the jaw with the heel of the hand.
Raven went after his now flying opponent. The still to reform sword was loosed and sprawled on the ground like a dying snake before becoming one again. A rapid and one sided exchange followed.

Deadman rose from the ruins of the building he’d been tossed into with an enraged stare. His remaining sword was bent. The top was broken off and hung by its whip connectors like a dog’s tongue on a hot day. With disdain he threw the wasted weapon to the ground.
‘You’ve forgotten to check up on two things Raven.’ His voice was cold.
‘Oh, yeah?’ Raven’s was filled with mock surprise.
Deadman raised his hands to shoulder height. Two silvery metal sheaths rose out from his tattered sleeves and encased palm and digits. A slight shudder went through the air around them.
‘Oh, those?’
Once more the pronunciation got to him. Deadman was unsure whether Raven had or had not counted on the gauntlets but it didn’t matter really. All that mattered was the contest of strength at this point.


‘Stay here and keep an eye out. I’ll get in there when the situation calls for it.’
‘Be my guest, but it seems we’ve already been found.’
Cat looked up and saw a wreck of a car hobbling into the street.
‘Tires.’ It was all that was needed.
Two quick successive shots were heard and the hobbling wreck came to an abrupt albeit warbled stop. Three men jumped out of the car and into cover at their respective side of the street.
‘These guys are trained professionals. They don’t come across like Mercs. Strange.’
‘Army or Black Wing.’ Rat’s notion hadn’t escaped Cat either.
‘Probably the latter, the first would’ve been accompanied by a tank.’
Cat shrugged. ‘Seems to make sense, Black Wing then.’
‘I always make sense, besides, I recognize two of them.’
‘You what?’ Cat’s emotions were evident.
‘They’re here on invitation from the Keepers, not sure why exactly, but they’ve got a part to play in someone’s plan. And it isn’t Deadman’s.’
‘That leaves Raven, Wolf and Reaper.’ They’d already come to the conclusion that Silencer was acting either under Raven or Reaper. And even if he didn’t follow either directly he wasn’t one to plan. ‘So, we’ll just go down and greet them?’
‘No,’ Rat took up his scheming tone, ‘Let’s pull their leg first, you keep an eye on the others.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me. How many cars do we need to total before we get somewhere.’
‘I don’t think we’ll need to get much further than this.’
‘You’ve got a point there, now what about that sniper, we’ve no idea where he is.’
‘Or she.’
‘She?’
‘Yeah, why not. You’re always so sexist. Women are known to be better shots than man, given the right training. You remember that Ghost chick, right? She…’
Tset got knocked on the head by Cholin. Across the street their commanding officer had been singing fervently to communicate a plan of operations. With a nod the two subordinates crawled into the building they were cowering beside. A few loose shells buried themselves around their previous location, the sniper was rather pleased with the agitated reaction he caused.
Shill bolted from cover at his fire and placed himself on the ground, keeping the heavy bulk of the wrecked car between him and the shooter. He pointed in Rat’s general direction. Tset took the hint and passed it on to his colleague. They made off toward the threat through the building.

Rat was already on the move, settling himself into a house diagonally across the street. He and Cat had picked this side of the street due to its defensibility and they knew every nook and cranny to be found in the area through the Shell’s detailed maps of the planet.
Sighting them through the heat sensor Rat set off peppering the direct area around the two Black Wingers with bullets. The two were rather high strung by now. Rat knew that now was the time to make his move. He pulled his backpack up tight around his shoulders and dug the pistol out of its side pocket.

More gunfire was heard throughout the street.
‘That wasn’t a rifle!’
Carefully Shill peeked past the car and saw a man in full black jump through a window and cross the street toward Tset and Cholin’s location. He reached back for his gun and came around again. The target was gone.
‘Here he comes.’ Cholin’s whisper was redundant.
Rat crashed through the window loudly and halted in front of the two men who were strung like a hairtrigger. They looked up and their eyes grew wide.
‘You’re one of them.’
‘Question is what ‘them’ you’re referring to.’ Rat’s reply to Cholin made him draw back in suspicion.
‘It’s two to one, you tell us.’ Tset’s impetuosity made itself known.
‘The wrong one you mean, you first.’ Rat was starting to consider the whole thing as a game show.
Cholin cocked his head, ‘Rat wasn’t it?’
‘Cholin, Tset,’ Rat acknowledged with a nod, ‘but that still doesn’t solve the problem.’
‘No, but I think “that” puts it on the back burner.’
Tset pointed out the window Rat had used as entrance. What they saw beyond indeed threw a spanner in the works.


Deadman clenched a fist. The area around him shook itself loose from the ground. The massive blocks of concrete and steel shattered into pieces. It rained that sunny day, it rained stones.
With a sweep of the hand the rain turned into a hail, slicing sideways across the street. Raven pulled up from the ground but was caught by a variety of small rubble. It merely stunted his movement, but that was all that was required. Deadman clasped his hands together. A surge passed through the air. Raven lurched to the left a little before being met on the right by the other force-front. A tremendous bang whirled through the street, stones trembled, windows sprang.
For the first time in some while Deadman allowed himself a small bit of joy. Down the street another man put his feet back unto the ground a bit shakily.
‘As you’ve noticed I can take quite a bit. Still, that was most uncomfortable.’
‘I bet.’
Raven lanched himself forward at top speed. Ground stones and dust whirled up in his slipstream. Deadman threw a palm forward. The other’s flight was stopped as if he’d ran up against a concrete wall. It wasn’t his end though, he reasserted and continued. Deadman threw his other hand forward. For a second time Raven was stopped dead in his aireal tracks, and he also continued forward again. Hesitation didn’t exist. Two hands were thrust forward in a slightly upward angle. Raven’s head flew back, his legs came forward, he spun full circle and slammed face first onto the street.
‘Come on then,’ Deadman taunted.
Raven, however, hadn’t fully stopped moving yet. He lurched up from the ground with both fists forward and caught his adversary in the gut. Deadman flew back and knew his enemy was coming after him. Upon touching the ground, uncaring for balance, he rammed two fists onto the ground. A shockwave expanded outward from Deadman, crashing in double against Raven who was only half a meter from the epicentre.
A cry escaped the Keeper’s throat as he felt his tendons stretching to their limit. The implanted systems set in the shutdown sequence to save the body from self-destructing. Raven clicked a few thoughts into place and disabled the function. The circuit accepted the shutdown because it read that Raven was still fully aware of his senses.
In hand with the drowning out of the cry came Raven’s onset once again, an upward blow to the chest. Deadman’s suit overloaded, the white lit up patch burst out into blue sparks, discharging themselves on both combatants. By the time Deadman was aware where he was the second storey wall just met his back, it didn’t stop his movement. Raven set himself down and allowed his internals to rearrange his heat patterns and flex his muscles. The five floor building before him came crashing downward, accompanied by a billowing cloud of smoke. Raven sighed, this could go on forever. Deadman stepped out from the ruin, a debris free globe around him. His eyes were set to total rage. He raised both hands and clasped hem together above his head, index fingers pointing upward in companionship.
‘No…’ was all Raven could mutter.
A lance of force took off like a space shuttle, forcing aside the smoke and even the clouds above. It breached through the lower plating of the Shell, causing an emergency shut down. A perfect square of blue sky, a mile wide, became pitch black.
-----------------
Well, it was less than a week but I had some time to put this one up so did it immeadietely (man I hate that word). The next one will follow in due time, I'm planning next Saturday.
22 = release

[Kabobward]

This was probably the closest you've come to an epic fight so far. You should let them go on continuously more often, build up a bit more momentum.

I'm really glad I could something to comment on about the story for a change.


‘You’ve got to be kidding me. How many cars do we need to total before we get somewhere.’
‘I don’t think we’ll need to get much further than this.’
‘You’ve got a point there, now what about that sniper, we’ve no idea where he is.’
‘Or she.’
‘She?’
‘Yeah, why not. You’re always so sexist. Women are known to be better shots than man, given the right training. You remember that Ghost chick, right? She…’
Tset got knocked on the head by Cholin. Across the street their commanding officer had been singing fervently to communicate a plan of operations. With a nod the two subordinates crawled into the building they were cowering beside. A few loose shells buried themselves around their previous location, the sniper was rather pleased with the agitated reaction he caused.

Good dialogue. You could use a bit more of this, as well. Although, you've probably gotten much better at it as time has gone on.

It was one of your better chapters. Post the rest soon.

[Vortigar]

This is the only fight that I could think of as epic really... *scratches behind the ears* Mostly my fight scenes (and we've seen quite a few) are based around a simple idea and a couple of moves that would seem cool. But I have to agree that once the tap starts flowing I do manage to keep coming up with ideas.

As for that conversation, I had a moment of clarity there and just jotted it down. I keep smiling every time I read it again...

Here it is then, chappy 22... Only thing left after this is to wrap stuff up by explaining my ass off. I've been wanting to get down to that part for so long...
---------------
Release

Rat crashed on the ground at his planned position. Tset, Cholin and Shill crawled up beside him and peered over the ledge, down at the two rivals. Behind them the one that led them there activated the rifle he had hidden at the location. A slight whine could be heard if one were close enough.
After flipping open the sight Rat joined the three at the top of the hill-ruin. It took him a little time but he eventually found Cat slipping down toward the two, making sure he was invisible to anyone but those who knew where to look.
‘What’s this?’ Cholin, ever inquisitive, asked.
‘Raven and Deadman have finally crossed swords,’ Tset remarked.

‘Well, got anything to say to that?’
‘That was the act of a desperate man.’
‘Yes, but is it any less potent becuse of its nature? Admit it, there’s no way you’re going to be able to keep going on like you did now. Your days are through.’
Raven sighed and stared up at the square hole in the sky. A few sparks of power shot across the sky.
‘My works were finished a long time ago, through you. I have to admit that you’ve managed to disrupt my further plans, but those plans were not mine to execute in the first place, so were more like guidelines.’
Deadman grunted and lifted himself toward his opponent with his gauntlets.
‘Let’s end this.’
On that signal the two flared into action. Raven was halted by a single grasping hand. Both of them knew what was coming. Both of them were also sure of the outcome, one through conviction in his power the other through knowledge of facts. Raven conceded to his defeat in spirit but not yet in physique. With all his might he started pushing at the cage of pure force that was emplaced around him. Deadman was not impressed, he simply pointed two fingers at his captive opponent.
Another lance coursed through the air, this time smaller and horizontal. Its effects on Raven were of a far more direct order than the bigger one though. The Keeper held on to his dignity and merely continued pushing. Something Deadman didn’t care for much. He simply swept his hand about, giving Raven a light slap, and pointed once more.
Upon impact Raven’s efforts loosened for just a bit. Deadman’s hand came clasping together, crushing force asserted itself upon Raven, then collapsed in on him. With a sly smile he flew forward again.

‘Oh, no you don’t!’
With that Raven contacted the ground much like a fly would under stress of a newspaper. The difference was that most newspaper don’t make a hole in the table. Before Raven could recover he was already flung from the pit and headlong into a building. Raven set in strenuous effort to resist the next blow’s force but a second and a third made the building collapse around him, breaking his concentration and sending him bouncing across the street.
Deadman approached coolly, slapping from side to side casually, keeping Raven from balancing himself. Without a trace of sympathy he swept his former master from wall to wall.
Raven’s body was holding up well under the violence, his mind was starting to waver however. The continuous banging of his skull shook his brain into submission. Internal injuries set in, causing so called break systems to set in and halt brain activity and set the mind into a preservatory mode.
After a minute of abuse Deadman realized there was no reaction from Raven’s part any more.
‘So that was it?’
Raven floated upward, his neck stretched, evidently being pulled up by a force on the cranium.
‘I should’ve done this from the start.’
Deadman tightened his grip on Raven’s skull. Slowly and surely he closed his fist. A maniacal grin spread across his face. He had finally taken the great man down, the engineer of a planet’s suppression for so many years. The Keepers would change, under his guidance they would turn into a guiding instead of a controlling force. It was his time to rule, Raven’s foul fist would become a thing of the past. He’d… Raven’s body fell to the ground.
Deadman’s expression switched to wariness as he stared into the eyes of the threat he had almost managed to subdue. Cat stared back seriously, drawing back the blade with which he had severed the bond between gauntlet and target.

‘Impressively decisive, I hope you realize the full implications of your actions Mr. Downs.’
‘I reckon I do. What is more doubtful is your perception of the matters at hand. What are your plans now that Raven is out of the picture? Or rather what is the final big picture in your mind?’
‘You’re wondering whether or not you should stand before or behind me.’
‘Wouldn’t you, if you were in my shoes?’
‘Oh, I’m not denying that. I think it comes down to another matter though, whether or not I trust you enough to let you cover me.’
‘That eliminates the matter at hand entirely.’
‘And I’m not going to lay out everything for you to ogle.’
Cat nodded politely and grabbed his sword double-handed. Deadman accepted the formal challenge with a curt bough and raised his fists. The first move came from Cat, a slow step forward. His opponent didn’t act upon this and merely started circling. Cat switched his step a bit to the left to cover Raven’s inert form. Another shuffle forward found Cat in the position he had hoped to attain. Without warning he set out forward, keeping his blade firm in hand to counter any attack Deadman might attempt.
Deadman’s attack came with a slight warning, the switch in footing. Cat picked it up before Deadman himself was aware he had given his move away. A shudder slashed through the air, was split midway by a sword and swept up two streaks of rubble where they scythed past the ground. In response Cat accelerated into a charge, his sword aimed at the opponent’s midriff.
With Cat’s defenses up Deadman’s only choice was to go try for a low sweep. Cat didn’t shift his blade one bit when the wave of force came in. A grinding sound rolled out as gravel and dirt shot up around his feet that flew out from under him. Deadman drew his hand back to complete the move, making sure that Cat went down in a staggered fall he wouldn’t likely break. He didn’t need to.
Before Cat even touched the soil again a silent, immaterial projectile drilled itself through one of Deadman’s gauntlets. The moment it hit the ground a muffled grind could be heard. Drawing back Deadman swept his hand in the general direction of the attacker’s location. Tset and Cholin were sent sprawling from Rat’s hideout. Rat merely retook his former position and squeezed again. This time the shot was met by a wave of force, leaving it to be no more than a dull sucker punch, which connected with Deadman’s jaw and set him stumbling back.


‘You’re not planning on charging in there?’
‘Sure, why not?’
‘We’re not a match for the forces working there, not even close, you’ll get yourself killed.’
‘Alone, yes. But with you and Shill along we’ll be able to at least create a diversion, so the other two can take Deadman down. Can you imagine what we’d have done then? We’d be heroes.’
‘Tset, you’re an incorrigible glory hound. And I’m not going along with it this time. And no amount of “awww, come on?” is going to dissuade me.’
‘Awwww, come on?’
Cholin walked away. This was not their fight. They were merely messengers and had probably already outran both their use and expiration date. Deadman could crush them with one finger if he so wished, even as a diversion they were worth nothing. Tset’s foothold was, as always, a gamble. Had he told of his idea to Rat he’d probably have a load of support along right there, but as it was he just stood around and kicked a stone idly. He stared up at the black hole in the sky. Raven, the leader of the Keepers, thereby probably the most powerful one, had already lost. What were the chances of the two standing against Deadman now. Tset wondered. Raven would have told him the chances were pretty good. Because they were, in the original plan where Raven was still standing once Cat and Rat interfered.
‘Look, this world will collapse in on itself soon,’ Cholin began. ‘As we speak the eyes of the world are turning this way. I’ve no idea what Deadman told his own men exactly but the thousands working under him can’t have expected something like this to happen. The war has probably ended by now and the people need someone they can trust to bring them the facts of this story.’
‘You mean to say our part hasn’t been played yet?’
‘I have no idea who had planned what but the facts at hand point to a big role in the days to come for us and Shill. The public will never accept the word of an ex-mercenary or a syndicate lord, the Keepers will need us after this, alive and well. We can’t go about this rashly. We’ll just have to hope Deadman’ll lose.’
Tset’s mind accepted the words but his heart was not as eager to follow just yet.


Cat came up and in rapidly. Deadman opened his remaining gauntlet downward and flung himself up into the air. Rat tracked the ex-Keeper but was caught by another wide sweep before he could squeeze the trigger. Upon Deadman’s gauntlet cushioned landing Cat came at him again. But the short time spent in the air had allowed him to pull his remain sword back into his injured hand. The two blades met loudly.
Rat tried to find an opening as the exchange of sword clashes continued but the speed with which the two wove around one another kept him from a clear line of fire. He squeezed off a shot that went overhead but the concentration of the two upon one another and the soundlessness and invisibility of his weapon’s fire made sure they didn’t notice. To his side he saw Shill peering over the edge in rapt interest. The proud lieutenant had undergone a remarkable transition from actor to audience.
‘Impressive skills those two have, don’t they?’
‘Their style is strange, a combination of the graceful strokes of the desert dwellers and the decisive style of the Derrem woodsmen. The way they combine it adds up to something completely different though, the transition techniques that keep the flow of the fight going are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.’ Shill answered Rat’s absent question.
Rat pulled his face away from his rifle and stared at his neighbor wide-eyed.
‘As part of the Black Wing training for induction into the officer rank one is forced to learn how to wield the sword. I myself took it a bit further. But these two are really something. Hey, fire!’
Rat almost dropped his rifle as he scrambled back behind his gun-sight. He saw the two swordsmen standing back from one another, waiting for the other to act. Rat followed Shill’s advice and fired. Deadman had expected as much and raised his hand to counter the rifles tight beam shockwave with a wider version of his own. In response to that Cat made his move and came forward. Deadman’s hand followed up by pointing downward, creating a quake. Cat set off from the ground with the last bit of muscle that he could still stretch in his leg. Deadman’s own blade came in time to defend but he almost lost his grip upon it due to the impact.
Rat fired again and caught Deadman in the side. A shockwave buffeted Cat aside as Deadman flailed wildly. Cat still continued his attack and managed a scraping attack that took Deadman’s sword from his injured hand. To prevent another follow-up Deadman hit the ground with his gauntlet. A wall of force sent Cat to the ground some five meters back and nullified Rat’s next shot.

‘Oh come on, come on, give me a sign…’
Rat wasn’t amused as he stared at the cloud of dust the latest shockwave had shuffled up. Amusement came when Deadman moved again. Rat placed the shot exactly on the head. Without being able to see his foe or being able to know that it was coming Deadman sent a lance of force Rat’s way. The sniper was hit right on the jaw and flipped over backward, slammed onto the ground with the back of his head and rolled down the ruin-hill.
‘Ha!’ Deadman uttered, a loud bang echoed the self congratulatory snippet of speech.
On the hill Cholin was joined by his two subordinates who immediately turned back to help Rat. Shill stared intently at the cloud of smoke slowly drifting away. Deadman’s head was revealed and he was staring at Cat with hollow eyes, his mouth hanging wide open.
Cat let out a sigh and bent his head, the gun in his hand followed it downward. The cloud pulled away fully and revealed Deadman sitting on his knees, staring straight up at the sky, his entire throat was shot out by Cat’s prized FMJ pistol. The head was only attached to the body by a few strings of flesh.
‘That wraps that up.’
Shill stared in horror at Raven dusting himself down as he rose from the ground. The old Keeper walked over to Deadman’s corpse and pulled the gauntlet from the man’s lifeless hand. A terrible scraping sound was heard as Raven crushed the weapon under his heel.
‘So what now?’ Cat demanded.
‘Now we see if the new generation is really up for the job they want to fill in so badly.’
Rat retook his position and pointed his weapon at the black haired man who stood motionless.

‘You’re not going through with this Raven!’
‘Reaper? With the time you took I had already assumed you were dead.’
‘Don’t play games with me Raven, I know too much to be pushed around so easily.’
‘I think you’ll find that you’re not the one holding the most knowledge, besides me of course.’
Raven slipped back, Silencer’s blade came slicing past his head. He flung his body around backward and slammed his heel unto the infiltrator’s shoulder in a back-flip-axe-kick. Silencer stepped in and back slightly before he launched himself forward again. His opponent came slipping through the triple attack he had launched with a knee, elbow and a fist. Even with his body bent in an akward angle Raven only needed to stretch out his arm and flip his momentum sideways to take down Silencer with a haymaker to the side of the chest. Even with the protective suit a few bones cracked.
‘Do we really need to continue this or are you guys going to submit right now?’
‘Never!’ Reaper outed in anger.
‘Step back.’ Cat’s cold voice caught the company off guard, they simply stared at the man’s grim face. ‘You will leave him be.’
‘Hey, if you want him he’s all yours…’ Reaper began but was cut off.
‘We will just let him go.’
All around jaws fell open. Rat was the only one who didn’t seem to mind. He simply flipped the lid onto the sight of his rifle and got up from the ground with a sigh.
‘Finally we’re going to get some answers.’
---------------
And yes, chapter 23, the last one, is indeed called Answers.

[Vortigar]

Well this is it then, the last chapter. I sure hope you can latch on to what I’m trying to say here. I spent quite some time worrying on what to say and how to say it. In the end I just got sick of it and slammed this down as the final cut.

The last paragraph is actually a setup for a third book. I had originally wanted to avoid creating a trilogy but it is only now that I realise how convenient writing a trilogy is, story wise. I have nothing planned so far for the third part however and it may be some time before it’ll come to be, if ever.

Once again I thank you Kabob for holding on where all others have left off. So many have kept urging me on but you’re the only one that kept with me all the way. I’ll cut this off before it gets too mushy… ^_^

For the last time:
Engage!
-------------------
Answers

‘What, you’re going to let him just walk? After all he’s done?!’
‘Yes Reaper, and as prime offended I think Rat and I have the highest say in this.’
Reaper looked at Cat doubtfully, then recognized determination on that face.
‘Do as you will. Deadman’s gone that’s all that matters.’
‘So Raven, since I just saved you a lot of trouble, would you mind telling what you’ll be doing now all this is over?’
Raven righted himself and looked at the company around him, including Rat and the three Black Wingers up on their ledge. He rested his eyes on Cat and took a deep breath.
‘As I’ve already told Deadman, though he probably didn’t listen, I’ve played my part and will retire from the Keepers, unless you want me around…’ Raven let his eyes glide around once more. ‘Thought so. Everything I had planned out has come to it’s end. I still have some processes running, yes, but those ideas will revolve onward without my interference.’
‘What, that’s it? You’re a spineless piece of…’
Reaper waved Silencer to silence.
‘There are other, more pressing, reasons for my retirement than this defeat and your distrust of me.’
Silencer’s stare spelled out the words “yeah right” just as clearly as if he would have said them.
‘Who here was planned to be here?’ Rat called out as he descended toward the rest of the group.
‘Ah, an intelligent question. I see you’ve been digging through the records. Shill is the only one who’s not supposed to be here actually. Ghost and Wolf are as yet lacking. The latter obviously because he’s dead. The former, I don’t know really, care to enlighten us Silencer?’
He put the question to Silencer directly to draw him into the conversation. Raven knew he still held a little trust from Reaper and a tiny shred from all the others, but Silencer was the problem and thus needed attention.
‘She’ll be around shortly, the depot has been destroyed as “planned”.’
‘Good, once she gets here she’ll have everything with her she’ll need to get things rolling.’
‘To get what rolling?’ Once more Silencer.
‘The reconstruction of course. A process I will have no part in by logical choice, even if you had wanted me. I might be able to give you a hand with solving the issues around that gaping hole in the sky.’ He pointed upward. ‘That was originally Wolf’s task but he will have to be replaced with lieutenant Shill, one of the few things I didn’t see coming by the way, however obvious it now is in retrospect. Then again, looking back, one always has that idea.’

‘I concluded as much.’
‘Which is exactly why you two are here Cat and Rat, you know of my far going interference in your lives. As you’ve already concluded, you’ve been groomed for a certain task. It was most unfortunate that my hand was forced to draw you in so early. I originally had planned for you to enter the game just now. As it turns out the way things went with you might have a positive reflection in the future.’
Reaper had been standing silent all the time, connecting dots inside his mind.
‘So you not only recruited Deadman, you trained him and guided him until he broke away from the Keepers. You’ve been checking his moves all the way and engineered your own downfall.’
‘Indeed Mr. Reaper, I’ve been plotting ever since I first became a Keeper. The system in place when I joined was flawed, the plan was insane, I would not stand for it. Thus I became its champion and turned the stakes up against me. I would not have others fall and create splinter groups. It had to be me myself that embodied the worst, since I knew I could not escape from myself, well, obviously.’
By this point Silencer was already rattling. He couldn’t tell heads from tails in the whole affair anymore. With a dull thump he sat down on the ground, mumbling to himself what he knew. What he had been told to do. How his actions affected the whole. What his mistakes might have been.
‘You needn’t worry too much Silencer. You were out of touch for most of the time. You had to be, as a spy you have a remarkable talent for soaking up impulses and acting upon them. If you’d have spent more time with me I am quite certain you would have figured something out, which was of course too great a risk. Your ignorance of the matter was essential to its success.’
‘Meaning I am too slow to pick things up?’ Reaper added a grumpy laugh.
‘No, not at all. You were recruited earlier and I put a lot more effort into keeping your nose pointed the right way. Wolf was the hardest one to keep in line. I admit, I thoroughly indoctrinated you Reaper, but I needed a mind thinking alongside mine to keep things rolling, even if the ends were totally unknown.’
Reaper wasn’t at all satisfied, angered even, but he kept it quiet.
‘The crux then.’ Rat, who had finally reached them, stated.
‘What was it that didn’t feel right, what was it that forced you to plan this whole affair out?’ Cat continued Rat’s line.

‘Ah yes, the nature of the problem. Cat and Rat, you know I have been influencing your lives from day one to bring you up to this point. Furthermore you’ve been led to believe that this was merely a way to create two very strong willed people that would make good Keepers. This last is not true, as you may have figured out.’ Cat nodded.
‘Let me tell you then that not only your lives have been socially engineered but your very mind has been built. Rat and Gorgon both underwent a process of mind alteration to keep them on the sidelines for a while, to keep their actual programming supressed. Something I regret dearly, not in the least because it cost us Gorgon’s life.’ A smile covered both Cat and Rat’s faces.
‘Oh, she may yet be alive then. Very well, only for the better.’ Raven looked up at the black square in the sky again and recomposed his thoughts.
‘Now with all the remarkable powers you’ve seen used by myself, Harlequin, Wrathbringer and specifically Lunatic it isn’t hard to believe that we’re able to manipulate the human physique to quite an extent. But for such changes to be made to someone the body has to be very young indeed. And this is the problem, since I’m not talking about children, I’m talking about three weeks after conception, tops.’ Raven paused to let that one sink in.
‘Ever since before you were even born you were already planned to become one of us. That’s how Wrathbringer, Wolf, Reaper, Lunatic all came to be in their place, they were planned to work like this or that in conjunction with one another by virtue of their own nature. Indeed Silencer, by virtue of their genetic makeup.’
A few surprised looks flipped around the attendees. The three Black Wingers, who’d just joined them, stood around a bit agitated, unsure if they were really supposed to be hearing this. Reaper assured them with a nodding look and bade them to keep still with a gesture of his hands.
‘But it doesn’t end there. I told you I found the nature of the plan in progress to be quite offensive and had to end it. If this was all then I’d have said it was no problem, cultivation of the strongest possible attributes within man to achieve perfection is alright as long as the lesser elements are not opressed or discriminated. Everyone in this world is subject to gene-splicing and cultural, evolutionary planning. And I do mean everyone. I didn’t need to go to your parents Cat to treat them so that someone with your skills was born. I merely read the information off a computer screen and came over to pick you up, so to say.’

‘Then of course, the question arises why this is all so. That one is easy to answer. This world is not a world at all. This rock with its several million inhabitants is a weapon.’
Raven continued straight through the gasps that statement prompted.
‘An experimental weapon intended to deal with a projected alien threat. Humanity’s greatest weapon, we all know, is its adaptability. We’re not fast, we’re not strong, we’re not hyper intelligent, as some claim. We are creative, that is our nature. We think around the corner. Emotions play a huge part in this since it allows us to reason without actual reason behind our reasoning. So how does one defeat an enemy who has better technology and thus is more powerful and faster? Exactly one deploys man’s mass-creative mind.’
‘Everyone on this world when it was originally cultured over six-thousand years ago is a product of science. All of us, except for a few, were created as a baseline creature and edited, genetically, from there. A world was created for us, protected by a shell against any form of attack. For all we know there is a trail of destroyed spaceships drifting about behind us, eliminated by the auto-defense systems. Man put everything they had and knew into this one enormous spaceship. They created a world filled with people who would build up a civilization that would eventually use up the planet’s resources and collapse in upon itself. At the apex of that collapse, when man’s drive for survival would be at its peak this planet would crash unto a colony of our great enemy, an unknown alien threat.’
‘I do not know what these aliens are, all that is stored within the Shell of them is that they are a vicious breed to be destroyed. How we know this, or if our homeworld itself has not already been destroyed I could not find.’
‘There was however one flaw in their plan. They created eleven people to guard over this creation of theirs, they were to maintain the Shell and guide the civilization below upon their course.’
Cat stepped forward and took the word.
‘Those eleven were to be called the Ancients, since they would live forever, for the entire ride through space. Allow me to introduce the flaw in the system, the eleventh Ancient who developed sympathy for the inhabitants of, literally, a bomb.’
Cat put a hand on Raven’s shoulder. ‘And that is why we’re letting him go.’

Raven walked away solemnly. He would face the judgment of his peers seven years from now, when his term as Ancient would run out and he’d have to store himself in the tube that currently held Gorgon alive. Cat knew this and somewhere deep down that was the real reason he had let Raven walk. The Ancient had all but destroyed the plan and created a breeding ground for a new generation, new plans, new ideas. By letting their existence be known to the entire world the Ancients had lost their power. And he would be the one to answer for it. And he would answer for it for at least six-thousand years as he would be hooked into the system and the minds of the other Ancients. If they were to ever catch him, for he would not return voluntarily.
Gorgon’s fate, as an inhabitant of one of the tubes, was different since she lacked the equipment linked into the brain that would hook her up to the thoughts of the others. She would simply heal and be released, manually, once she had fully recuperated.
Raven bent his head back and stared up at the black square in the sky.
‘Good luck.’


Chaos broke out at PC after Shill had finished his explanation and the different microphones of the delegations gathered were put back online. The Black Wing lieutenant was escorted out. He would survive twenty-eight attempts on his life, some seemingly through miracles, before dying of natural causes at the age of seventy-one.
The talks of that evening lasted far into the night. Multiple plans were erected and thrown out. True peace would only be found after three years of debate on a matter only very few really understood. None of the ones who did were present at those debates.
The ultimate decision was to form a committee to investigate what the giant thing in the sky actually was. Ghost became the public representative of the Keepers, the unofficial name of the committee erected. Her two right hand men, Trevor Downs the second and Michael Listener became celebrated scientists on the field of Shell-technology.
The works of those great four went into history as the most influential ever known, though the true purpose of the Shell was never revealed to the public in their lifetimes. At least, the lifetime they had under the public eye.


‘Is there any chance of consolidating the plan?’
‘Raven did a very thorough job.’
‘There are still a few dedicated people to be born.’
‘But with social parameters tampered with will they become the saviors of a world otherwise doomed?’
‘Only time will tell.’
‘We can only guess what will happen once I awaken.’
‘Once again, time is at our side in that. The current generation will not outlast us.’
‘I’m afraid your rule will be wrought with much pain.’
‘I doubt you will be able to call it rule at all.’
‘But one thing stands paramount. Your arrival and actions will define the future.’
‘Raven taught us that counts for every one of us.’
‘It is still a matter of ten versus one.’
‘I wouldn’t speak so positive. We might soon have a world to contend with.’
‘Yes, we must plan these matters carefully.’
‘Raven’s return to our fold is essential.’
‘He will not return.’
‘Are you certain, he’s driven to survive.’
‘He’s shown more drive to create freedom for these insects down there.’
‘If you can call it freedom.’
‘Another champion must be cultivated, if one of us can turn the project this way, another one can turn it that way.’
‘Very well, but whom.’
‘The list is large, problem is, it is also exhaustive and a true candidate has not been found.’
‘Raven taught us better than that.’
‘He made a candidate for himself.’
‘He made more than one.’
‘I think we are on to something.’
‘I concur.’
‘But that still won’t make my acceptance a fact.’
‘Your rule will be opposed directly.’
‘The next one beyond you will be able to implement the new plan.’
‘Unless…’
‘Indeed!’
‘Gentlemen, I think we have found our solution.’
-------------------
Well, what did you think? Have I managed to put in more than it seemed? Or had you thought this out yourself?

The true question is, is there anything you found lacking in the explanation?

Vorty’s next project: an Iria: Zeiram fanfic depicting Gren’s life… (my first actual fanfic, weird eh?) I picked a simple setting and my own, very weird ideas about it.

[Kabobward]

Well, what did you think? Have I managed to put in more than it seemed? Or had you thought this out yourself?

It's a lot to take in, so you've definately managed to put in more than it seemed.



The true question is, is there anything you found lacking in the explanation?

It makes sense, I think. I don't think anything is lacking. It's a bit hard to make sense of EVERYTHING right now for me. There's a lot to take in for one chapter, and it's 4 in the morning. I mean, I've been reading for months now. It's hard to keep track of everything.

From the ending there, I take it you'll be making a third?



Vorty’s next project: an Iria: Zeiram fanfic depicting Gren’s life… (my first actual fanfic, weird eh?) I picked a simple setting and my own, very weird ideas about it.

I have no clue what that is.

I'm wondering, do you have any plans of writing for a career?

[Vortigar]

Originally I hadn't planned for anything beyond Corsair 1, but as things roll on I keep thinking up more stuff. The Ancients were an idea I had tumbling around since halfway down part 1 but I couldn't just pull that can open. With the ending i had in mind for part 2 they would have to show up there but splicing the story to pieces after opening and focusing almost solely on Cat & Rat (once again) seemed like a bad idea...

This Corsair deal seems to be growing in the same direction as Asimov's Foundation from which it borrows a lot of ideas (although I hadn't read the books at the time). The other Ancients have still to be released and, worse yet, the planet has still to reach its intended target, even beyond that one could envisage a more coherent description of the universe after the conflict with the aliens... if they end up to be aliens at all in the first place... (nice Nadesico swing-clincher that'd be, neh?)

The last paragraph seemed to fit nice but forces a part 3 to come. I have no idea what or how that thing is going to look however, so for now I'm aiming for a few other things (the Iria fic mentioned, as well as a Blood (the pc game) fic and I've got a wicked plot on a Warhammer 40K Inquisitor tangling with Tzeentch that seems to grow each time I jot up a few notes about it, which is about every week or so).

I've certainly considered a proffessional (?) career but haven't put anything forth what one'd call an attempt to become a writer. I'd love to do so but I've been digging through what the Dutch community looks for in writers nowadays and I can tell you, it's not stuff like this... English seems to be my tongue then. Maybe my 40K work could get me an opening at Games Workshop (they have a periodical with writings I could submit to). Then again I've just graduated and have no idea what I'm going to do exactly at this point...

In all, yes I'd love to become a writer and estimate my chances to be as good as the next flunkey that comes along (though I rarely like another writer's work, whereas I really enjoy my own quirks, I recently read Ovasra and was quite amazed at some points with how much I like my own work, that was soooo strange). I'll have to dig a bit and see how one creates chances in this business...

Thx for the support once again... really...

/me shuts sappyness down ^_^

[Kabobward]

Don't suppose you'll be posting anything else on here?

[Vortigar]

well actually I'm working on a follow up (not exactly a continuation, it's 600 years later) for the Ovasra right now and I am planning to put it up here...

I'm not sure as to when to start though, possibly next week...