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Thread: [M] War in the Shadows - Patriots IC

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    Default [M] War in the Shadows - Patriots IC


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    Spoiler: Sarna Astros - Baraspine 


    Spoiler: Enki Volkner, Omikron Zahir - Perinetus 
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


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    Stilat Cosmodrome, eighty three kilometers north of Ragnarov Forge
    Day 156 of Perinetus civil war


    Enki was silent as he reviewed the hololiths of the mission parameters and location. Control tower, fuel tanks, and gun batteries were optimal choices to cripple the base. Nearby, Zahir was covered in a scarlet cloak intoning his chants to prepare himself for the coming mission. The Fulgerite would make for a fantastic distraction as he let loose his building electric power. Enki was preparing in his own way as he mapped out the route he would take in the glorious destruction to come.

    To reduce their enemies to smoldering ruin was to prove one’s ideas superior. When the opponent would not budge, they had to be shown the right way. Blessed ruin would rain down upon those who opposed them and the fires cleanse the weakness from their bodies and their souls. Such rot and unclear thought often permeated both those within the Priesthood of Mars and those without. Enki’s career was built on the ruined buildings and charred bones of those upon whom he rained retribution on.

    Enki was well-armed with his needed explosives and weapons. The arms on his back were ready as well with the grav-gun and rad-cleanser primed. He was ready to do battle with their enemies and bring down their walls around them. The bolts released as Zahir stood and threw the robe off to reveal his glittering form. Before the end of Sova’s order, Zahir was gone from the lander in a blur of electric energy. After all he had to expend all the motive energy he built up and the fuel tanks were a fine target for him as well as the control tower.

    Enki stomped down the ramp, heading toward the gun batteries. There were security forces responding to the gunfire but they met a grisly end within the confines of their transport. From the dish-like weapon on his body, the Magos fired a blast intense, cross-spectrum radiation that cooked the people inside alive. Enki picked up speed, his massive frame deceptively fast in terms of momentum even if it lacked fine agility.

    <Zahir will certainly get noticed,> Enki canted back to Sova through a heavily encrypted and protected channel. <He can handle it but I will do my utmost to accelerate the completion of our objective here. In the meantime, I request you explain the logic in your choosing the pair of us for this. It would follow that an assassin would want more discretion rather than quite the opposite.>

    Enki was no fool and of course had his own suppositions as to why but he wanted to see if the tech-assassin would give any sort of answer. Experience had taught him that such a lot were often possessed, and arguably blessed, with a particular way of thinking. He never did get to ask VK why he wore such ghoulish masks…

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    Spoiler: Enki Volkner, Omikron Zahir - Perinetus 
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


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    "Ofcourse I'll be careful. Watch yourselves, and good luck."

    She returned the salute and darted away, surefooted, her route already committed to memory.

    Servants entrance provides the best chance to get in undetected.

    She reached the next grate and slowly levered it up. The street was surprisingly quiet. But then, she imagined most of the nobles cowering in safe rooms in their villas, to shield them from the incoming attack. She tapped the pair of meltabombs on her belt and smiled wickedly. A safe room door would not be a problem.

    She levered and pushed the grate the rest of the way aside and belly-crawled out of the duct, and under a parked up cargo-8. She quickly pulled out a pair of modified magnoculars and scanned the building, noting the wrought iron fence was electrified, the servo skulls drifting on their slow laps, and the distinctive marks left in grass by the clawed feet of cybermastiffs. Sarna scoffed. She thought these people lived in fear of assassination.

    She crossed the street quickly, and worked her way around the wall. She vaulted it from a nearby parked hovercar and landed in an ornamental tree. A luxury, but one that would get its owners killed.

    She paused, and watched as a cybermastiff prowled below her. She snapped some kind of nut from the tree, and tossed it so it rang of an electrified fence nearby. The cybermastiff immediately moved off, which allowed her to jump to the villas wall and begin climbing around.

    In a few minutes she dropped down in front of the servants entrance. She tried her contact lenses, and smiled as once again, their contacts information proved good. The door slid open with a chime, and she slipped into the house proper, drawing her power sword and a long, poisoned stiletto.

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    Spoiler: Sarna Astros - Baraspine 
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


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    <Quite the intensive guards,> Enki mused as he regarded the Guardians. <Zahir, help us deal with these. And be mindful of their rad-vents.>

    Sova had given the Magos plenty to think on as his aid squared his shoulders and readied his staff to drain the energy from the Scyllax. Or at least draw their attention enough to let Enki get the doors open before blasting them apart. The Magos understood Sova’s point of view because he, in large part, shared it. The inevitable entropy of all things was a masterful part of the Machine God’s will. Even at its greatest state of disorder, the light and motive spark of the Omnissiah could be seen within the threads of the universe. Their brothers in the priesthood were blinded by their own convictions and confirmation biases, as Sova said. And those who were not, such as his dear cousin sheltered away in her Ark, were few and far between.

    But it mattered very little, Enki thought as his grav-gun thumped out a blast aimed to cripple one of the advancing Guardians as his power axe cracked to life. It mattered little because the truth would win out one way or another. Those who were foolish, misguided, and naïve would be shown the true light of the Omnissiah through glorious conflict. Through blessed destruction. Destruction like what raged around them as fires consumed more of the port and as powerful electric blasts arced from Zahir along with his ranting litanies.

    It was a glorious symphony. One that, in Enki’s presence, was blessed. Their ideals and their desires would be vindicated in the eyes of the Machine God.

    In the moments after his grav-gun let loose its blast of crushing force to one of the advancing Guardians, Enki surged toward it with the intent of finishing it off by driving his power axe into the Scyllax’s engine. With the shielding afforded by the design of his body, the potential radiation vent of the machine’s death throes would be harmless.

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    Spoiler: Enki Volkner, Omikron Zahir - Perinetus 
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 01-12-2019 at 04:28 PM.
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


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    <You must be getting old.> The cant came over Enki’s private channel and drew his impassive face toward the smirking visage of Zahir. If Enki could manage it, he would look affronted.

    <Excuse me?>

    <You just let an automata, of all things, almost peel a layer off one of your legs! How long has it been since you actually engaged in close combat, Magos? Ten years? Longer? You are slow, so sayeth my observations.>

    <It was a calculated risk. One that paid off.>

    <Paid off how? In dousing you in rads and reminding you your form is, and always has been, complete shit?>

    Enki’s rebuttal was interrupted by Sova, thankfully. The tech-assassin had a sound plan and a fine route to the generatorium, but Enki would make a slight alteration. If they were to truly neutralize the base, then they had to remove any chance there could be of repairing the power supply.

    But that could wait, he realized, as their new quarry made itself known. The sight of the menials fleeing set off residual feelings of disgust somewhere within Enki. Such weakness should be discarded and so he commended the tech-guard who remained to attempt to slow their advance. But it was an attempt in vain as Zahir reignited his electoos and took off to engage. His voltgeists shrieked in delight as they deflected incoming fire from the Luminen who sent off a blast of electricity from his outstretched hand that arched between two tech-guard standing too close together. A third fell from a crushing blow to his skull that sapped all the residual electric energy from his body and his implants.

    <Such work is never tiresome, assassin,> Enki intoned as he swung his meltagun to bear in his left hand and fired. The fusion blast all but cut one skitarii in half and a second pull of the trigger took off another’s head. <My personal account, not counting today, stands at one point two million sparks. The glorious days when I led my brothers in leveling cities that had fallen from the light of the Deus. Zahir keeps no such count.>

    <What use is counting the husks of the dead?> Zahir’s cant cut in suddenly as he fried another foe into a charred mess. <They are already lost to the darkness and thus not worthy of any sort of memory or sparing thought! Those who fall before the true servants of the Deus are only useful as fuel for the righteous!>

    In the height of his mania, Zahir was certainly less than the reasonable observer of Enki’s state that he was meant to be. Yet in doing their glorious work, Zahir could give no less than everything he had. He worried for his Magos, that was true, worried that his own pride would consume him to turn even against his new allies. But there was the spark of hope in that Sova was a kindred spirit in the glorious destruction they wrought upon those deprived of the guiding light of the Machine God.

    <I’ll destroy the generatorium if I have the ordinance,> Enki canted as his grav-gun sent a pair of attempted marksmen flying back into a nearby pillar with enough force to pulp their organs on impact.

    <Why delay the repairs by a few days when the potential outcome can be indefinite?>

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    Spoiler: Enki Volkner, Omikron Zahir - Perinetus 
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


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    “Who are you?” the man asked in a small voice. Sarna, who could make a game out of perfectly imitating accents, placed his as from somewhere further down the hive - the old Skaltine city district, perhaps.

    Who are you? Killer or saint? another voice buzzed, insistent behind her ear.

    "I'm here to clean house." She cocked her head, listening to the thump of artillery. The fighting was getting awfully close. Her window of opportunity was beginning to close. She fixed the man who had spoken with a glare, and smiled as he recoiled. She knew part of that was that she was unmasked, which was alien to him. She leant into it, looming over the pair.

    "Tell me where I can find the safe room, and your masters, and I'll let you go. Otherwise. . ." she gently prodded the man with her sword, rocking him back on his heels as he crouched. "Your masters will need to hire new help."

    The man swallowed, and looked like he had been about to have an outbreak of bravery/stupidity, but the woman grabbed his arm.

    "Downstairs. They're downstairs. A wine cellar. One of the casks, it has a fake front. It leads to a safe room."

    She nodded. It might also lead to an escape tunnel, or a trap. Certainly she wouldn't put it past an especially devious noble to tell his servants that the safe room was in one place, and then put it in another.

    "If you want my advice, and you do, hide, and stay away from the windows. If you call for help, I'll gut you like a fish. Are we clear?"

    They both nodded.

    "Understand I am being very generous and if you screw me over, you will regret it for a brief and painful span of time."

    They both nodded again.

    Sarna turned and left them alone, heading back to the kitchens. Silver plates still festooned the floor, scattered by the would-be looter, and the door he had fled through led to a small landing with a wooden staircase leading downward. The servants had been right about the wine cellar at least, as she soon found herself in a chilly stone room, lit by dingy lumoglobes. Dusty bottles lay on racks by the door, and further in the room was full of stacked wooden barrels and an alcoholic smell. The bigger casks could have easily fitted a grown man inside.

    “Hey Sarnie.” a voice in Sarna’s ear warned, this one channeling more benignly through her comm-bead. The vox transmission was fuzzy from her descent back into the interlevel below the thick hive floor-plates. “We’re in position, but don’t be too long. There’s something going on near the cargo elevators down the thoroughfare - I just saw an enforcer Rhino rolling that way.”

    The back wall was decorated with mounted cask-ends, stamped with the names of what Sarna presumed to be very expensive offworld imports. Pulling experimentally on them caused one to pop off the wall, revealing a smooth circular crawlspace behind. Her small frame fitted into it without difficulty. A few metres ahead was a circular steel door with a wheel-lock, and opening it revealed a narrow stone vestibule and a truly ancient arch, the carvings on it worn down to an unrecognisable blur. The doors installed within the arch however looked new and formidable, and the dark wood was many centimetres thick judging by the muffled voices coming from within.

    “Sir! Ma’am! The extraction team is here!” one voice came faintly, speaking in clipped High Gothic.

    “Only one of them?” replied another, more apprehensive.

    An unavoidable pict recorder glowered down at Sarna from above the arch. Next to the door was the grille of a vox-projector, which clicked into life and rattled a question at her.

    “Can you please authenticate?”


    "The rest are outside, covering the retreat route to the transport." She lied smoothly. Lies came very easily to her.

    "We aren't going anywhere. . . "

    Crimson Lacuna Crow Decimus. it chuckled in her ear.

    "Without the authorisation code, I know. I wasn't given it. Let me contact my team leader."

    She made a show of placing a finger to her ear and stepping back from arch, just out of sight, as she looked the door over. No way she could get that open without them knowing she was hostile, and she couldn't dodge bullets. She hated that the. . . thing had given her an easy out, a simple solution. But she didn't see another right now. She stepped back into view of the pict recorder, and looked up into it.

    "Crimson Lacuna Crow Decimus. Now hurry, things are going to shit out there."

    There was a pause, and the door began to hiss open. She tapped her foot impatiently. She hadn't been lying about time being of the essence.

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