Nerrone's Rangers IC

"Point taken." Rhak said and gave back the borrowed rifle to Flank and drew his own pistol.
He checked the magazine and the barrel before unsecuring it.

Bianca felt a pang of guilt not staying back or even not thinking of Grey at the time. It was too late though. The mechs would've killed him off anyway. She needed to move on with the mission. Herself and Chalen got themselves on to their feet and made their way to the rest of NR. They were already trying to come up with a brilliant battle stratagy yet no one seems to have agreed. Chalen suggested he could take the assualt front since he had his armor (that's almost bashed up completly) and the clawhands for the attack. Bianca's suggestion is she could sneak her way in, go invisable but reminded them it only lasts a minute (which is personally embarassing for herself). Though they weren't really sure if their ideas were any better.

Grey's armor took most of the damage, but one shot managed to get through his armor, he swore and coughed up a little bit of blood, but quickly retaliated and shot the turret.

"Where are you guys?! I can't get out of this alone, unless you want to carry me out in a body bag, I need back up!"

Grey's heart dropped when he heard the sound of two mechs pounding on the ground, quickly approaching his position.

"Damn it!"

As the mechs jumped over the desk, Grey's enhancements kicked in. He shot is foot forward and activated his jump jets, melting the legs of one of the mechs and shot it in the head. The other mech brought his wrist blade up, attempting to skewer him, he lunged out of the way, but he wasn't fast enough. The powered blade slid through his armor and went through his abdomen, he yelled in pain and shot the other mech. Through his heartbeat, he could faintly hear the monotone drone of his suit.

"Medical suite has been powered down, user movement is now possible."

He slowly pulled himself up, covering his open wound. He was close to the staircase, if he was fast enough, he could escape and hopefully find the rest of the Rangers. He didn't take the time to scan his environment, he just ran for it. It didn't matter to him, he would be dead if he didn't at least try.

He began making his way for the door at a half jog half limp, he looked over to see the other mechs starting to take aim at him. He tried to go faster, but the pain he was feeling wasn't allowing it.

The first shots began flying out at him, most of them going wide and hitting the wall behind him, but some of them flew dangerously close to him.

Then a shot hit him in the shoulder.

He fell to the ground and started writhing in pain. He was dead unless he could figure something out, fast.

He then remembered a function he had installed into his suit long ago, he didn't know if it would still work or if would actually work, but he was willing to take a gamble if it meant his survival.

"Alright, lets play dead." Grey sputtered.

"Acknowledged, dispensing anesthetics, and masking lifesigns. Conscience will be regained in one hour."

Grey closed his eyes, and passed out.

Dagon nodded, "Right then," he said, still speaking softly, "Me and Chalen'll take point; Flank, Kwa, stay behind us 'till we need to get in close; Bor, Xol, on my left; Rhak, Grecsh, cover our right flank. Bianca: come in behind us and use your camouflage to get a good spot for a shot. We move in fast and secure the area ASAP. Understood?"

Kwa drew her blade and gave Dagon a single curt nod.

"Here we go..."

With that, Dagon grasped both door handles and flung them wide.


The Hub was dark: a large, circular room with computer terminals stacked on either side and tall windows running the circumference — or at least, one could only presume that was what they were, as by some technology they were currently totally black and opaque. The only light in the room emanated from the rows of computers, blinking and whirring quietly in the darkness, and a set of three large viewing screens set on a slightly raised platform directly opposite the doors: they showed only static. Silhouetted alone against the flickering monitors was a seated figure.

Bor moved into position. As he entered the room, he quickly took his bearings as he searched for potential targets. To his surprise, he found none but the figure seated at the front of the room.

That can't be right.

He aimed his guns at the figure, but kept looking around in case he'd missed someone. Unless the other guards had some kind of camouflage technology, the room was otherwise empty.

"Flank, Kwa, stay behind us 'till we need to get in close; Bor, Xol, on my left; Rhak, Grecsh, cover our right flank."

"I thought I was going behind you- Oh, right."
Flank took his position next to Kwa, but he tried not to focus on that; he needed his nerves. He hefted the rifle — it was his rifle as much as it was Rhak's — and ducked behind Dagon. He expected an absolute hailstorm when the Arthinnil flung the doors open, so he was thrown off by the tranquillity of the control hub.

He kept his head down and slowly advanced with the other rangers, and would have maintained a serious demeanour if his helmet didn't blare noisily into his ears.
"Where are you guys?! I can't get out of this alone, unless you want to carry me out in a body bag, I need back up!"
Flank's stomach almost dropped through his abdomen. It was Grey, and he was alive. More importantly, he was probably aware that the rangers present had pretty much left him for dead. Flank was sure that they had heard him too.
He leaned further forward and whispered to Dagon: "I suggest we get a move on so we can save Grey. Let's sort this guy out now and shut down the security systems."

Dagon nodded in mute agreement, levelling his weapon at the figure seated on the far side of the room.


"It seems we were not formally introduced when last we met."

The voice boomed out across the hub without warning — Dagon visibly started, and it was only a moment later he realised that the main display screen at the far end of the room was no longer blank: from the looks of things, someone was broadcasting a live audio communications feed directly through Sapphire Point's network.

"My name is Kirrian Dorn, and this is the third time you have found yourselves between my instruments of choice and their goals. This trend has not escaped my attention."

The voice may have even been vaguely familiar to any of the Rangers that had been present aboard the Ponderra, though that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Rhak had listened to the entity calling itself Kirrian Dorn, as he scanned the right flank for any mechs or other technological abominations.
He seemed confident, almost arrogant. This thought made Rhak have the cold feel of an icy wind.
____________________
The same did Aleon Faw, as he sat in the back of a small shuttle. The brutish Acheen had trouble dodging the equally violent shots fired from the Kingdom cruiser and the city.
But the Zeenor just sat in the back seat, smoking on of his cigarettes. The trails were taken by the wind and flew out the open window of the shuttle.
"Sir, you might want to rethink this." The Acheen said, while giving of grunts and moans as he tried to stear the shuttle safely to Sapphire Point.
"Don't you worry. They don't seem to care about us. So just get to Sapphire Point and we'll be alright." Aleon answered, taking a deep breath of smoke, its lean flavor filling his lungs smoothering them.
"And hope Rhak wouldn't be there to great you". The Zeenor thought as the shuttle jerked as a burning piece of metal flew past it.

Delta wrote:

Dagon nodded, "Right then," he said, still speaking softly, "Me and Chalen'll take point; Flank, Kwa, stay behind us 'till we need to get in close; Bor, Xol, on my left; Rhak, Grecsh, cover our right flank. Bianca: come in behind us and use your camouflage to get a good spot for a shot. We move in fast and secure the area ASAP. Understood?".

(Chalen) "This should be fun." Chalen doubled check everything before whispering to Dagon he was good to go. The duo entered an area which is known as the Hub. Loads of highly advanced computers took most of the space though most of them are charred/worn out from their usefulness. As much as the Space Sprite hated not knowing advanced technology, he thought they once contained various information like possible trades. One lone computer's flickering screen reveled a seated figure's shadow (of some sort).
"It seems we were not formally introduced when last we met." The sudden booming voice only made Chalen jump a little. It didn't look like anyone was there in fact it was being broadcasted through Sapphire Point's network.

"My name is Kirrian Dorn, and this is the third time you have found yourselves between my instruments of choice and their goals. This trend has not escaped my attention." Chalen barely remembered that voice from the Ponderra as it was a long time for him.
----
(Bianca) "I won't let you or the rest of NR down. I'll do my best." As she followed Chalen and Dagon into the room ie. better known as the Hub, she quickly went invisable. Nothing will detect her as long she stays out of sight. Bianca still followed the duo until she was further instructed by Dagon.

"My reasons for interrupting your little... soiree are rather simple," The voice continued, "I am going to ask you a question, and you are going to answer it. In return, I shall leave your fate to my puppet here, rather than simply turning the Sword of Damocles on this tower and reducing Sapphire Point to rubble. What say you?"


The distant thundering boom of bomb blasts reached the ears of the Rangers even here at the top of the tower. The Kingdom strike cruiser Sword of Damocles, still hovering above Santa Frerraro, rained terror on the city below unopposed.

Dagon, for his part, seemed taken aback by this turn of events — uncertain how to reply, if at all. Behind him, Kwa frowned and said nothing, appearing to ignore the broadcast completely — instead straining to try and hear anything out of place amongst the background noise in the room.

...Nothing.

After an awkward moment of silence, Bor decided to speak up. "What's the question?" Can't hurt to ask.

"I want to know who you answer to. The Ponderra, the police bureau — irritating case, that one, far too much effort expended just for Sapphire Point's access codes — and now Sapphire Point itself have found you right at the centre of events as they unfold. So tell me: who orchestrates your efforts with such foresight?"

"We're mercenaries," Bor cautiously replied. "We work for the highest bidder, whoever that might be.

"Those incidents you mentioned...the Ponderra, the police bureau...as far as I know they're not related to each other."

Flank glared about the room as subtly as he could with his cannon, all the while taking in everything this Kirrian Dorn said. He hadn't heard of the Ponderra or the police bureau, although it make him think of the security forces of Las Thaddas, who's rifle he now held.

He was shifting from foot to foot, impatient to resolve the dilemma and rush back to help Grey, if such a thing could still be done. He gathered that the Rangers had so far crossed paths with the Kingdom at least twice before he came across them, and that the Kingdom itself found it an annoyance.

"An intriguing answer, to be sure," Dorn replied, "and more important, I think, than you yet realise. I am satisfied."

Without another word, the broadcast was severed. Replacing it on the main screens was a new message:



The figure seated in front of the screens remained where it was.

Both Xol's and Grecsh's stomachs did full 180s at the sight of the new message. The Selthem instinctively ran towards the nearest computer terminal and began frantically typing away, trying to get into whatever he could in a mad rush to stop the countdown.

Grecsh, on the other hand, turned to the leaders of the Rangers, and said loudly and quickly, "Kwa, Dagon, orders!?"

"Shut that thing down!" Dagon called back, as the timer began counting down the alarmingly short supply of seconds, "Advance and secure the area!"

Unfortunately for Xol, it rapidly became clear that the computer terminals in the hub had been securely locked down: no-one would be able to get into the system without the seven-digit access code, and hacking into it would take far more time than they had. The only exception seemed to be a terminal on the left computer bank: one screen, visible on the corner closest to the main monitoring station, showed a live video feed of the foyer on a low-brightness setting.

Flank was under a lot of pressure. On top of his obligation to help Grey, he had to endure the agonising slowness of the encounter with Kirrian, which, paired with the aforementioned obligation, became downright unbearable. Now he had less than a minute to prevent an orbital weapon from firing. His short temper had finally caught up with him. He had simply run out of patience.

Without a backward glance he strode out from behind Dagon, his cannon revolving up and over his shoulder to bear on the seated figure. He marched recklessly toward the silhouette, his rifle and cannon trained on it. He gripped the rifle with a tightness that caused his dense, bony hands to turn white, while his shoulders bunched up around the base of his neck. He let out a low growl as he finally came upon whoever it was in that seat, and without hesitation, threw a hard right punch to its chin before lashing out with the same hand to grip it by the collar. He yanked the ambiguous character out of its seat.

"Shut this thing down NOW!" he bellowed, aiming his rifle at the figure's head with his left hand.

As Flank pulled the figure towards him, its chair falling away beneath it with a metallic clatter, it became clear all was not as it seemed: his furious glare was met by the glassy-eyed gaze of a dead man. A former employee of Sapphire Point. Throat cut. This was what Flank saw as the toxin synthesiser stuffed into the cadaver's mouth activated, releasing a concentrated burst of poisonous gas into Flank's face.

"If he didn't try to kill us, I'd admire him." Rhak thought. The person knew he had all the cards, and used them very well.
The Acheen's thoughts were interrupted by the hiss of gas, coming from the silhouette in the chair. Flank stood over it.
With a suprising speed, Rhak grabbed Flank and push him away from the cloud of gas coming from the figure.
Suddenly his intercom sounded. Rhak leaved Flank and answered the call, being met with a familiar voice that made unpleasent emotions stirr.
"Hello, Rhak. If you still call yourself that. I hoped we could talk."
"Faw. What do you want?"
"Nothing really. Just that I've invested a lot in you, and I won't give up on you until you have dealt with our... target, nemesis? Or what should I call him?"
Rhak signed and looked at the ticking seconds. The Kingdom weren't someone you fooled around with.
"What do you have in mind?" He asked the Zeenor.
"Go the east side of the facility, and jump out. I'll be waiting for you there."
"Are you insane? It is at least a 100 meters down."
______________________
Aleon started to get annoyed on the old contact's persistence. He put out his cigarrete.
"I don't know what you did inside Sapphire Point, but the Kingdom Cruiser looks ready to fire something devestating. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."
From the radiolink on the Zeenor's intercom, came a response.
"What about the rest of us?"
Aleon smirked in a grim fashion.
"I only have a place for one other, Rhak. I think it fits you perfectly."

Chalen got terrified when the new message flashed across the screen. Dagon ordered all NR to shut this thing down before only Spode knows what happens. This action made the Space Sprite brave again. At that moment, Bianca meterlized next to him (she had wasted that minute for nothing) ready to fight at his side. She firmly gripped her weapons and slowly flexed her shoulders.

"Chalen if it's cool with you, I'll stay by yours and Dagon's side cause..well I'm visable again and I have to wait a good few minutes before the next use."

"Just make sure we not be killed and hopefully see this through."

The two are for once prepared for whatever came at them.

Flank copped half a lung of the poisonous gases. They were nothing like the toxic smoke of his volcanic home world, but he liked to think that they gave him some sort of resistance. He was on his knees where Rhak had pushed him, one hand on the floor, the other gripping his abdomen as he hacked up whatever he could of the gaseous booby trap. He flapped his right wing to move the air away from him.

When at last he expelled the last of the poison from his lungs, he stood up. His little charade had not only had him gassed, it revealed that he had less than he thought he did: he thought he had the perpetrator responsible in his grasp.

Wheeling around, he began to yell. Nothing in the way of cohesive words, just a long, loud expression of fury. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarh!" The gas seemed to have had an effect on his voice; it was coarse and harsh.
Despite Rhak's warning, he brought his cannon up and fired it straight into one of the opaque windows. The bark of his cannon was rivalled by the volume of the black glass completely and instantaneously shattering, leaving the blinding morning light in its place. The cold air rushed straight into the now very well lit room as if trying to get warm, blowing away any trace of the gas.

Flank turned to face the computers. "I think we should be able to see what we're doing." he gravelled.

((It's still morning. /nitpick ))

Had they been in less dire straits, the view from atop Sapphire Point might have been considered somewhat breathtaking, especially with the sun still low in the sky, its rays shining directly through at them. For the first time since entering Sapphire Point they caught sight of the Sword of Damocles, a sleek black shape floating menacingly above the city.

Dagon winced and Kwa turned her head aside as the yellow-orange glow fell on the hub, fully illuminating the right ride of the room and casting long, sharp shadows across its breadth. As of yet, it revealed nothing new to the Rangers as their eyes adjusted to the glare.


As Dagon rushed forwards to join Flank, Kwa raised her voice over the wind howling through the hole left by the flak cannon: "Xol, status update!"

The timer on the main screen now read thirty seconds.

After recognizing the seven-digit code as being un-crackable, Xol ran to the only screen that was on, that being the one with the video feed of the foyer. He almost ignored it, but took a second look and squinted, his eye catching something.

Kwa's plea for an update was not returned.

((Delta, I kinda have no idea what to do at this point. You seem to have lead me to this terminal, so here you go, what now?))

"Xol!"

Before the selthem had time to make use of the open console — before he could even minimise the window with the surveillance feed or make a single keystroke — the monitor sparked and died. This was because a stiletto dagger, thirteen inches of woven titanium alloy painted a matte-black that would never betray a tell-tale glint, was now protruding from it. Xol, however, had little enough time to dwell on this, or the arm whose hand held the weapon now half-buried in the screen, as at that very moment another such limb — a wiry black blur of movement in the morning light — was gripping him by the chest and pulling him violently over the top of the left computer bank and into the shadows behind it.

These events transpired within the no more than two seconds, roughly in the space of time during which the group's eyes were still adjusting, and most of their attention was doubtless centred on Flank's antics at the far end of the hub. Certainly Dagon, with the sun in his eyes and the wind whipping raucously about his ears, missed this fleeting chain of events entirely, turning his head only at the sound of Kwa's startled exclamation.