Survie

12. That was how old I was when I first killed a person. Swift and quick, they always told me. I always saw my targets as food, but I never toyed with my food unlike my other peers. I enter silently, kill them with one precise strike, and leave. When I didn't meet my mark and missed, they would be in pain. I dislike watching them suffer. It takes too long and it's ugly to look at. I'd end them swiftly, one blade to the cranium. A coup de grâce, they called it. Years of this habit earned me a name: Mercy.

"1024, how do you explain your actions?" my mentor asked, pointing at a photo of a recently deceased target. "We do not allow people to reach a target before us. Especially a target this important. They are pivotal roles of the current government. If they go down in our hands, people will fear us. People will respect us. We will show the world that the Awareness is no longer what it is before. And then you let a hired assassin take your kill? Are you insane? Your life is spent training in the Awareness, and now you come back here, with a hired assassin taking your kill, and you are nowhere near the place of the target." He pointed at the picture angrily, nearly yelling.

I sighed, "Sir, it was a careless mistake, I had no idea it was trap," In fact, I didn't. It was too late when I figured out that hired gun tricked me and took the politician for himself. I tried to explain, but my mentor is not the type to listen.

"No excuses, this isn't the first time you screwed up an assassination.You either go through the 5 years of training and the additional year of being an apprentice, or you leave. You sever all your ties with us. You pack, you leave and not a single word about the Awareness. Am I clear?" He asked me.

"Crystal, sir." I answered, not a hint of emotion appearing on my face.

"Good." He said, calming down. "So, here are your choices. Training, or leaving?" He asked again.

I took a deep breath. I went through training once, and I have no desire to go through that hellhole of a course again. It's time I took up the mantle of a hired gun. "I'll leave. This isn't my place. Not anymore." I handed him the pendant the Awareness gave me when I completed my training, and I turned, walking back to my room to pack.  The yellow lights that illuminated the hall no longer felt warm as it once did, it felt like a sting, unlike the warm sensation it used to give me. The corridors of the compound no longer felt familiar, but I felt strange, like this place is no longer my home.

My armour lied there, next to the fireplace in my quarters, it's black surface reflecting the fire, the red palm painted in the shoulder of the armour representing the Awareness. I say down beside it and took out my knife, and started to scratch the paint until the palm came off. I packed all of my belongings into one single bag, and then I put on my armour, and left.

I woke up, realising that was 7 months ago. I sat up, the gash on my hip stinging a bit. I was still covered in dirt, my armour and weapons nowhere to be seen. Since my failed assassination attempt, they detained me in an underground cell, and this is already the third day I've been here. I looked at my surroundings, the damp cell had an unpleasant odour wafting through the air, the small dripping spot on the ceiling covered by a wet cloth, the broken mirror hanging loosely on the wall. I stood up, trying to reach the cloth on the ceiling. I jumped, my fingers barely grasping the cloth before I fell. I stood up again, this time jumping higher. I grabbed the cloth and yanked it down, water dripping on my face. I spat out the murky water, and reached for the mirror shards. The broken shards reflected me, the dirt in my blonde hair, the blood stains on my face, all hidden in the darkness.

The shard of mirror was about as long as my palm. I cleaned the cloth with the water they provided, and wrapped it around my hand and the shard. Footsteps. Footsteps are good. It means the prison guard is coming. I shrank back into the corner of the cell, gently touching the wound and wincing.

The sound of the door unlocking. "Hey you. Here's your meal.": He threw down a small box of food. "The boss wants you alive, so you better keep yourself alive in this hellhole." He chuckled, "shame. A beauty like you shouldn't be locked up like this." And then he turned, attempting to exit the cell.

I ran forward. And then I grabbed his throat. He struggled, grabbing his gun. But I was faster. I stabbed the broken shard into his throat, and he fell, gurgling blood. I took his gun, aimed it at his face, that face that was distorted by pain, and I fired. I took his baton and ran. I turned a corner, hearing a pair people talk.

"...And then the tuna bumped into the wall and-" One of them was attempting to say a joke as the other cut him off, "Stop. No more of your corny jokes." He sighed, "Fine. Your loss."

I peeked. Both of them had their backs against me.  Looks like it's my lucky day today. I ran forward and stabbed one of them in the back of their necks and shot the other in the head. A guard turned the corner, seeing me murder the two guards. He raised his gun, but I was faster. I plucked the shard from the guard's back and threw it towards the guard with his rifle raised. It plunged into his chest. He stumbled backwards, breathing heavily as he tried to take aim. I dashed towards him and punched his throat. He choked as I brought my pistol up to his face and fired. Red covered my hand. I dropped the blood covered pistol, picking up the shard and another pistol as I continued forward. After a few bloody fights I reached their armoury, and there it was. My beautiful armour, locked in a case. I took the armour, putting it on behind the locked door of the armoury. A glint in the corner of the room caught my eye, and I walked over, my navy blue armour encasing my body with its durable, Echosalt metal. I stepped closer, examining the dark blue briefcase. Black words were printed on the case, "NTSD-0155 Mobile Spec Ops Armour, Codename Chameleon" I took the case, and headed for the hangar. 

I heard the alarm. And then footsteps. I cloaked, and a small army of men marched past me. I ran after they walked past, not one of them noticing me. I uncloaked, and resumed walking for a while before seeing a squad of three men with their guns pointed at me. I dropped the case and cloaked, running behind them and unsheathed my plasma-edged katana, and uncloaked. I stabbed one of them and jabbed the second with a poison blade on my left wrist. They both yelped as the third one turned around. I pulled out a hidden blade from my right arm and threw it at him. He didn't even have time to scream as I dashed forward and stabbed him in the head, the sound of metal clashing against bone as I pulled out my blade. I sheathed my blade and retrieved my hidden knife, picking up the Chameleon armour before moving on.

I arrived at the hangar, boarding a small craft after I broke the neck of the pilot. The control seemed simple enough.  I closed the hatch and prepared to leave as a voice entered my headset.

"Storm Chaser, this is Nightshade HQ, you are unauthorised for a flight. I repeat, you are unauthorised to take the flight." The voice of an anxious male spoke.

I didn't reply. I sped up as the gate started to close. It was closing, closing fast. The ship I was in accelerated even more. I rushed through the gate a second before it could've crushed my ship. I flew upwards, breaking through the atmosphere of Aketi, and looked back as I sped away. The grey area took up a relatively small area amongst the green and red of Aketi. Even the power of a big corporation can't fight with nature. I flew past the planets of the Tricadis System, going back to the planet I now call home, Esteon.

I landed outside a relatively abandoned warehouse, and exited the craft, setting it on self destruct. I walked away as the Chromosite core detonated, the ship imploding into nothingness. I walked back to the outskirts of the city, stealing some clothes from a nearby farm, putting my armour and the chameleon armour into a bag. I walked and walked, until I could hitch a ride. 

"So, what brings a fine young lady like you to this part of the city?" The young man asked, wiping the soot from his face as he pulled his small truck over. 

"I got lost," I said, a well-practised innocent grin appearing on my face.

"And where might you live?" The young man asked, not at all surprised by my answer. 

I sighed, "in the city, just along 2nd Street."

The young man laughed. "I'm getting a package delivered to 3rd street, if you don't mind, I can give you a ride."

Another well practised sheepish smile appeared on my face. "Sure, if you don't mind the trouble." I put my bag beside me as I sat next to him. "The name's Grace, by the way." I extended my hand.

"They call me Winslett. Scotty Winslett." He said, shaking my hand with his sweaty, strong hand.

We talked on the way back to the city. He was talkative. And to be nice I responded, and I found out this happy-go-lucky delivery guy went through quite a tough life. Of course compared to mine it wasn't much, but he told me he was raised in the slums, and since he wasn't strong enough then he ran, ran fast. He told me about how he landed a job as a delivery boy after he ran for a whole day when he was escaping a gang and his boss saw. He was funny, and I could see he was trying to get me to warm up to him. But being who I am, I kept my responses short, and my smiles small. When we arrived at 2nd street, he dropped me off and I thanked him, waking back to my place-a small apartment in an old building. I walked up the stairs, picked up the key from the small compartment under the doormat, and entered my small apartment.

The small apartment I own is still as dim as always despite the sun shining outside. I turned on the lights and walked to my closet, pulling out a hidden numerical pad. I typed in the combination, and the hidden compartment slid out, revealing a whole layer of storage compartment. I carefully placed my armour and my weapons there and closed it. I suddenly felt felt something dripping on my arm. I touched my hair. It was sticky and partially covered in blood. I had to wonder how Scotty the delivery guy didn't look at me weird. I emerged from the bathroom half and hour later, my dirty blonde hair neatly braided into a fishtail braid, putting on my comfy red T-shirt and some shorts. I made myself a cup of hot chocolate and sat down on the couch. I put the Chameleon armour on the half broken table, and studied it. I saw one small keyhole on the bottom of the suitcase, and I started to search for the key. Surprisingly, it was chained to handle, and so I cut the chain and took the key and inserted it into the keyhole. The case sprang open, revealing its contents. Inside the case was a pair of gauntlets, a pair of boots, and a metal collar connected to a spine like appendage at the back. I changed back into something more combat appropriate in case traps were installed.

I put on the gauntlets, the metal boots and carefully put on the collar, picking up a small booklet at the bottom. The cover said "A how-to guide to the Chameleon Armour. Owned by Nightshade Corporations." On the cover was a man sporting the Nightshade standard combat uniform giving the viewers a thumbs up. I opened the booklet, finding detailed instructions of deploying the armour. After reading it, I confidently nodded, preparing to deploy the mobile armour. 

I pressed the button on the back of the collar, where the metal spine intersected the collar. Through the mirror, I could see the small light glow blue, and then I heard some wheezing coming from the components. Soon, liquid metal discharged from the components and covered my body. It slowly hardened into a sleek black shell with purple accents. The red HUD lit up, giving information on my surroundings and my weapons. I activated the camouflage circuit, my body fading into the background. The high-end equipment didn't disappoint me, and I tried out the ballistic knife, the poison dart and the sense-enhancing apparatus installed in the helmet, accidentally picking up a conversation down the street.

"Have you seen her? Messy hair, dirty clothes, probably wounded. Grey eyes, fierce attitude, hmmm?" A voice asked. It was filtered, like it came from a robot.

"No sir, can't say I have." I recognised this voice, it was Scotty. 

I crept out of the window, cloaked and ready to strike. I hid outside the ally, listening to the conversation and observing the situation. Scotty was cornered in the ally by four men in black uniform and a purple helmet.

"Are you sure? We saw you give her a ride back from the outskirts of the city. You know, in the truck you drive?" One of the men said as he unsheathed his knife.

"I'm... I'm not sure what you're talking about, sir." Scotty continued to deny as he tried to shove the men out of his way. "If that is all sir, may I leave now?"

"No, you may not." One of them said as they pushed him back, cornering him again. He drew his gun, "if you're not honest with me, I will murder you and no one will remember you."

Before Scotty could answer, I fired my ballistic knife at one of the men, piercing his abdomen. He screamed as the others turned around, guns raised. I slowly uncloaked as I dashed forwards. I fired my poison dart at the other but it bounced off the uniform. I scowled. The uniformed men ran forward and I kicked one of them in the face and jumped, doing a perfect somersault and landing behind them. I threw a knife at one of them and he went down wailing. I heard a click behind me and I spun around, finding one of them with a gun, holding Scotty at gunpoint. I froze.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll surrender and let us take you back to the cell, and we'll let him go." He sneered, pushing the gun against Scotty's temple.

I put the knife on the floor as one of the men came up behind me and took a small device shaped like a button. He stuck it to the armour's collar and it began to buzz. A few moments later I heard the circuits fry, and the liquid metal shell dissipated and slithered back into the gauntlets and the boots. I put my hands behind my back, reaching for the hidden blades on my shoulders. I took one and threw it at the man taking Scotty hostage. It hit his hand and he dropped the gun, and he stepped back and grunted as Scotty jumped away in shock. I elbowed the man behind me, kicking his shin and piling up my plasma-edged katana in the process. I plunged it into his chest as he fell. The last remaining man aimed his pistol and me and fired. I ducked, barely dodging the bullet. I heard a grunt as I threw my katana at him, the blade going right through his face. I turned around and took off the helmet of the paralysed soldier with the blade stuck in his hand and I stomped on his head with the metal boots of the armour. I heard a yelp and a satisfying sound of a skull shattering. And then I heard someone moaning in the corner. I turned, seeing Scotty lying on the ground, his stomach covered in blood.

"Heh.... Quite the display of skills there, eh?" He said, panting. "Never thought it... it would be you saving me."

I rushed over, trying to stop the blood flow. "Shhhh. You shouldn't be talking. I'll fix you, but I need to stop your bleeding first." For the first time I genuinely felt concerned for someone I met in the last 12 hours. 

He gave me a weak grin. "It's fine. I knew you were trouble when I saw you in the outskirts, blood and all." He licked his lips, licking the blood off. "I never thought... A girl would be so... Pretty even with dried blood stuck in her hair. Could....couldn't resist helping ya." He panted, struggling to breathe.

I silenced him. "Not a word. In gonna patch you up, don't you die on me." 

He smiled again, "I don't know who you really are Grace, but it was a pleasure meeting you, even if it means getting shot." He seemed calm, "I'm prepared to die. Don't worry,  it's... It's too late to patch me up. Just... Just do me favour and end me right now, I don't want to suffer."

I gritted my teeth. For the first time, Mercy couldn't do what she did best. For the first time, Mercy couldn't deliver the coup de grâce. "No, I am not letting it happen. Not to you."

He chuckled, "it's time. Beam me up. Take me away." He picked up the knife on the soldier's hand and give it to me.

I closed my eyes. It had to be done. The mercy kill. I took the blade, and plunged it into his temple. Right through his brain. No more suffering. His body slumped onto the ground.

I looked at his lifeless, bloody body. I put a flower on his body before realising that I had to dispose of all the bodies and not cause a scene. With pain, I wrapped up their bodies with a handy blanket nearby, along with the broken chameleon armour. I covered the blanket with some fuel and lit it up. It lit up the dark streets for a few minutes before being reduced to nothing but ashes. I left the ashes there, and crept back into my apartment, cleaning up myself.

They were on to me. They know I'm here and I have to run. I packed everything I'd need into a small bag and put on my old navy blue armour once again. I fastened my katana onto the waist of my armour, and crept out into the night, leaving not a trace that I ever lived there. The next day, neighbours reported a fire that burned everything in "my" apartment.

I found myself on a desert 5 months later, chewing on a piece of chocolate as I aimed down the sights of my sniper rifle, the corrosive rounds loaded and ready to fire. The target entered my sights, a low-profile Chieftain working with Black Skull.  I was hired by a man calling himself "Jones", and he told me that "it has to be done", and he paid me 50k to do the job. So I shrugged and accepted it. I swallowed the chocolate I was eating, and focused.

I fired, and the corrosive bullet whistled through the air and hit an invisible barrier, stopping in the air. The chieftain smiled. I knew something was wrong and started to disassemble my rifle as quietly as possible, and cloaked. I stood up and turned, finding my employer and a small army of men with their guns pointed at me at the entrance of the cave.

Jones clapped, "Bravo. But its too late for you to realise this now, yes? Grace, is it? I represent the British Government and you are under arrest for attempted murder and multiple counts of murder. If you do not cooperate, I can have you shot, right here." He ordered his men to disarm me, and cuff me. He smiled, "now, I would like to propose a deal. See, two days ago, the HMS Animosity was hijacked, and we would... like to use unorthodox means to take back our ship......"

A cold day

It was a cold day.

I pressed my body onwards against the cold, dry wind that scratched at my flaking skin as I held on tightly to my overcoat. I passed an exhaust vent as it gave a disappointed sigh of soot mixed with warm smoke. The brief warmth found acceptance amongst my chilled nerves, and the sudden burst of energy pushed me further towards the dark, slim, and angular monolith of a building that was my corporation. I looked up into the sky and saw the eerie green glow of the hexagonal logo beyond the thick layer of smog. As I neared the building’s wall, and it looked as if I was about to walk into it, an extremely concealed doorway slid open and when I stepped through, it took its original place and vanished without a trace.

I walked along the narrow hallway, which was lined with thin hexagonal monoliths that emitted the same eerie green light through the hexagonal vents at their top. More of the same green light raced to and fro on the cold, hard metal floor as I walked past. The AI receptionist gave me its usual warm greeting, and I walked into my personal lift. The centralised AI flickered into life in the form of a hologram, as the door slid shit with a slight hiss.

“Good morning sir. You have one scheduled meeting with the Chairman Konrad

of Nightshade Corporation at 11:30 to 1:30 in Conference Chamber Number One. Your skin’s levels of hydration are lower than normal, and so is your body temperature. Would you like some medication, sir?”

“No, thank you. It’s just the wind outside.”

“Outdoor wind speed is at 49 mph, and humidly is at 20%. Pollution levels are high as usual, and outdoor activities are strongly recommended against.”

“No shit.”

“Is there anything more I can help you with sir?”

“No, thank you” I said as I stepped out of the lift and into my office.

This conference with Chairman Konrad could only spell trouble, as the tensions between our respective corporations were at an all time high, I thought to myself as I trudged towards Conference Room Number One.

The concealed door slid open in a hiss, and there he was, slouching on the Executive’s chair, Chairman Konrad himself. His face bore his trademark smugness, and he took a sharp glance in my general direction.

“Chairman Hex.” He muttered, “Long time no see.”

“Long time no see indeed, Chairman Konrad.” I replied, “What is it that you want to discuss with me at such short notice?”

“Ah. Ever so dull and straight to the point, how very boring.”

“Alright. I’ll play your little game. Go on, what do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much really.” He said in a more serious tone. “It’s just that the tensions between our corporations have reached an alarming level since… the Incident.”

The very mention of the Incident sent chills down my spine as I recalled the events that occurred.

“Go on, what do you propose?”

Konrad leaned in towards me and said:

“I propose the merging of our two respective corporations.”

Something wasn’t right.

“Now, now, there is no need to be alarmed, you will get a fair share of the profits that our merged corporation reaps, and we will share the seat of Chairman. No tricks. Just a fair deal, but if one of us happens to… ever so unfortunately expire,

all the profits and holdings of the expired will be transferred to the other. “

While Konrad went through the minute details of the contract he had set up on his holotab, I saw a flicker in the air at the corner of my eye.

“Here. The paperwork has been all sorted out. Now, you just have to sign at the bottom here, and voilà, the legal side of the merging will be complete.”

“Chairman Konrad, are we alone in this room?”

“Yes, why?” He said in a well-faked tone of perplex.

A flicker of fear raced across his face, and all was clear.

An assassin cloaked with a middle-end invisibility field was standing behind me, biding his time until I finished signing Konrad’s contract, then kill me with a swift snap of my neck. Konrad will then have the documents that state HexCorp as a part of Nightshade Corporation, and solely bask within the profits reaped by the two corporations. A smart move on the chessboard of corporate conquest, but not smart enough.

“Because I don’t hate anything more than a crowd.”

I splashed my cup of boiling tea at the assassin’s face, and he gave a sharp shriek of pain. I grabbed his head and smashed it down onto the metal table, leaving a visor-shaped dent. Red started to saturate through the assassin’s spandex suit, and a head shaped object started to form. Chairman Konrad stood up and started to back away from me and towards the windows. I elbowed the assassin’s neck, breaking it and his cloaking device, revealing a figure clad in Black Skull amour.

One down, one to go.

Click.

I looked up and saw Konrad pointing a hand cannon directly at my face.

“Goodnight, Hex.” He said with a sneer as he pulled the trigger.

I held up the dead body of the assassin in front of me, and I felt the heavy thud of the bullet hitting his chest. Konrad fired more rounds at me as I slowly advanced, waiting for my chance to strike.

Click. Click. Click.

“Goddammit.” I heard Konrad mutter.

My retractable ice shard launcher clicked into place in my hand as I slowly walked towards the trembling form of Konrad, who was trying frantically to reload his hand cannon. I pointed the cold, hard barrel of the launcher directly at his heart, and pulled the trigger.

A flow of triple-filtered water flowed into the sub zero chamber of the launcher, instantly forming into an ultrathin, ultradurable shard of ice bearing the shape of a refined needle. A concentrated burst of hypercompressed supercooled nitrogen pushed the shard at 900 miles per hour down the frictionless barrel of the launcher, through the shivering pectoral muscles of Chairman Konrad Kruse, and the pericardium, myocardium and endocardium of his heart. His still beating heart continuously pushed blood through the microscopic hole through itself, where it slowly clotted within his pericardium, obstructing the movement of his cardiac muscles, and cutting off the flow of dissolved oxygen to the rest of his asphyxiating body.

“How very unfortunate.” I say with a sense of irony, towards Konrad’s fear choked face, which steadily took on a dark shade of purple. “How very unfortunate.”

I stand there admiring my handiwork – a traceless murder which would be mistaken as a heart attack, as there was no bullet wound or bullet to be found within his corpse due to the miniscule size of the wound and the ice shard either fully passing through his body or melting down within it.

I suddenly feel a cold stream of wind flow through the hole punctured through the window by the ice shard. My nerves started to retract at the sudden burst of coldness, and my skin started to flake at the continuous scratching of the wind once more.

It was a cold day.

Hostile Takeover

The light outside stung my eyes. Three weeks in solitary confinement without light teaches you something; three weeks in solitary confinement without light also gives you time to think. An hour before I got locked up, a government agent came, said he had business with me, wanted me to get back into my old business. He also told me that my sentence would be shortened if I accepted his offer. I punched him in the face, after refusing; my killing days were over. After that I was shot in the neck with a tranquilizer dart, and the last thing I remember before waking up chained in a dark room was the warm sunlight on my face.

I sat down. The government official sitting in front of me looked at me with his discontent eyes, apparently looking self conscious about the bandage on his nose. He took out a file, containing some documents, a dossier and some pictures of a futuristic looking spacecraft.

Jones, his name was, spoke with his monotone, boring voice, "I'm giving you one last shot at this, so if you want to pass this chance of leaving this prison alive, feel free to spend your last 50 days waiting for your execution. Now, this ship," He handed me the picture, "is the HMS Animosity. Two weeks ago, a group of bandits took over the ship, and we want you to take it back. Now, we understand that you have.... Bad blood with these bandits, so I wouldn't expect you to refuse my offer."

He gave me another document. This one had a blurry picture of a man on it and some fancy paragraphs. I recognized him as the leader of the local splinter group of The Frostbite, the biggest bandit group across the few planets we call a galaxy.

"I'll take it," I said. "on one condition." Jones raised his eyebrow. "I want my old gear back." Jones narrowed his eyes, considering.

A few minutes later, he turned to me and said, "Alright. The car's waiting outside. Go get changed, I'll wait outside."

A few minutes later, I walked out of the prison gates. I was back in my comfy worn jeans, leather jacket and my torn black shirt. I boarded the car, sitting behind Agent Jones as he pulled out a file from his seemingly bottomless suitcase.

"Here are the floor plans of the HMS Animosity. Try to memorize all the hidden passages and not get lost. Now, your mission, is to eliminate the splinter group, bring the leader back alive if you can, and retake the ship's control. Simple enough?" He handed me the floor plans.

"Sure. As long as I don't get one of your Imperial Gears and crap, I'll be fine." I took the file.

"Don't worry. Your old equipments are locked inside our armory. No one could figure out how to use your stuff during your 4 month absence." He gave me a annoyed look, trying to vent his dissatisfaction.

"4 months? I didn't realize I was gone for that long," I said, smirking a little, "and to think I was about to go home with some girl at the bar that night," I laughed a little. Jones looked at me with his emotionless eyes, not even showing the smallest hint of being capable to feel humor. "Or not." I said, sinking into the oddly comfortable leather seat, and took a little nap.

When I came to, Jones was next to me. "Wake up, we're here." I sat up, exiting the car while wiping the saliva off of my face. I looked at the seat, "sorry about your seat." I apologized as I walked into the base with Jones.

"Here are your weapons and your armaments . Briefing will start when you're ready." Jones said as he walked away.

I took a long look at my armor. Months of storage made its white armor plates lose its shine. The sight of my carbon steel knife resting in its sheath made my smile as I began cleaning my armor and readjusting it. After I finished checking and configuring my weaponry, I walked outside, helmet in hand. My armor gleamed under the bright light as I walked towards the briefing room as instructed.

"Ah. How nice of you to join us." Jones said as he saw me enter.

"Us? Is there some-" I asked before noticing the girl sitting in the corner, cleaning her blade. 

She looked at me with her piercing grey eyes, "I've been expecting you."

I tilted my head and asked, "Who is she?" 

"She's going to accompany you on your mission. Found her out in the deserts of the Midlands," Jones said, gesturing towards her.

She tied her gleaming golden hair into a pony tail and turned to me with an annoyed look, "Made me a deal I couldn't refuse," she stood up, "Pleased to meet you." She held out her hand.

I shook it, "Pleasure's all mine. Got a name to go with that pretty face?"

She looked like she was about answer before Jones cut in, "You can get to know each other later. Now, shall we start the briefing?" Without waiting for our answer, he pointed at the screen, "This, is the map of the HMS Animosity, and the two of you will enter," he pointed at one of the exhaust vents, "from here." He switched the slide, showing the rules of engagement, "We have the element of surprise, use that to your advantage. Leave no bandit alive, save for the leader, that is. We'll need him for interrogation."

Both of us nodded. "You're shipping off in ten," Jones said as he walked out of the room, "be prepared."

Once he walked out of the room, the girl turned to me, "Don't have a name. Closest thing I ever got to a name was my code. I was trained by the Awareness since I was a baby. The only word I remember answering to was my code, 1024. You?"

I shrugged, "They all call me Riess. If you want history to remember you, I suggest you give yourself a name. History would rather remember the duo who saved the Animosity as someone with names, not 1024 and Riess."

"I'll think about it." She looked at her left hand, the word "Grace" was carved on her gauntlet. "I read a lot before I left the Order. Came across an age-old term Coup de grâce, and well, since I rarely let my targets suffer, they called me Mercy. And since grâce means mercy, I've been calling myself Grace since I left."

I once again extended my hand, and did my best smile, "Nice to meet you, Grace."

She smiled and shook my hand, "nice to meet you too, Riess."

Took us a few hours just to get to the exhaust vent, and god knows how long we have to spend beating people up. I looked at my reflection on the window of the space pod, fixing my hair as I put on my helmet. Blue lights lit up the visor of my helmet and I cracked my knuckles, bracing myself for the oncoming slaughter. Grace put on her helmet, encasing her in an armor of deep navy blue. The black slit that was her visor glinted with light. She sheathed her blade and sat down, preparing herself.

Why

We climbed down the exhaust vent and entered the maintenance room, Grace tapped a few buttons on her wrist brace and disappeared from view. Camouflage at its best. We crept out of the room, entering the view of a small squad of guards.

The one in front yelled as he held his rifle up. The other members of the squad lifted their weapons as well and aimed for me. I reached for my two submachine guns and did a somersault as they fired, narrowly dodging the bullets. I landed in a crouch, firing my twin SMGs. The three guards in front shrieked as immeasurable amounts of lead penetrated their body, and they fell, blood everywhere. The surviving three crept a corner as I saw a familiar flash of blue. Another grunt was heard as a guard fell to the ground, his neck slit. Grace appeared behind him and the two remaining guards aimed at her. She threw a knife at one and dashed for the other, stabbing the second guard in the chest as the first guard fell dead with a knife embedded in his chest.

I gave her a thumbs up as I heard a faint chuckle from her. we advanced through the ship, killing the guards and bandits in our way. It wasn't an easy fight, but we were skilled enough to take on the swarms of enemies. It seemed like the whole splinter group came together to hijack the ship. Resistance increased as we ventured our way to the control room, progressing from grunts to heavier armored Tanks.

As we entered a long corridor, Grace disappeared once again as enemies began to cover the corridor. I ran into position, punching a grunt and breaking his skull as I jammed my pistol into another grunts throat and firing. Blood splatted on my armor, ruining its white surface with a bright red. I loaded my pistol with armor penetrating bullets as I ducked for cover. Two heavily armored Tanks appeared at the end of the hallway, took a deep breath as I stood up and turned around, firing three shots at one of them. He grunted and took a few steps back, two of the bullets missed and hit a few grunts behind him, as the remaining bullet punctured his stomach. He screamed as a silver sword went through his chest. The blade withdrew as Grace spun around, facing him. She took out a pistol and shot the Tank in the head, killing him. As she continued to combat the grunts I realized the second Tank was missing. I realized that a second to late as I felt a huge hand press on my shoulder and spun me around. The Tank in front me wagged his finger, suggesting that I shouldn't have angered him. He pushed me to the ground as he took a knife out and tried to stab me. I held the serrated blade away from my face with my left hand as he pressed closer. I pointed my right hand at his temple as an armor plate on my wrist shifted back, revealing a small shotgun. His head turned and gasped as I smiled, firing the shotgun point blank.

His whole dead body jerked sideways as I stood up, wiping the blood on my helmet. I reloaded my shotgun, sheathed my pistol and took out a railgun as Grace finished off the rest of the grunts.

Kicking the door open, we found ourselves facing a horde of grunts with a line if hostages in front of them. The leader stood at the back, both hands holding a rifle. 

The leader smiled at us, "welcome, to your funeral!" He gestured towards us and the bandits slowly advanced with the hostages in front. They had a variety o weapons in their hands, all aimed at us behind the terrified hostages.

Grace disappeared again, and I heard a crash. She appeared behind the lines and stabbed two bandits from the back, taking their guns and attracting the attention of the swarm of bandits. I aimed my railgun at the nearest band of bandits, and fired. The electromagnetic accelerated projectile whistled through the air, killing the bandits, the projectile leaving a bright trail of light behind. Grace fought through the bandits, attempting to reach the hostages. I ran forward, ramming into the bandits blocking my way. I hoisted a hostage on my left shoulder as I broke the rib cage of a bandit with my fists. I aimed my railgun at another bunch of bandits, making my way to the gang leader as I killed the rest of the bandits. Soon only the leader was left, he faced us with an arrogant smile. He lifted his rifles and prepared to fire-

-and then he was shot in the back. He fell forwards, blood gushing out of the wound. A man in a suit faced us, his gun pointed at us.

He grinned, "I'm sorry, but I don't think he's the boss around here."

I sheathed my gun, "Sir, I'm glad you intervened, but we have to secure-" I stopped mid-sentence as I felt a sharp pain in my right shoulder. I turned around, Grace lied on the floor, unconscious. A burly man in military uniform stood there, a sledgehammer and a pistol in hand. I grit my teeth, dropping the railgun I had in hand.

The man's smile faded, "No, I mean he really wasn't the boss, I am." He kicked the dead man on the floor. 

"Why?" I asked. 

"Well," he lowered his gun, "this ship is a property of the English Military, and it is armed to the teeth," he waved his gun around, "just look at all this, a little modification and it could be ours," he smiled, "the private warship of The Frostbite." 

I staggered, "is that all? A splinter group like yours won't use the whole group just for a ship." 

The man brushed back his hair and clapped his hands, "Bravo, Sherlock Holmes, bravo. Of course that wasn't all.

The government controlling England isn't the government we used to know. The Black Skull took over the whole English government a few months ago, and we had to even the odds. Judging by your affiliations with that Awareness girl over there, you're not working with the rebels anymore, yeah?" 

I nodded, "The government captured us and gave us a deal; work for them or get executed." 

The man shook his head, "That's the Black Skull for ya; let me guess, the man who approached you calls himself Jones, and is completely emotionless?"

I stepped back an asked, "how did you know?"

He sighed, "His name is K. H. Lamm, one of the higher ups in The Skull responsible for recruiting skilled individuals. Now he's in charge of a government agency, he can force you people to work for them. I met him once, when I was still in The Frostbite."

I tilted my head, confused, "was? I thought you were still working for them."

The man bit his lip and said, "not anymore. I'm one of the rebels now. The name's Rick if you're interested." 

The door behind us exploded as I prepared to continue to question him. A team of men in brown armor and a black skull insignia on their shoulder rushed in, leaded by Lamm.

"Hello, Richard," Lamm said, his pistol pointed him. "Still thinking about that offer?"

Richard spat on the ground, "I'd rather die than to join you, Baron," he aimed at Lamm as well. "I am done working for you, or any other gang."

Lamm smiled, "Agent, step back, I'll handle this." Showing emotion for the first time, "this is quite personal; I don't want you to be involved."

I sided with Rick, pointing my rifle at the men, "No, I am done working for you, Lamm. Lets just fight this out, no government interference." 

Lamm chuckled, "very well." He turned to me, his gun still aimed at Rick. "If both of you want to fight, then we shall fight." He shot Rick in the arm and his chest, and he fell backwards, blood appearing on his suit.

Rick turned to me, his mouth filled with blood, "Ge... get to the... Esc.. Escape pod..." He pointed at a door towards our right before closing his eyes for one last time.

I checked my right arm. The bullet of the pistol almost penetrated the armor, and I could feel the bruise under my armor. The numbness from the bullet was fading, and I could feel my arm again. I took out both my rifles before charging, the machine gun mounted on my shoulder firing as I charged. The armored thugs fired at me with their rifles, the bullets bouncing off my armor. I slowly advanced as the firing squad was eliminated. Soon, there was only Lamm left. I fired at him, only to have the bullet go through him as he shimmered. 

His image disappeared as I felt my right shoulder bein pierced by a blade. I turned around, seeing nobody but Lamm in front of me, his face twisted into a wicked smile.

"I win," he said, pointing a gun at my face. "Armor piercing bullets. You won't even see them coming." I closed my eyes, accepting my death as I heard the sound of a gun firing. And then I heard a grunt, and something hitting the ground.

I opened my eyes, seeing Lamm on the ground, a pool of blood on his back. I saw Grace lying on the ground, a rifle in her hand. She stood up, shaking a little as she did so.

"We should leave, the ships going to blow," she said walking towards the escape pods. "Lamm activated the self destruct program, the ships going to destruct in a few minutes."

As we got inside the escape pod, a voice announced, "Self destruction in 5, 4, 3..." 

The pod launched into space as the ship exploded, debris flying everywhere. A piece of the hull hurled towards us and hit our pod, jerking it sideways as it plummeted towards a planet covered in gray metal.

"Engines destroyed, crash landing imminent," the voice calmly announced as the sirens blared inside our pod.

The pod caught fire as it pierced through the atmosphere of the gray planet. It plummeted towards the grounds I braed myself, holding onto the top of the pod while Grace did everything she could to minimize the impact. And then we crashed.

I emerged from the wreckage after what felt like an eternity, and Grace's body is nowhere to be found. I brushed the dust and dirt off my armor as I plucked a flower of sorts nearby and put it on top of the wreckage before walking away.

It was already dawn when I saw the compound. The gleaming fortress stood amongst the wreckage of a city, the gates guarded by two humanoid figures.

I approached the fortress, staring at the two humanoid robots in front of the gate. I attempted to ask them where I am before the two of them forced me against the wall and brought me inside the fortress, my armor doing nothing since the systems were down. One of them took my railgun and the other one took off my helmet as I forced into one knee in front of a throne made of refined, gleaming metal. A person sat on it, his face concealed by a visor with a hexagonal hive pattern. He stood up and looked at me behind those visors and spoke, with his cold, yet somehow enthusiastic tone.

"Hello, everyone calls me Hex. I used to be the well... Leader of the Black Skull. Now, I'm here, the Overlord and Leader of the Iron Legion. And I seek revenge on those who overthrew me, do you know any of them?"

Elsewhere, a piece of the escape pod was kicked aside, and a figure emerged beneath it. It took a look at the flower beside it, and took off its helmet. Grace breathed in the relatively fresh air before scowling. "Stop thinking I'm dead, bastard."

Hello World

Hello everyone.

This blog is dedicated to writing a series of stories, spanning short stories into a complete, intersecting series. It is a collaborative work by my and a friend of mine, Hex. We'll be posting more stuff in the future.

Check out my main writing blog here: http://writemadness.blogspot.com
And check out Hex's here: http://hexagonalhegemony.blogspot.com.au/

Veritas

veritas[ wey-ri-tahs; English ver-i-tas, -tahs ]

noun [Latin.]

-Truth

Magna est veritas, et praevalebit (Latin; Truth is great and will prevail)

"High Paladin! The Mass is about to start. This way, please."

Aequitus walked over to the priest, putting on his helmet and flipping the hood on his cloak on. He secured the energy blade sheathed on his waist as he followed the priest.

Life had never been quite easy on him. Aequitas lived in the slums when he was a young boy, and after a paladin saved him from a gang of robbers, he decided that he would want to be just like the man who saved him, kind and just; living by a strict code. He entered the church when he was twelve, and trained for the position of a paladin, working his way up to the position of High Paladin, the highest rank amongst them. Being the youngest person to ever bear the rank of High Paladin, he was praised and was promised glory when the time comes, but until now, it was all just sentry duty and training.

He stood idly in front of all the other paladins, his white armour shining in the sunlight, the golden accents and rims giving off a faint glow of gold. His white cloak seemed to shimmer under the sunlight as he stood in silence whilst the priest prayed. After the people left, he put his weapons in his quarters, and went for a stroll along the town amongst the many towns and villages and kingdoms on the planet they call Esteon. 

He casually walked down a street, his slim yet muscular figure hidden by his cloak. He bought a fruit on the way, munching on it as he walked. The brick houses and small markets around him were noisy as usual, the unrelenting sun in the summer shone down on him and the town, beads of sweat dripping down everyone's face. He enjoyed walks like this when he was off the job, it gives him a sense of serene despite the hectic, busy environment. The birds were chirping, the people were talking, the trees rustled, it almost sounded like a symphony made by nature, and it seemed like nothing could break that harmony. And yet, something did.

"Oi! If ye refuse to cooperate I'll haul ye back to the Church and have ye punished as a heathen!" A gruff voice said. Three armed men surrounded a defenceless old man, people rushing past them, no one wanting to meet their gaze.

He took a closer look. The three men were all dressed in white and golden armour. They were paladins of the church.

"I... I'm sorry, but it's all I got! I'm completely honest!" The old man yelled with his hoarse voice, holding out a hand with a few gold coins on the palm.

"This? All ye got? That's not enough, old man. Ye know the rules. Twenty gold coins or forty silver every month!" The gruff voice said again.

"I'm sorry! Give.. give me a few more days, I'll get it to you, I promise! I ain't no liar, sir!" The old man begged, kneeling in front of the three paladins.

Aequitus walked in front of the old man, pointing his finger at one of the paladins, "You. What kind of Paladin are you? Bullying a defenceless old man." He took off his hood, revealing his angular face, his messy black hair, and his grey eyes, looking right into the paladin's eyes.

"And ye are? Get out of the way before ye get hurt, lad. It ain't yer business." The paladin said, drawing his sword and pointing at Aequitus.

Aequitus grabbed his arm, elbowing the paladin in the face as he took the sword and impaled it on the wall. He took off the paladin's helmet and slammed his head onto the wall. The paladin grunted and fell, fainting. Aequitus took the sword on the wall and hacked at one of the two remaining paladins. He blocked the incoming attack as Aequitus let go of the sword, ducking and taking the paladin's shield. He slammed the shield against the paladin, and picked up one of the fallen paladin's helmet, throwing it at the last standing paladin. He blocked the helmet with his shield but it was too late; Aequitus was already right in front of him. He bashed his shield against Aequitus, but he dodged and slammed his shield against the paladin's stomach. The paladin buckled as Aequitus bashed the paladin on the spine with his shield.

He held one of the conscious paladin against the wall, a sword to his throat, "Who put you up to this?" He sneered, the blade sticking closer to the paladin's neck.

"The....The Priest! Priest Leaston had us do this! I swear I was just following orders! Rules are rules! Orders from the Priests are to be followed!" The Paladin said, his eyes shut.

"Yes, rules are rules. But, an unspoken rule has been broken. The one that all paladins are taught to follow; the rule that tells us in our guts that we are peacekeepers. We do not harm unless we are harmed." Aequitus punched the paladin in the face.

"Wh... Who are you?" The paladin asked, confused.

Aequitus took out the necklace always present on him, the one with the bronze celtic cross. "My name is Aequitus, High Paladin of The Church." He then showed him the insignia of the High Paladin, tattooed on his collarbone.

"Sir, I'm...I'm incredibly sorry. I... I didn't know..." His voice trailed off.

Aequitus sighed, letting go of the paladin. He walked away, throwing the fruit he was eating into a waste basket nearby, before putting on his hood.

He returned to his room in the quarters of the Paladins, donning his armour and made sure his weapons were usable, and he put on the cloak. He walked towards Priest Leaston's room, but was interrupted as a scream of agony came from the entrance of the basement. He rushed over, kicking the door open and quickly walked down the stairs. But even though he had prepared himself to face the corrupt Church, he could not believe what he heard next.

"I'm.... I'm sorry, Priest Leaston, I'll...I'll pay the protection racket, just give me one more week, I beg of you!" The middle aged man said.

Priest Leaston was surrounded by a circle of Paladins, the middle aged man lied on the floor, blood gushing out of the gashes on his bare back. "I'm sorry, Lareld, but your time... is up." He took an axe from the rack next to him.

"Priest Leaston, excuse me?" Aequitus coughed, flipping off his hood, revealing the gleaming siver helmet with the pitch black visor, wings painted on the side of the helm.  "What is this? Are you forcing the people of this town to pay you for protection?"

"...No, of course not, High Paladin. This man, is a heathen, a sinner. We believe that he should be punished." Leaston's left eye twitched.

"Please, sir, I have done nothing wrong! I am merely a victim of the wicked man you call High Priest." The man looked at Aequitus, pleading as he did so.

"Is this true?" Aequitus asked, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. "Does this man speak the truth, Priest Leaston?"

"Do not listen to him, High Paladin! He is a sinner, and a liar." Leaston shouted, a desperate look on his face. "He is not to be trusted!" He pointed at the old man, trying to reinforce his point.

Aequitus drew his sword. "Somehow, I do not believe you." He assumed an offensive stance, "I am no longer your High Paladin if this is what you do."

Leaston's face twisted into a wicked grin, "did you really think I'll let you get away with this? You might be the High Paladin, but we outnumber you!" He laughed, and snarled, "You are not leaving here alive." He pointed at him, "Kill him."

The paladins drew their swords, advancing towards Aequitus, preparing to attack. Aequitus breathed heavily, ready to attack.

Priest Leaston clapped his hand, and told the paladins to stop. "I applaud your courage. But, Your armor is regulated by that collar. And without your armor, you are nothing. And now, observe the power of the High Priest, Acusael." He chuckled, and began chanting an incantation.

Aequitus buckled, and felt the armor rejecting him. his head was clouded by thoughts; thoughts that were angry, thoughts that didn't belong to him. The paladins rushed forward and cuffed him to the pillars of the basement. Priest Leaston walked forward, and took Aequitus' sword. He admired the beautiful hilt and the glowing blade before plunging it into him. And then Aequitus remembered looking down and seeing his blade piercing his stomach and blacking out.

Aequitus woke up, surrounded by white. He stood up, finding himself among countless white pillars, a glowing figure standing in front of him. He walked forward, and the figure turned around, facing him. The figure was a complete replica of his armor, albeit with a glowing white halo on top of its head. He walked closer, and saw the figure's white glow flaring even brighter with every step he took.

"Who... who are you?" He asked, trying to incite a reaction form the figure.

"Me? My my, aren't you ignorant. I'm your armor, stupid." The figure answered, the glow fading a bit.

"But... armors don't talk." Aequitus said, cocking his head in confusion.

"Of course they don't. But they aren't me. I'm... I'm special." The figure nodded, trying to reassure itself that it's special. "My  official name, is Acusael, The Empty God. Your people found my... dormant body twenty years ago. I woke up, but the lack of energy kept me down, especially since all my previous 'owners' abuse me too much. Geez, can you believe the scratches they got on me? Unbearable. But you, you're special. Your blood is special. They have... a special origin. That DNA strain of yours is capable of wielding me at my full potential."

Aequitus walked closer, "Then let me. Bring me back. Bring me back if you're the god you say you are. Let me fight them." He wanted to go back, back to the basement, and finish what he started.

"Then tell me. Tell me why you want that power, tell me why you want to live." He chuckled, the glow fading completely, leaving only the broken halo floating on his head.

"Because what they are doing isn't right." Aequitus said, "That kind of business has no place in the Church, no place in the society that we live in. It goes against the teachings of the Church, it goes against every single thing about moral I know. I want to live to uphold the law, to protect all innocent people." His voice grew firm. "So let me fight them. Let me fight the corruption."

The armor chuckled, and nodded. And then Aequitus found himself lying on the ground, the sword in his hand.

He stood up, and found nothing but the shining armor on his stomach. No wound was to be seen. He felt a surge of heat building in him, and then a burst of energy was released. Everything around him warped due to the heat. His whole armor was glowing with divine gold light. His sword grew to the size of a claymore. He splayed his left hand, the intricate golden cross on his left gauntlet let out a soft shifting noise, emitting a shield of light. He knew about the light shield, but this time it seemed more focused, like a solid shield, taking the shape of an ancient Celtic shield.

Priest Leaston gasped. "How... what?" A few Paladins fell over.

Aequitus spoke, his voice a perfect blend of both him and the armor, "Stop it right there. Let go of him. And atone for your sins." He walked forward, lifting the claymore with one hand with ease, pointing it at the paladins.

They charged, and Aequitus stood there, idle. One of them hacked at Aequitus, he dodged the strike and pierced him with his sword. He turned and elbowed the second paladin and slashed, splitting him into two. He ran at the third one, ramming him with his shield, sending him backwards, a clear crack coming from his skull as it contacted the solid wall behind him. The other two paladins trembled. He walked forwards and put a blade to their throat.

"I do not attack the defenseless. Leave, and repent."Aequitus said, his voice firm and emotionless. The paladins scramble to their feet and ran for the door, dropping their weapons.

Leaston picked up one of the long swords, still chanting the same incantation, his voice trembling. He charged, but his untrained strike was easily countered and he fell to the ground.

"It has no use anymore, Priest. The worthy has appeared. The collar is broken." He said, his sword pressed against Leaston's throat.

"I'm sorry. I.. I really am. Just... Let me go. Please." The priest begged, tears in his eyes, "I'll repent! I will! Just, just let me go..."

"Your mouth is full of lies, Leaston. You have been the mastermind of this corrupt branch of the Covenant of the Frost since the start. Your hands has more blood than all of those paladins combined. You do not have the right to live." Aequitus said coldly, swinging his sword. The Priest's head fell to the ground, not a drop of blood spilled.

 He turned to the old man, and said, "Leave, go ahead. The Church is no longer under the influence of corrupt priests." He walked away, the glow fading.

"But Sir, where will you go? You... you said you're not their Paladin anymore." The old man said, his voice trembling.

Aequitus turned around, speaking with his voice once again, "I'll go to wherever the law needs to he upheld; wherever order is needed; wherever evil is at."

And with that, he walked out of the basement, out of the church, disappearing among the crowd.