Vicarious

[Zerstorendar]

While Syukata and Indrick fought and the latter continued to hold an upper hand that he could not consolidate, Fettel took a moment to consider the complete failure that was his mission. His official objectives, given by the Blitzmordlich himself, were essentially to give Indrick a ‘field test’, and return him unharmed. Even with his extensive preparation, the Ravager had failed to keep control of a foe who could take such advantage of that fact he was wanted alive.

It was disturbing to think that, without the Xenonians, Indrick would have been nullified quite likely at the cost of Fettel’s own life. Death was not an important thing to a Ravager so much as the reason for their death. To die destroying a group of regicidal murderers as the Cult of Clare was a good death, but to die in the process of capturing a Blitzmord toy whose usefulness was not fully understood was less satisfying. Fettel wouldn’t be in the Zanekrieger if death was a barrier to duty, but it still irked.

Now, despite his efforts, it was the Xenonians that would finally capture Indrick. The rogue Spectre’s field test was a dismal failure, and Fettel was beginning to suspect that the Blitzmordlich had expected exactly that. The Powersuit AI, Arg was at a loss to explain the impossibility of their original objective under the current circumstances when the Blitzmordlich would most certainly have anticipated any and all events. The logic systems of a Combat AI did not extend to conspiracies unless such patterns of thought were allowed by the integrated Zerstorendarian, and that was not a consideration Fettel would lend any credence to. As such, that particular theory was left unexplored in favour of a situational evaluation.

Apparently, the Spectres had already finished up with the Airavunian Special Forces unit who broke into the facility, and were on their way back. They would arrive in moments. Of more interest to Fettel, however, was the status of his beleaguered soldiers: of the fifty he had going in, thirty were alive and two seriously injured.

As the Spectres arrived in the room to see Indrick and Syukata brawling hand-to-hand, quite literally, Fettel decided the Blitzmordlich owed HIM an explanation. The whole mission was fucked from the start, and it should have been handled by his own agents. The Lich had a few brief words for the Spectres, one of which was holding the severed arm he had left on the ground:
“You two handle this, I’m going to see to my men. And thanks for getting my arm, just chuck it anywhere.�

Lich Dirk Fettel left the fight behind him, no longer concerned with anything but the well being of his Ravagers. As he lumbered off toward the firefight raging on the lower levels, Indrick momentarily extricated himself from the combat and in the blink of an eye blocked Fettel’s exit. Activating his remaining energy blade and taking an offensive stance as Syukata intercepted and the Spectres trained their weapons, Indrick suddenly powered-down his blades.

“I surrender.� he said while raising his hands slowly above his head.

“You fu-wha-…Power down your armour.�, Fettel demanded. To his chagrin, Indrick complied as the power-readings coming from the Powersuit died completely. Suddenly, the ex-Spectre’s strength, speed and resilience had reduced dramatically, and comparatively he was no longer a threat.

Fettel kicked Indrick in the chest with his booted foot, the ex-Spectre offering no resistance as he was hurled several metres and landed with a heavy thud. It was almost certain that some tissue damage was caused by the strike, and Fettel took four heavy steps forward to stand over their suddenly defenceless foe. He picked him up, and pinned him against a wall:

“What brought on this sudden cowardice?�

For the first time in while, Indrick grinned and raised his hands helplessly as he answered:

“Haven’t you guessed? I’m just plain old crazy.�

Unsatisfied, Fettel threw him to the two Spectres, who placed ludicrously overcharged neural cuffs, as well as regular handcuffs, on the captured Indrick. The traitor subsided into silence and allowed the Spectres to handle him without resistance. He kept smiling.

Extremely put off but relieved a serious complication was out of the way, Fettel spoke tersely to the group with the full intention of moving to help his Ravagers as soon as he finished:

“The Cult of Clare is busted up, and we can come back to this planet and glass the fucking thing. This Tereza-damned mission is over, we’re getting the fuck out of here. If you want to help-“ a look from the older Syukata stopped him. Apparently, she had a better idea. Well it better be fast.

[center]+++++[/center]

Elsewhere on Airavuni, a man stood in the midst of a rather spartan room. His form was formidable, though all an observer would see in the dark was a powerfully-built, straight-backed man whose features were hidden by a concealing cloak and hood. A more trained observer may notice that the man was wearing some sort of low-profile powered armour, technology of an extremely high level and value. In actuality, it was very similar to the armour worn by the Zerstorendarian Kaiserlich at all times, and like the Kaiserlich, this man always wore his armour, as could be attested by the ruined corpse on the floor.

The Blitzmordlich had executed his purge of the Airavunian leadership with very little concern in regards to the well-being of his sleeper agents. They were an expendable resource and only semi-effective. Against a killer like the man in the room, the sleeper agent that came after him stood no chance.

A glowing data-screen mounted into the wall was the focus of the man’s attention. The main focus of the screen was a real-time overview of the PDF attack on the Cult’s facility. The facility was half ruined by now and the defending Ravagers, soldiers with which the man was very familiar with, were losing ground as the battle progressed further into the massive structure itself. The Zerstorendarians would not hold them for long.

Ugh, ‘Zerstorendarians’. It was distinctly uncomfortable for the man to use that word, a word he loved, to refer to his enemies.

Then again, they were not necessarily his enemies. As he always said, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my trump card’.

Speaking of trump cards, Operative Indrick had followed orders. The Blitzmordlich’s brilliance was becoming more evident with every minor twist and turn of the Scheme. From covering the suspicious association by sending assassins after himself to turning Indrick into a completely unwitting zombie, the Zerstorendarian Blitzmordlich was performing perfectly. Perhaps most impressive is that he had successfully duped the Zanekriegerlich, the two being personal friends and Klaitus being an astute individual. However, it wasn’t in the Zanekriergerlich’s nature to be suspicious, and Sindri had played him with relative ease.

The man in the room was actually watching seemingly less-significant area of the data-screen: the combat reports from Indrick’s very-powerful combat and utility AI. There were three people in the universe receiving exactly the same data, and two of them were on Zerstorendar. By the looks of things, Indrick had surrendered and the Xenonians were detailing an escape plan somewhat more effective than Lich Fettel’s “Run and gun� strategy. Those Xenonians really had some fancy technology.

With all the data gathered they could possible need, Indrick’s mission was a success and he would now have to be recovered, if possible. He was almost indispensable. The Scheme proceeded to Phase Two, then.

The man rattled the objectives of Phase Two off in his head: Annihilate the remaining hidden elements of the Cult of Clare (hidden by this very man), their usefulness as a front having been outlived. Kill Aimee the Tsukasa, the potential control she can exercise over Cult assets being low-priority but still dangerous. Recover Indrick for further use, and convert Lich Dirk Fettel.

The final objective was important because while the man in the room was a talented military commander, he needed a suitable right-hand, and thanks the Blitzmordlich and to a lesser extent Indrick, there was just nobody like Fettel.

[Xenonier]

The situation the Airavunian PDF were currently dealing with could best be defined as chaos. The massacre of yet another unit of their best had left them with a toolshed full of blunt objects and one very precarious situation. Despite repeated demands from ... certain senators and interests that they nip this problem surgically, the leaders had absolutely no intention of doing so now. They had secured all of the approaches to the facility with heavy firepower and were now secure in their knowledge the enemy would not escape. After all, it wasn't exactly hard to notice some eight foot high supersoldiers who were swinging around weaponry that demanded the attention of super-heavy tanks, all the more so with the significant amount of imaging equipment they now had set up.

With the situation sealed up, the authorities were already preparing an endgame strike, a veritable fleet of armoured APC's, with advanced mech support to clear the whole event. They weren't going to be restrained by the pleas of politicians to hold off for a bit this time, even if the damned pencil-pushers gave the establishment heck over it later. The PDF had it's pride on the line now. Oh no, none of this lot were getting out alive. Probably Rendari, but they'd leave that to the autopsy divison.

___

While Indrick's surrender had removed another obstacle to effective resolution of this conflict, neither of the Xenonians were happy about the manner in which he had done so. As the Spectres restrained the rogue, Kata was left to frown slightly and gaze down at the knives she still clutched in her fingers. Indrick had offered a rare challenge, a real means for her to lose all senses of identity in a veritable whirlwind of flashing blades. The combat had provided an opportunity for real self extension she knew she wouldn't see again for some time. Finding herself sighing inwardly, the CS agent tucked all of the knives back into her belt before turning towards Fettel, who was seemingly preparing one of those kodak moment death-before-dishonour speeches. The classic phrase that Kata had traditionally countered by pointing out she was prepared to accept quite a lot of dishonour before death. She reached for a cigarette and lighter from a convenient pocket, pausing to light and inhale before continuing with her thought processes.

She would for example, inhabit the body of an odd-looking journalist from an obscure eastern country in a mangini, for a feature length film/documentary. Or wear a maid outfit.

Nonetheless, having Fettel and his band of merry men going to get themselves killed twice wasn't in her playbook for the next fifteen minutes. Although it took a while to get his attention away from the constant shelling outside (which, given the circumstances was entirely understandable), Fettel eventually acquiesced. Kata shuffled over to Fettel and tapped him on the head once more, imparting all the boring details (including a request to use his suit communications systems) .. including exactly why Christoph wasn't intending to leave and why she had stressed only her lack of an offical capacity as an agent of Xenonier. Personally, she felt he would appreciate just what was about to be unleashed on a few unfortunates, even if he wouldn't be able to partake in such meting out of said vengeance. Hearing his internal Commlink crackle into life once more was all the confirmation of his agreeable her alternative for escape that she needed. Clearing her throat, she spoke in a voice enough to carry to all remaining Ravagers on the field.

"Let's make this one quick boys. Basically, I'm sure you're all aware that for the most part, this entire area is sealed off by the PDF, while the orbital defenses ensure it'll take a fair sized naval force to dig us out of this mess. I may be something of a magical girl, but I got nothing with guns, sorry. However, here's the cool bit. Thatroom we slagged ... is a key to getting out of here. I'll leave Fettel to explain the details after we save you from incoming atomization, but suffice to say that my main man Christoph has rigged up a one shot ticket out of here. I suggest you get to falling back now!".

There was no need to add any more to the message, as far as anyone was concerned. Fettel had all the relevant details as to why such a loophole in the planetary defences existed, as well as how indicative it was of the power of the Cult's backers in Airavunian government. The AI itself, as had all exceptionally fast AI designed, faced the unique limitations of attempting communications in this physical plane. Unfortunately for the integrity of the planetary FTLi grid, the only way around this the engineers could come up with however, was a highly localised field around the AI itself which placed the device out of this physical universe. The result was the entire Kalandrite mining facility itself was essentially designed to anchor the AI itself in place, a veritable gap in the planetwide setup. A gap Christoph had spent a significant amount of power into widening for just this occasion.

All things considered however, a Cleaner was capable of just about anything.

With all events hopefully set in order, she didn't bother spending further time talking with any of the agents of Zerstorendar. There was a set radius to the whole evacuation and she had left such details to Fettel. He was far better equipped to lead anyway. One look across to Aimee confirmed the girl was still alive and functional, although still shaken. Deciding to comfort her, Kata soldiered over and took her hand, acting oblivious to the cigarette smoke blowing into her young ward's face. The girl gave a weak smile in response, but Kata would have none of that. She learnt heavily on Aimee's neck and began a little pep talk, pausing only once to lay a kiss on her neck.

"Not exactly where we predicted to be spending your coming of age, I think. Still, your safety is ... important. To me. That said, even if this is fairly unspectacular a present, consider it what a good mother would attempt to give. Safety." Aimee's attempts to utter a word at this stage were snuffed out by a combination of mental exhaustion and the surprise at a newly applied and absolutely ferocious hug from Kata herself.

By now the Ravagers would have been withdrawing to within a smaller perimeter, an assumption made on part by the Xenonians that was backed up by reports from the Marza system as projected energy levels required came to a spike. While Fettel had been acting on his own for the last few minutes, a quick nod from him was the final set of confirmations Syukata needed. Neuralink transmissions read out all the data relevant to the extraction process itself, monitoring and targeting each candidate for transport in turn. She threw one swift look over her shoulder at one of Christoph's bodies, whom was still facing outwards, watching and waiting for any moves by the ever-present PDF ... and to prepare for his own movements. The cleaner had his own objectives to finish up with after all, events Kata hardly expected herself to be playing part in. She watched on as he repetitively clenched his left hand, as if waiting for yet more confirmations she knew they both already had. Her pondering was interrupted however, by reports from Izayoi confirmed new surges in the field they had extended around the facility. Christoph interrupted her thoughts, in his usual dry fashion.

"I'll leave you holding the metaphorical big red button. One touch of the stylus ... of course. "

Fully aware that the best moment to leave was now, Kata took out a final piece of kit from her suit, flipping open a small device's lid to reveal dual screens and flicking the power on with a small switch at the side. Removing the stylus from a side compartment, it took one small tap, and they were gone.

____

Kata's next step was into what a particularly yuppy poet might have termed ... 'the fresh air of freedom'. Izayoi itself came off as a particularly melodious little title (ignoring the fact it's a name for a brand of dismemberment used in knife fighting, that is). Pausing only to let the assembled Rendari succumb to more than a little shock at exactly what they had gotten themselves into, the Xenonian agent continued to write onto her device's touchscreen as she spoke in a rather absent minded tone.

"Allrighty ... just wait a few seconds." and her voice trailed off. The sight in front of was enough to explain what she meant after all.

One dirt path separated a combination of rolling grassy hills and one small barn ahead, the only obstruction between the path of the barn and the position of Kata's little assembly being one postbox ... and on that postbox, the form of a small, scruffy girl with blue eyes, her feet waving well above the ground. She held a letter in between her teeth, had a shotgun lying on her legs, and seemed more fascinated with waving a nearby sunflower in the air than paying any attention to the new arrivals. This uncomfortable interruption continued for the next ten seconds before she decided to squeak out a welcome.

"Okay, we've 404ed you all!. That's Xenonian slang for pulling the plug on an important service just to fuck with your head Ravagers. Write that down, we'll probably do it on your most impatient members in the middle of diplomacy. Mind you, we finished that ages ago .. well before this second anyway. But hell, not my job to chat with you people but my name is Karen, Remilia will be seeing you in ..."

Another change of scenery beckoned, although at least this time it was more appropriate to the situation. The entire party was now in a truly massive room, the roof reaching well into the heights above. There was no windows, but plenty of light, while the lack of windows was echoed by the lack of furniture. If not for the single seated occupant (the floor being her chosen abode), the room could well have been called as sparse and as empty as Kata's appreciation or respect for how this entire setup was probably ticking the Ravagers off. At their entrance, the woman allowed her gaze to move up with a smile and allowed a significant amount of her presence, to gaze back at the Ravagers. Her form was every bit the anithesis of Kata's earlier examples of the 'average' Xenonian woman. She was reasonably tall (perhaps a little under six feet), with a rather flamboyant crop of purple hair and brown eyes which never moved. As she slowly stood up, it was clearly observable carried herself like a consummate soldier, despite the dress she wore bearing frills and all .. as well as a mirror, mounted right on her bosom. The hairband that ran through her hair and was decorated with red flower at the side provided the only clue to her identity, the letters "R.E.M.I.L.I.A" engraved along the spine. Fettel would have recognised the name, even if he hadn't been informed as to more flamboyant ... aspects of her personality.

Moving towards Kata and then Fettel (being innately aware of his position as a 'leader' to this little mob) as she spoke, the woman allowed her voice to move from coy to motherly at Kata and Aimee ... right onto vaguely sensual tone (?) a pause for a look at Fettel.

"Kata dearest. As always, I see his lack of any social conscience whatsoever has been insufficient to get you killed. My only request is that you use the shifter setups on your arms a little more in the future, so that this old warhorse can see her work applied. It is good to see you return, with your ward. Now! Aimee darling, we must go shopping. We'll shop and shop and shop until you never want to partake in such wasteful enterprises ever again, then I'll get you drunk clubbing and beat up on local men until we've got a dumpster full of them".

".... Oh. Officer Fettel, of Zerstorendar. I must say, despite the abilities of the Xenonian communications network for me to see every moment Kata has had the joy of your company, you are by no means a disappointment. All Ravager, all Man, despite some of your kin being in pieces. Luckily for you, we have those pieces, so we'll see how many of them we can put back together. Now ..." her face darkened as she continued to approach him, and she indicated to his ruined stump of a hand.

"Three questions. I could ask a fourth, that being for your phone n ... but well. "

"First ... are you left handed, right handed, or ambidextrous? Secondly .... would you like to me to change that? " (the second comment earned a smile from Kata). Upon ending the second question, Remilia's scanned the room once for the other half of Fettel's arm and for Kata's secondary body before continuing on, with a wink.

"Now, my third question. Do you want that hand fixed in the traditional sense, or would you prefer to keep the original as a souvenir?"

Feeling that this was the right time to offer some sort of council once more, Kata chose this moment to speak, lifting her attention entirely from her drawings. Her tone however had shifted, to something equal parts endearing and sarcasm. Meanwhile, This 'Remilia' had taken what appeared to be a line of ordinary thread, spinning it around her fingers and looking at Fettel's injury while smiling.

"Welcome to Izayoi, Gentlemen. Coatracks to your left"

___

Airavuni's media outlets were already positively crackling with reports on the showdown at the Kalandrite facility, even as the conflict supposedly drew to a close. The massed armour of the PDf had encountered absolutely no resistance in their charge and were securing and investigating the ruins of the position even as the Media continued their games. The 'sucess' of the PDF however, brought absolutely no comfort to any of the frightened Senators with a hand in the whole operation, owing to the lack of bodies. Sure, each Airvuniaian playmaker could sit behind their walls, shields, gates and bodyguards in an attempt to feel safe, but that changed little. Somehow, the hostiles had simply disappeared ... and that left open the possibility they were still on the planet itself, perhaps even beyond the boundaries of Rabona. They could handle these agents in open combat ... but knowing they could be out there as an unaccounted for party and one with a preference for extreme violence, at that.

This, when combined with the warning every senator had received some hours earlier, left the real heads of the conspiracy fearing for their lives in every sense. More than a few had already left the major cities, moving all of their assets to countryside villas ... or Military bases. One such convoy was at this moment, traversing a tightly configured and (supposedly) classified route to one such safe location, carrying in it one of the real masterminds of Airavunian involvement in the cult - Senator Clinton Horne. A true patriot, War Veteran and (to her critics) an absolutely gnarled, manipulative and untrustworthy bitch. The perfect target for Christoph to leave a parting gift, or a veritable shot across the bow.

Which was exactly why one of his bodies was following it as they left. Alongside one other.

Senator Horne's pulse quickened the moment she heard a transmission of "... The hell?" followed by an exhalation, and silence. She turned to look through the window and saw ... nothing. As her brow furrowed with surprise, a voice interrupted her reverie, forcing her to turn behind to look at her new 'friend' sitting alongside the Senator in the backseat. A smiling twenty-something woman with brown hear (tied back) and wearing a skinsuit was now shaking her hand. The suit had the letters "R.E.M.I.L.I.A" emblazoned on the side in bright blue, scrawled over the surface as if drawn by a five year old, and what appeared to be cables floating around the shoulders, all of which pointed in the same direction as her lone eye, the other being covered by a patch. Turning her attention away from the oddity of the suited woman, Horne noticed the black hair, emotionless expression and rough stubble of Christoph's primary body looking back. He was holding two unconscious bodies of what Horne realized (with mounting terror) were two of her bodyguards, powersuits and all.

"You should know who we are. Well, I mean you don't know me, I'm Remilia." was all the first woman had to say to confirm her fears.

Xenonians.

Remilia smiled as she watched the recognition walk all over Horne's expressions.

"I didn't know this car was so badly maintained, madame Senator. See, it's almost as if the power source at the back had decided to explode. Of course, it isn't configured that way in reality, but whatever. I love explosives, and I have the utmost gratitude to dear Christoph as ever, for allowing me to come along with his little series of events. I mean, you're really adorable.. We've even got five minutes to get away before your friends show, which is more than enough time. Now, since I know you don't have any idea who, what, when or where your glorious leader is ... so ". Her tone changed.

"wh wh ... what?"

The Remilia smiled again. This time however, it extended to her eyes, giving what might have been a comical situation in another place and time the menacing air Xenonians were famed for. What appeared to be bat wings (and upon further inspection, were merely the cables manipulating themselves into oddball shapes) emerged from behind her back, slowly extending till they framed her form. Taking a few steps back, the Horne noticed her reaching for a small device and flipping the lid open, before pulling out a Stylus from one of the device's components. She even changed her accent for a bit

" You think you know what manipulation is? So.... t'all you little wannabe big-shots, so proud, so self-centered. Prancing about with your heads full of eyeballs! Come and get us filthy Xenonians I say. I'll be waiting on ya with a smidgen of the 'ol antimatter. I'm a grim bloody fable ... with an unhappy bloody end!". Remilia paused, lifted the stylus to her lips before bringing it back down again with a smile ... and enjoyed herself watching the pretty explosion. While Christoph had precious little to add, Remilia couldn't resist commenting. It was the very reason she had ordered this body after all, for moments such as this.

"Oh, they're going to have to glue YOU back together ... In HELL!".

In conclusion, the remaining Senators linked to the whole schemata of operations under the Umbrella of the Cult of Claire ... as well as other elements, were going to find tomorrow was a very interesting day.

[Zerstorendar]

The events of the last few minutes had been, quite frankly, offputting for each and every one of the Ravagers. While the Spectres were inured to such stimulus, the Ravagers could not help but feel that had lost some of the power that they drew their confidence from. Lich Dirk Fettel, who had killed barely-sentient psychotic monsters with his hands in the swamps of Wrathelm and faced down orbital bombardments, shifted slightly as the odd Xenonian woman, Remilia, approached him and began speaking. He had just about had his full of Xenonians, and now that the battle had died down his suit’s AI, Arg, as well as his body was reminding him he needed to get his arm re-attached. Needless to say, he was in a foul mood. It was only Remilia’s implication that deceased Ravagers could be ‘put back together’ that lifted him out of his simmering discontent somewhat. It definitely wasn’t her amorous and overly-familiar manner that made him feel better.

As the purple-haired oddity finished her introduction, Fettel ignored her for a moment as he communicated with his troops through his internal commlink:

“Stay alert, these Xenonians may seem friendly but that could change in an instant. Surrender the remains of fallen Ravagers to this woman here-“

“Sir!� the Endlich interrupted.

“-That’s an order, and you’ll fucking follow it. I want you all on low alert to prioritize self-healing as well, there’s no telling when we’ll be back in action. Keep your eyes on Indrick and your mouths closed. Leave this Xenonian woman to me, my first priority is getting us back to Zerstorendar.

And good work so far.�

Remilia smiled as Fettel’s commlink audibly switched off and the Ravagers immediately moved to ‘secure’ the area with the smooth precision of professionals. Four of them, including the Endlich, began bringing forward the fourteen bodies that had been recovered. The dead Ravagers were in various states, some having expired from one too-many small arms impacts and others perhaps better described as half-Ravagers with even less intact armour. With the exception of one dead soldier whose body had fallen outside the facility and could not be recovered, the six missing Zerstorendarians had been vaporized by super-heavy weaponry and were beyond the reach of any regenerative technology.

Fettel, taking a quick look at the sedate Indrick, stepped in front of Remilia and drew himself up to his full armoured height of just under nine feet. The Thwarter Powersuit heaved massively as his chest expanded and deflated, and his breath escaped the vents of his visor with a mechanical hiss. Scars of battle covered the red armour, the default dress-colour when active camoflague was inactive. The low hum of his still-active arm-mounted weaponry added to the quiet cacophony of intimdation, and the suit’s eyes glowed threateningly. The Lich rested his remaining arm behind his back. Remilia did not seem remotely intimidated, and instead gave him a lascivious wink while still fingering the line of thread dexterously. Fettel’s brow furrowed as began to speak:

“Thank you for taking us out of that disaster, but you’ll excuse me if I don’t thank you for taking us here. I have a duty to fufill, and that means I have to take this defective fuck-“, he pointed at Indrick, who refrained from nodding graciously to avoid punishment from his two captors, “-back to Zerstorendar. I am in dire need of a debriefing and I have military funerals to organize. So I’m going to make one thing clear: I want out of here at the soonest possible opportunity. While we remain, I want several things from you: I want that medical magic you promised on my Ravagers, an explanation of the Xenonian involvement in the situation, and a proper description of where in Tereza’s name we are.� Fettel paused, leaning in slightly towards the Xenonian:

“And I’m right-handed.�

Indrick, for his part, had all but given up on escaping for the moment. His eyes were open, but he doubted any opportunity would come. No longer possessing any desire to serve the Blitzmord, Indrick preferred to avoid being given back to those who created him. They could, after all, just as easily destroy him. The ex-Spectre considered his options and found that he had only one trump card remaining: the mysterious man who had contacted him prior to his capture still wanted him, and so did Zerstorendar. For now, he was worth more to anyone alive, but he was well and truly captured. Then again, Indrick had his suspicions as to who had contacted him. If his theory was correct, he would be free very soon.

[center]+++++[/center]

Blitzmordlich Sindri and Helgrund Klaitus argued as the Kaiserlich, Kytus Draigan, sat silently.

“I thought you had this planet under control!�

“I do.�

“Then explain how everything went so wrong! Why in Tereza’s name didn’t you assassinate the fucking MILITARY leaders instead of a bunch of useless politicians?�

“I did. I just didn’t get all of them. I was only using sleeper agents, after all. They have their limits.�
Klaitus made a titanic effort to calm down, and lowered his voice:

“This mission was not worth the Ravagers it cost. You field tested your toy, and he was a failure. I’m quite confident that because of him, we didn’t finish off the Cult-“, the Kaiserlich’s eyes flashed dangerously at the mention of the Cult, “-and we’re going to need to initiate a full scale invasion of his planet. Mark my words Sindri: when Indrick gets back, I’ll be having him terminated immediately.�

The Blitzmordlich’s jaw tightened, and he took a step toward Klaitus:

“You will not. He is necessary.�

“For what, exactly?�

“He is useful beyond bel-“

The Kaiserlich stood, and the two military leaders halted their bickering. Kytus stepped around the data-table, his cape trailing behind him. He looked each man in the eye, seeing burning passion in Klaitus and absolutely nothing in Sindri. The Blitzmordlich was an enigma, and the supreme ruler of Zerstorendar never felt as if he had full control over the man, if a man was what he could be called. Kytus spoke:

“Enough of this. Sindri, you may have Indrick alive. But by my father’s grave, you will NOT let something like this happen again. This elaborate operation would have been more successful if we went with Klaitus’ plan and just applied inordinate amounts of brute force. For someone as meticulous as yourself, this was sloppy work indeed. I expect you to either learn something useful from Indrick, or learn from your own mistakes. Leave us, Blitzmordlich.�

Expressionless, Sindri inclined his head and left the room. Kytus and Helgrund both stayed silent until Sindri was well-out of his extensive hearing range.

“What do you think?� asked the Kaiserlich.

“I have no idea, he’s impossible to read.�

“He’s the only one who could hide it, but I’m tired of suspecting my own people. Klaitus, you and I both know the Cult wasn’t going to be wiped out on Airavuni. Two things concern me now: this mysterious leader of theirs, and the Xenonian involvement.�

“I can’t speak for the Cult’s leader, we have no idea whether or not he is still alive. As for the Xenonians, they have proven very capable. Their technology seems to leave ours for dead and their society seems far more advanced.�

“I imagine that’s also their flaw.�

“I imagine so, lord. They could be useful allies.�

“Especially if my suspicions are correct.�

“Especially so.�

“How is the mobilization faring?�

“The Zanekrieger stands ready. We can be ready to deploy to any major warzone nearby within a day. If things go as you fear, we’ll be ready. The Sternsieglich also seems to be confident of our position.�

“So it all comes back to the Blitzmordlich.�

“I suppose it does, lord.�

“Keep an eye on him for me. If he has nothing to hide, he won’t mind your scrutiny. And keep a doubly-close eye on Fettel’s group. If they’ve disappeared, we need to be ready for them when they reappear. Fettel is at least as important as Indrick, and for more stable.� Helgrund Klaitus nodded.

“It will be done, lord Kaiserlich.�

His cape swirling behind him and his low-profile power armour whining, Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan of the Mannlich Imperium of Zerstorendar left his closest confidante to his duties.

[center]+++++[/center]

The man laughed mirthlessly at the unwitting genius of the Xenonians. They had single-handedly removed Fettel and Indrick from his grasp for now, taking the Tsukasa with them, leaving all three objectives of Phase Two unattainable. He would move as soon as they reappeared. With Zerstorendarian military mobilization reaching critical mass, soon would be the optimal time to strike. It was funny, actually. Zerstorendar was preparing everything it had for a foe it didn’t even know, and when this foe finally revealed itself, all their preparation would work against them.

The mysterious man wasn’t sure if it was irony, exactly, but it was definitely funny. He doubted the Blitzmordlich would much care for the joke, however.

He sat back, the bodies of the so-called "Grand Masters" of the Cult of Clare at his feet. Even after so long, the man still prided himself on being able to do his own dirty work.

[Xenonier]

Fettel's demands aside, Remilia was going to fix the arm before moving onto anything particularly serious. As the Ravagers reluctantly handed over whatever bits and pieces of their comrades they were able to carry, she picked out Fettel's hand and observed it for a few seconds, before connecting that particular line of thread to a needle. She smiled at the officer of Zestorendar, before stabbing the implement through the flesh of the severed hand and drawing around half of the material through in under a second. Indicating towards the end of the arm, Remilia ran the needle through that end as well, before beginning to hum.

"And here is a wound ... to go with your uniform" ..

Up until this point she had extended the courtesy of slowing down so that observers could see the process, and now chose the time to amp things up. Her hands became a veritable blur, the thread itself seeming immobile as she worked. Five seconds or so later, the movements stopped and the Xenonian woman held her handiwork up. Fettel's once-severed arm halves were held on by an innumerable mass of threads, of which the combined length seemed to be far greater than the original line Remilia had been holding. The very image of the gap between blood, bone and arteries currently substituted by thread was not to last, however. Pausing to smile once more, she held the now connected-piece up for everyone to see, changing her expression to a far more demure appearance. It was her choice to stop the little ditty she had going however, which triggered the final stage of the restoration process.

The resultant effect on the threads themselves might have convinced someone she had really used some bizzare sort of elastic material. Each and every piece contracted immediately, bringing the once severed ends together with surprising force (although not nearly enough to have a noticeable effect on Fettel's balance). This resulted in what was a essentially a perfect join, the edges of the arm having already sealed up and preventing any further loss of blood. Now confident the Ravager officer wasn't about to take offence to any direct physical contact in this context, Remilia put her hand on the site of the injury for a moment. Even as she looked straight up into Fettel's eyes, he would have felt an odd sensation of warmth spread throughout the injury, building exponentially until it was entirely focused on the very edges of his skin. A brief moment of contact this caused with Arg left her rather amused, which spilled into her next address.

"That should about do it, I think. All primary functions of the hand are online and I've given the suit a decent chance at the same means of recovery. I don't think your AI will have many polite words to add, however.... ". Remilia's complete lack of concern for any of the requests by the officer was clear and while Xenonians would have correctly guessed the preparations were already in place, it doubtless wouldn't have been received all that well by the Rendari. Wiping her brow, the Xenonian prepared to continue, before being interrupted as she opened her mouth to speak. The new voice was one Fettel might have found all too familar and upon noticing a particular small form drag herself to a stand position, Remilia echoed Kata's smile with one of her own.

"If I had known taking a hit for you would leave me unable to mock you for this long, I might well have let you died Fettel. What an eternity!". More than one of the Ravagers's body language seemed to echo sentiments of even more confusion at this point, while Remilia's smile slowly grew wider. Gesturing towards both the hand and the remarkably resilient little red haired-stepchild body, the elder Xenonian women allowed a subtle jibe to sneak into her next sentence.

"Now that we've had a frank demonstration of what our technological voodoo is capable of, we'll deal with those Ravagers. Production facilities and repair facilities are essentially the same thing once you get to it, anyway. You should be thankful a certain Xenonian decided to hurl your friend back within the confines of the facility, I should think. Now, as to your other concerns, let's start with the concept of transporting you and your friends along their merry way home, to play with the other children." Her hand shifted, and Remilia slowly rubbed her fingers together as she thought, extending the length of the pause for almost a minute.

"You'll be arriving at the Xenonian Embassy in the ESUS senate, amusingly enough. We notified them ahead of time, perhaps some hours ago. From there, I suppose it's entirely up to you as to how you get home. The other option of course is of course simply allowing a Xenonian craft or device free reign past any Faster Than Light Travel Inhibitation devices you may to drop you off that way, either option is acceptable to the Irregularity. Both options can be easily accomplished well before the end of the day, if you are willing," - she learned in closer, smiling once more - "ready and able... After all, the repairs of your brothers in arms won’t exactly take long, either. Besides, we need to construct an Embassy in the territory of the Mannlich Imperium anyway. I even know who volunteered to staff it". Even as she spoke, Both Kata's had begun moving, the Blonde Body still leading Aimee about, while the younger form half-hopped and half-ran alongside the pair, stopping only to give a shout of “buh-byeeeee fur nao!!� and a small (yet in hindsight, highly foreshadowing) wave in Fettel’s direction.

At this stage, Remilia turned away for a second, whipping out another twin screened device, complete with Stylus. She handed the machine over to Fettel, before continuing on with her dictation.

"Izayoi. A major Xenonian world in the primary system of the Irregularity. As with the majority of irregularity planets, you'll find it's a veritable paradise, despite the weapons industry present. Orbital construction facilities and defence grids in orbit, Volcanoes for people to go skinny-dipping, the usual. It was the site of a major battle back in the Xenonian-Kakhderaan war, but you're a very 'here and now' type of man, so I'll leave you to either read that, or hand it over to the brainboxes guarding your .... 'defective fuck'". At this stage, her expression changed to a combination of joy and anticipation, a clue towards the next gibe she had in mind. She leaned to the side slightly slightly to observe Indrick, before returning to stare at Fettel.

"Well, I suppose 'defective' is a bit of a misnomer. I'm sure he's not that much of a defective f .. " “ Remilia then cut that line of calculation rather short. There was no need to put any stress on the second word of that term at all. She knew Fettel would get it.

Even if it took him a little while.

She followed this little display with a slow bow, her eyes never leaving a gaze at Fettel despite the change of viewing angle.

“You will have to excuse me, I am a terrible liar. Izayoi is very pretty, let’s make no mistake about that. It’s also a real killer in terms of image, since everyone thinks the young girls and cutesy and retro-american. Now, onto your question about what we intend to do in Airavuni, my response is firstly in the form of a question, that being what do you think we plan with it�

Despite the complete lack of a reply from the Rendari contingent, Remilia appeared in no way miffed. Rather, it seemed to merely imbue her one-sided banter with even more obnoxious energy.

“Let’s not forget that we have always intended to remove elements of this little grouping which participated in both direct and indirect attacks upon citizens of the Irregularity, as well as other creatures whom have dealings with us. Miss Terkata’s involvement was truthfully expressed as for the most part, being a personal choice rather than any official capacity as an agent of Certain Situations, nor any other element of the Irregularity’s assets. As for any further explanations of our involvement, or what we intend to do with the girl … well. They may well return. You may find the planet you’re no doubt trying to crush surrenders from right under you, dear. See, Xenonians are in a sense, nihilists. The world has no inherent moral order, and hence with no god, or moral code other than one formed by natural consensus, we have no clear purpose. Hence, you could say it's a matter of our very existance that we be allowed to help people, for the better�. While the last sentence left plenty to be interpreted, a flick of Remilia’s purple hair clearly indicated she had no intention of continuing on that path.

Taking a moment to stretch, the good General finally decided to move onto what she felt the Rendari might find the most interesting aspect of the whole situation. Yawning absent-mindedly, she continued onwards.

“But yes, poor liars. This Planet is essentially a construction facility. Not just the orbital superstructures or what you might term planet-side facilities, but the whole planet itself. Every piece of this rock that is not looking pretty and green has been converted, from the crustal outer layer right up to (and including) the core. It is these facilities which constantly update Xenonian equipment, as well as allowing our post-scarcity society to exist. Our fellow ESUS members like to throw their weight around with massive uberships they claim are invincible. A temporal rapewagon here, a Twenty-Five Kilometer dreadnought there. It’s all very pretentious. Now, I am not about to go around claiming the one of a kind mutt we are building here is any better - a newly appeared videoscreen behind them started to assess the construction process - but, we do make em pretty strong." Remilia saw no point to expanding on this little note, since it effectively spoke for itself.

Every member of the ESUS knew of Xenonian equipment and its reputation, advanced and intricately designed with a level of commitment and love approaching that of an art form. It was doubtful they had any equal in craftsmanship. Clapping her hands as the vidscreen scrolled through yet more data, Remilia soon switched her attentions to look at a notepad. Upon noting the return of attention of the majority of the Ravagers to her person, she decided to end it.

“We thought of a lot of names for this one, as did the AI himself. Popular choices were The Mother in Law of your Mother in Law and UUDDLRLRBASS, my personal preference being the In your planets, eating mayonnaise sandwiches, dining with your Sister, with the subtext "got no sister? That's what they told you? ;D". But we chose to settle for something a little different, a little stab at everyone elses claims to have an ubership that can beat everyone else’s for dramatic purposes.

We’ve christened it the XDF: Needs More Jiggawatts�

While none of the Ravagers looked impressed by the name, Remilia was positively beaming inside. After all, she knew Fettel had never asked for the details on Xenonian military hardware, nor had his original request been for anything other than a means of keeping his charges busy. That said, she had kept them occupied all right. Whether or not the Rendari would feel quite so privileged when they discovered everything she had said was clearly on public Xenonian records (with no copyright licence and widespread distribution), was another matter.

The Spectres doubtless knew that already, however. They might even have appreciated that it kept the Ravagers quiet for a bit. Any such thoughts however, were interrupted by a beeping coming from the dual-screen device Remilia had handed Fettel some time ago.

With another genuine smile, a sigh and an expression of “Well, want to see your men now?�, the Xenonian General brought the little party back onto the consideration of their impending passage.

____

Horne's removal had removed the last charted objective for the Xenonian pair, by all accounts. The media setup which would dethrone every single one of the senators who woke up in their beds alive this morning was already in place, ensuring that loose end would essentially resolve themselves. As had been promised by Christoph much earlier, the coverage would escalate until every single scalp had been claimed, public horror at the situation the Zestorendarian Ravagers had contributed to driving security concerns home. Strolling through an empty street several miles from the site of Horne's demise, the two Xenonians trawled the streets, appearing as an affluent and satisfied (if constantly bickering) coupel. Despite the relative success of this segment of the operation however, Christoph was determined to investigate one more lead, something Remilia was only too happy to acquiesce to. The conversation that took place along the neuralinks determined this last avenue of investigation.

"When Horne had certain blonde haired operative of mine shot, do you remember the events around it?"

"... And those would be, my dear toph? The extravagant home cooked meal, or the disembowelment that followed when her goons tried to dispose of dear Kata's body?"

"The Meal. Home cooking. Roast Chicken, Apple Pie, a little light on the sides. Only Gravy, and we confirmed she cooked it herself, not the staff. Straight talker, no extraneous details or variables. Not very subtle. "

"Right, and the oncoming conclusion from you that there's another force behind all this has nothing to do with the fact you just hacked her communications records, the data taken from the AI, or a million and one other forms of research you've been doing while Kata pretended to be the older sister to a fragile teenager?Please, I've been expecting that one for a least a few th's attached to a number with a power of over one thousand and eighty ni ..."

"Irrelevant. Whoever is behind this has the perfect environment to work from the top down. Senators are no longer exposed, but the Cult's operations are likely to be so. Horne's communications records clearly indicate they're in the process of scrambling to move operations for the Storm that is about to break tomorrow. Since you only elected to bring one body ..."

As the two continued back and forth akin to a married couple, the other fragments of the conversation amounted to little more than an implicit continuation of the mild gibes, insults and Remilia continually espousing how adorable she thought Rendari soldiers were. This banter continued even as they dropped all pretense and took to the rooftops, flipping on thermoptic camoflague and dashing across the city districts. The only break in the unconcerned subject nature of their conversation was a single observation from Remilia upon the readings Christoph's other bodies determined from the 'headquarters' of the Cult of Claire, one remark about how "Oh, how the irony would skyrocket if they convert this place into an abattoir ...".

They were looking for someone with either the confidence to start at the very top ... or someone with just enough to lose for such boldness. Thus it was that as Christoph and Remilia arrived to at Horne's little convoy destination and sat on the edge of the balcony overlooking the entrance, they felt reasonably confident of meeting someone. Either way, Horne's cautiousness had given them another minor advantage over the mysterious puppetmaster. All of the security protecting her had been her own - it would take an autopsy report to warn those who wanted confirm her (pre)mature death by Xenonian hands.

Well, either that or gluing her back together.

[Zerstorendar]

Lich Dirk Fettel’s expression was concealed by the aggressive visage of his combat visor, though Remlia would not likely have taken offence to his frustrated rolling of eyes. There would be plenty of time to debrief on Xenonian technology. Xenonian naval capabilities had little to no bearing on his current mission and so he wasn’t interested. On the other hand, both Spectres found the tidbits of information Remilia was offering riveting, as did Indrick.

Her offer to show Fettel his ‘resurrected’ men and transport the Zerstorendarians to the ESUS Senate, where they could be transported to Zerstorendar in a matter of hours, had far more bearing on his objective. The eccentric Xenonian, who was smiling demurely at Fettel while she waited for his response, had for all intents and purposes given him a tour of Izayoi and its important points. As such, he was no longer even remotely interested in his surroundings and accepted them with the careful detachment of a professional soldier. He was on edge, Arg was constantly telling him to ‘keep at least two eyes on that xeno-bitch’, and he had finally tired of dancing around the issue.

“Yes, I want to see my men. And yes, I want out of here as soon as possible, whether or not it is at your convenience. I’ll not tolerate any more distractions, and I will only wait so long. If you Xenonians are really as effiecient as you claim to be, you’ll have us at the embassy in the next Tereza-damned hour.�

Remilia was perfectly aware of what Fettel wanted before he said it, but seemed amused with the dominance with which he made his demands. For his part, Fettel was already ignoring her playful stare and considering his next move. Things weren’t adding up, and he needed to talk to the Spectres about it.

The Ravager turned and approached the two Spectres holding Indrick. Fettel leaned in to talk to Operative two, the now de-fact leader of the Blitzmord Operatives after Indrick’s malfunction. The leaning was unnecessary, as they were talking over a closed commlink, but he did it anyway.

“What are your thoughts, Operative.�

“On what, Lich Fettel?�

“Don’t fuck with me.�

Operative Two shared a quick glance with Operative Three before continuing. The two of them had obviously been communicating using their fancy mindfuckery, and Indrick had almost certainly been listening in. Fettel supposed they judged that Indrick could not possible be any more dangerous than he already was anyway.

“Alright, Lich. I’ll tell you what I think. I think this operation was a calculated failure. Contrary to your expectations, I believe this mission went exactly as planned.�

“Why?�

“I don’t know.�

“I’m not going to warn you again, Operative Two. You are under my command for the purposes of this mission, and you will answer my question.�

“Threats will not work on me any more than will pulling rank. I don’t know.�

Fettel’s suspiscions continued to simmer, though Arg continued to assure him that many of the Ravager’s theories were ludicrous. Still, he couldn’t be sure. He had been given this mission by two people: the Blitzmordlich Sindri, and the Zanekriegerlich Klaitus. Fettel trusted the latter absolutely. And if the Spectres were hiding something from him, the Blitzmordlich was up to something.

If that ‘something’ was not in the best interests of Zerstorendar and the Kaiserlich, nothing would stop Fettel from ensuring the Blitzmordlich was stopped in his tracks.

The two Spectres, while unable to read Fettel’s thoughts due to the special barriers placed on his mind for the engagement with Indrick, knew exactly what he was thinking. His suspicions could not be safely alleviated, but they were following protocol. All Spectres possessed Total Recall to a level that even the most eidetic of geniuses, and the words of the Blitzmordlich were clearer than day:

“If Fettel suspects something, which I imagine he will by the completion of the Airavuni phase, then redirect suspicion toward myself. Protect the Kaiserlich.�

Blitzmord agents were incapable of disobeying orders, except for a certain ex-Operative Indrick. Indrick knew it all, and so it was essential beyond imagining that the Blitzmordlich get him back. Indrick was too useful to be disposed of, and the favour he had been shown so far proved that he was still relevant.

As their musings reached their respective conclusions, both the Spectres and Fettel happened to process the same oft-repeated line of Zerstorendarian propaganda at the same time:

‘For the Kaiserlich.’

Their meanings, however, were completely different.

+++++

The man was rather frustrated, and though it wasn’t in his nature to let it show his partner could tell. He was busy tying up loose ends, and so far had personally killed nearly twenty high-ranking Cult members as well as Airavunian high-flyers. The planet was in chaos with Zerstorendar having attacked it from within and without, rumours of another mysterious force flying around, and the planetary leadership too paralyzed by fear to act in any way to calm the populace.
It was all going to plan, though currently there was a minor hitch. The man’s final, and perhaps most important political target was a woman by the name of Clinton Horne. She was a Senator whose power and connections extended far beyond her office, and while she knew very little of the Cult itself, she had been one of its principal backers.

It went without saying that she needed to die, and the man was quite looking forward to doing the deed. He was a man of principle, honour, and personal courage, and he found her modus operandi despicable. And it was looking like she had managed to make herself disappear on her own terms.

When Senator Horne had fled the capital in an attempt to reach the safety of one of her secluded retreats, the man had known every detail. When she had removed funds from primary accounts and done everything in her power to conceal her escape, he had watched her. And when she finally disappeared from his radar (he was tracking her using a little device she didn’t know she was carrying), the man was baffled. That wasn't to say he didn't know what to do.

He flexed his gloves, his enhanced hearing just picking up the low buzz of his armour’s powered mechanisms working with his anatomy. His armour was rather tighter fitting than he had warn in his military days, but far more potent. He knew for a fact it put the ‘Thwarter’ Powersuits used by Zerstorendarian Ravagers to shame, for example. He was no slouch without it, but with the armour on, no mere man could stand in his way.

Though, he conceded, many of his foes were not mere men.

He scratched the light stubble on his chin, turning to look at his partner with his usual calculating but light-hearted gaze. She meant more to him than he would ever admit, and he knew he would never have to. She thought much the same way, thought she hardly acted like it.

Her eyes flicked to the side and she partly met his gaze as their airborne conveyance took them to Senator Horne’s secret villa:

“Stop worrying, dear Sulla. I’m sure if she isn’t there, you can just smash a few of her servants to bits.�

The woman was an oddity, especially considering her place of origin. She was a shoulder-length blue-haired, brown eyed woman of below-average height and muscular physique. She wore her own suit of powered armour, which was bulkier than the man’s but of equal quality. Her armour was of the same make and had the same specifications, but the bulk was her own personal preference. When she put the combat visor on, she was actually the larger of the two. She always found the role reversal amusing, considering the relative size difference when they were both unarmoured.

While the man, who she referred to as Sulla, tended to prefer the use of energy blades and ranged weaponry that would outperform even that of a Zerstorendarian Spectre’s, she herself tended to use far more exotic weaponry: she possessed a very powerful claymore-sized sword with a shimmering edge that far belied its destructive power, and a much smaller dagger. The dagger seemed rather uninteresting when compared to the monstrosity strapped over the back of her Powersuit, but she valued it even more. The dagger was rather ornate, and while it possessed no power-field, it had its own capabilities. It was always sheathed on her person, and she often brushed her fingers against its brilliantly-carved gold-adamantium hilt.

The man frowned down at his partner, her levity disturbing him. He had known her for long enough to expect nothing less, but even he could not see the humour in something so important. He had planned and sacrificed much, in the process ruining the few for the benefit of the many. The Cult was all but gone, Zerstorendar was within his grasp once more for the first time in many years, the many elements of his plan were coming together.

“I’d appreciate it if you would focus for now, Helen. I wasn’t expecting to bring you into this until the Xenonians interfered, and if my suspicions about Horne are true, I will need every little trick you can conjure.�

The heavily-armoured, blue-haired woman raised an eyebrow:

“It’s not often you refer to me as a full-blown sorcerer! I daresay that’s a real step-up from a mere witch. The compliment leaves me all aflutter, dear Sulla�, she said with a playful grin.

Sulla continued to glare, and her face took on a more serious expression:

“You should know me well enough by now.�

This time it was the man’s turn to smile:

“Indeed. I trust you not the fuck this up.�

“Fucking things up was never my thing. Depending on the context, I would say that is your specialty.�


The ship’s intercom opened, the tinny voice of an armoured pilot coming through crisply:

“Two minutes to arrival, my lord and lady. Scanners have failed to pick up Horne.�

Helen and Sulla shared a telling look, the suspicions of the latter seeming ever more plausible.

“They may be more than we can handle.�, said the woman.

“I doubt it.�

Helen, her fingers playing over the hilt of her dagger, asked another question:

"Why are we doing this ourselves? I know you're a very hands on kind of man, but you have agents who could do this sort of dirty work without risking yourself."

The man answered without hesitation: "If you're not willing to do it yourself, it's not worth doing."

With that, the two ceased all communication and put on their combat visors, becoming no more than two anonymous and formidable killers. The man took off the black cloak he had been wearing for so long, an act of symbolism that was not lost on his partner.

[center]+++++[/center]

The Airavuni-constructed personal transport shuttle came down onto Horne’s landing pad with a hiss. The arrival of Sulla and Helen was scheduled, and the two of them were not surprised that there were only three delegates here to greet them. Something was definitely out of order in the Clinton house.

Striding from the shuttle, Helen thought her fully-armoured male partner, with his broad shoulders and billowing black cloak, looked rather fetching. Ah, but for circumstances. She hung back as the man wordlessly marched to the three waiting senatorial personnel, acting as his rather menacing shadow. Her jovial expression or long blue hair were not visible to lighten her visage, as such she just looked like a silent bodyguard with a very expensive Powersuit. And a big sword.

“Where is the Senator�, Sulla demanded of the men.

They shifted slightly, having met this man a number of times in his most businesslike form. They knew better than to try and establish any sort of rapport with him, so they answered simply:

“Senator Horne was k…killed earlier today. An explosion did it…we…don’t know what did it.�

Sulla turned as he addressed Helen via their closed commlink:

“Then we can’t just make her disappear. These people all need to die, and we need to find out what happened to her.�

Helen’s head moved up slightly:

“What is it?�

“There are two people sitting on the balcony over there.�

“And?�

“Two figures. A woman and a man. The man is dressed in a suit, the woman a skinsuit with the name ‘Remilia’ scrawled across it. Quite odd, actually, no sense of fashion. She’s also listening to something, by the looks of it�

Sulla lifted his gaze to follow Helen’s line of sight:

“Ah, so I see. Xenonian agents.�

“Can we handle them?�

“They won’t attack.�

“How can you be sure?�

“They don’t have a reason to.�

“Do they have a reason not to?�

“That’s not how they think.�

“Ah, so they’re nothing like that Ravager you’ve had your eye on, or my own dear Bolt.�

“No. Speaking of Bolt, tell him he has a large number of people to kill. And I want it done quietly, for once.�

“He’ll be thrilled.�

Helen contacted her own right-hand man, a formidable man by the name of Bolt Vandren, with the relevant orders. Details aside, once assured he would be arriving in about ten minutes to clear Horne’s estate of living beings, she tapped Sulla on the shoulder and the two of them strolled into the mansion dominating the estate, ignoring the timid protests of the three men at the landing pad. Neither of the two had time for dead men.

Making their way toward the front balcony, Sulla cleared his thoughts and narrowed down the questions he would be asking. He needed to know why the Xenonians were here and what interest they had in him, why they killed Horne, why they assisted the escape of the Zerstorendarian assault force, and what they were going to do from hereon in.

As they marched across the final room leading to the balcony, the pair’s picked up the muffled sound of the music that Remilia was listening to:

‘…triumph…I'm making a note here, huge success!...�

He found them odd already. Helen reserved judgement as the two of them emerged on the balcony where the Xenonians sat.

Sulla spoke immediately:

"Greetings, and I suppose I should thank you for killing Airavuni’s most maligned Senator, but I won't. Rather, would you care to explain your involvement in my business?"

[Xenonier]

So, Fettel had finally decided to get to the point.

Well, that was that.Was the thought train Remilia had chosen to pursue about it all. Since he wanted to get home, she decided to indulge him that small luxury. Before any of the Rendari had the time to expect a reply, she started walking away, speaking as she left. The system had already been rigged up that the moment Fettel made a step forwards (presumably to demand she stop 'fucking with him', that was) they would be at the Embassy, immediately. One last little present of disorientation.

"That's about all we have time for, I think. Goodbye, Ryeenedaaaarrreeeeee. Next time you return, I expect you to give me a little more forewarning, so I can be ... more accommodating. That'll be nice. Which suits my boys, the Ansal unit, just fine. If you return here, we’ll be waiting and watching ... "

The room behind her however, was already empty.

Fettel wouldn't be too happy about the circumstances, but Xenonians had never been particularly accommodating. That said however, she had taken the courtesy of asking the Karen to ensure they found their own kind at the senate itself.

_____

Once the armoured figure had finished talking (threatening?), the whole spectacle was left with something of an uncomfortable silence. Remilia's little machine had stopped with an audible click some moments before and since then, the Xenonians had made no overt moves to recognize the presence of the challenger. While Remilia allowed her gaze to move from the figures to gaze at the horizon once or twice, Christoph merely continued to observe, unmoving. Naturally, it was Remilia who chose to move first, allowing a smile to creep onto her face as she reached for what appeared to be a shot glass. Before she could perform any sort of action with it however, Christoph intervened.

"And why would you want to do that?" The comment drew an annoyed glance from his companion as she sat the glass down, the expression on her face a queer mixture of curiosity and longing, as if she had expected to be denied this indulgence and was now determined to know the reason. That 'look' was gone in less than a second however, replaced with a demure smile and a question of her own.

"Not even the coat? It is rather chilly, I demand a demand a means with which to make this interesting". Remilia followed this with a vague pointing notion, indicating towards the cables that connected to the back of her suit. Her request was met with a flat refusal.

"How typical of the Scarlet Woman to ask for something twice as severe as compared to what I initially denied.". At this, the Xenonian woman sighed and rolled her eyes once, before reaching back over to the shot glass and raising it in a mocking toast to the newcomers (despite the lack of any liquid inside it). Once he had returned the glass to it's previous position, she held her hands out in front of her face, palms down and shook them three times. Before a normal person had noticed the movement, her hands had begun to shake in place, blurring the movements to a sea of mismatched images, a veritable drummer without the tools or the kit to play. While performing this little action of repetition she was addressing them directly.

"A little arrogant to say it's entirely your business, I think. The good Senator and her merry band of friends have had issues with the Irregularity, that in itself was reason enough to act against them. As for the Rendari, any objective analysis of Xenonian foreign policy shows we help our own. Your comments are useful for this brainbox sitting on my right however, gives him plenty to think about. To analyse, because I'm far too lazy to do those sorts of things. When you're fond of alcohol and scaring males, among other factors of my general incompetence, you don't get as much as you could done. General! Ah, puns." At the conclusion of this little tirade, Remilia looked exceptionally pleased with herself. Naturally, she had said a almost nothing at all, or at least almost nothing they would be able to equate into meaningful information.

Which left that job to Christoph.

"Unless you have secondary data to add to the equation, our concerns are unlikely to involve the termination of your person. You're not the type to support the embezzlement of funds towards the purpose of outfitting a fundamentally uncontrollable and unpredictable military arm. Those actions are not consistent with your heavy reliance on the principles of strict operational security and effective military organisation, which are doubtless stressed in what must have been a longstanding military career. These hallmarks were not present in the actions we came to investigate, nor the sources we intend to and already have undermined. In simple terms, You do not pattern match with the personality of a jingoist, or you wouldn't have managed to survive this long with the resources you have. The consideration you are here does produce some doubtful consideration onto how careful you are with your life, your historically certified leadership style favours a willingness for autonomous, action-derived goals which may place you in harms way. After all, if you are what the capabilities of your suit indicates, Zerstorendar owes a lot to you."

“I found a case study of the last one hundred years of Zerstorendar interesting, despite the limited resources available due to government sanctioned information censorship on the whole event. The timing of the uprising was of particular notice. Zerstorendar was a key point in the development of significant concentrations of industrial materiel. The process certainly began long before you came and went from the annals of history, but I suspect you have had a hand in current events. Otherwise, numbers beginning decades before the Cult of Claire simply do not compute. The development infrastructure that was primarily focused on internal economic management was fed into a new wave of military development in preparation for the next expected wave of conflicts, creating a two hundred and seventy five point three percentage increase in Military Industrial spending in the ten years following your departure, and the planned construction of the Tereza class battleships. However, at least eighty nine percent of the primary infrastructure investment in the century beforehand is growth you could have influenced. Much of Zerstorendarian economic management has been fed into this new organisational ideology, but the pieces were in place long before I suspect the Cult even planned their little insurrection. Therein lies the greatest contradiction of all. The current Kasierlich, whom is by no accounts as aggressive or deterministic than those before him; in reference to the construction of a military-industrial complex as a primary tier of Zerstorendarian infrastructure , has inadvertently created the largest war economy on a percentage of Gross Domestic Product basis, in this entire galaxy. However, it was machinations years beforehand, extending back at least two generations, which began this.�

Remilia’s brief interruption into Christoph’s own analysis with a comment the wonder of fukken economics provided the only change in tone. The Xenonian woman was currently preoccupying herself by pointing at the sky, conversing with Christoph in confidence.

Code: Select all

So, did you end up confirming if any of them are still here, Chrissy dear?
None. I was thorough back then, it has resulted in the now.
Do you think I could take those two?
How is that relevant to this situation?
Just a question.
Yes and No.
Only because you would step in. And kill all three of us.
There is that consideration, yes. Not that physical death has ever stopped you before.

“This leaves two scenarios. The first of these is that you made a colossal error in judgment. The very instruments you put in place and the current regime has continued upon have created a shadow-system that far outweighs the power of the Kaiserliches office itself, and owes loyalty to none. Those inside the system cannot see far enough ahead to guess the direction, while those outside it see only the “loyalty� which produces increasing market returns and the tools for conquest. The current Kaiserlich’s ability to tie together and improve upon the systems you put in place has accelerated the degeneration of any gap between Military-Industrial Ideology as a separate component from armed warfare. All lines of key economic production have been bent towards a single priming factor, armed conflict. Zerstorendar must expand because it has to expand, regardless of the wills of any autocracy to impose a modicum of restriction on the matter. The production and management of artificial intelligence systems to administrate, research projects, organisational loyalties … even the laws and lobbying built to accommodate these systems has developed well beyond initial parameters. Despite this, you evidently have more faith than I do that a critical implosion under the weight of this infrastructure is not imminent, or you would not have waited this long to act about it.

The other option is, you intended for the above to happen and now intend to benefit from it.�

At the end of this, Remilia raised a hand in complaint, smiling while speaking for a brief moment, before being cut off. "Irrelevant to the primary reason you investigated or not, there is always the argument that termination of them here would greatly simplify any oncoming ..."

Despite the suggestion, Christoph's voice and tone never changed as he dismissed the idea, before continuing to speak straight at the Zerstorendarians.

"Half of your pleasure in life is raising the ideas you know we have already discarded, Remilia.

Your continued existence, significantly alters operational parameters. Up until this point, continued operation by members of Certain Situations as per hostility considerations on your person (that is, what we had considered your person to be before this meeting) was justifiable. Actions taken against Zestorendar are in themselves, notable enough to the Protectorate given the balance of power in this region. The actions undertaken by the Standardizer contingent here were ill considered and thus, had to be resolved with significant velocity. A war would not be necessary to render this planet a boon to anyone's interests in this sector. You however, are also of Zestorendar and the system you left to them has become a self-sustaining behemoth which you evidently seek to have a reckoning with. This is no longer an ancillary war of Zestorendarian territorial considerations. It has become a referendum as to the contextual future of this entire sector. The only systems that might have been able to highlight this problem from the inside the AI's that organise the production facilities, are tied to the same vulnerabilities as the rest of the machine. There are few, if any internal means to absolve this conflict and if the Spectres are as unbreakable as your propagandists claim, you have probably begun to subvert some of them, if not all. Meanwhile, the system continues to expand outward, to the point it may well be the expectation of the Irregularity to do something about it, years into the future.� Christoph continued, reaching behind himself and rummaging around for an unspecified object.

“A closed system of this type is always the same. All they can do is repeat the same patterns, ad inifinitum�. While the emotionless tone was consistent, one might almost be able to detect a greater meaning behind the last words the Cleaner spoke.

On this significantly more enigmatic note, Christoph finally indicated he had finished his analysis. Remilia was now smiling cheekily, and she chose to leap down from her perch to join events on the ground. A coat followed her leap downwards and the moment it neared, the cables of her suit ensnared it, drawing it over her body as both skinsuit and coat turned red. Numerous belts clipped into place, securing the garment as she spoke.

“You are a military man. You would never entrust the dismantling of .. or reckoning with this system to foreigners. That would give them a stake into whatever follows your little Ragnarok, and you’re too proud … or resourceful for that. Furthermore, since I have a growing suspicion you are not behind the PDF forces that are being repositioned to come here, you might want to get the man you're sure to send out in an attempt to clean this mess up another sidequest.�

"After all" - Remilia sighed, flicking her hair to one side as she spoke. - "You can't ever stop the free flow of information, you dummkopfs."

As she indicated roughly in the direction of the night skyline (soon to break into morning) at roughly where she expected a PDF arrival, the Xenonians had little more to add. Quite frankly, they had said enough.

[Zerstorendar]

Helen giggled, the sound coming out as a rather disturbing rasp from her armour:

“Haha, wow. I would just LOVE to chop that Xenonian woman in half. She’s a real nutcase. Dummkopfs? The fuck does that mean�

“No idea.� lied Sulla. “And I’m glad you restrained yourself, then.�

“You didn’t get the urge to put your fist into that guy’s face at all?�

“Very much so, actually, but I imagine not for the same reasons.� Helen scratched her visor, a subconscious mannerism associated with thinking:

“They did know quite a bit, didn’t they. I really would love to know how the fuck those bastards got so much shit on Zerstorendar for a start. What is that backstabber Sindri doing if not his Tereza-damned job!?�

“It didn’t seem so much that they had found vital information. The two of them, I assume mainly the man, just have an uncanny ability to draw conclusions that are mostly correct.�

“Do you think they know who we are?�

“They don’t know anything, they are just making assumptions.� Helen rolled her head slightly in annoyance:

“Just answer the question.�

“It seems so.�

“Then we have to kill them!�

“It’s too late now, and that would have been the worst possible move. It doesn’t matter what they know, I’ll be moving on both Fettel and the Kaiserlich-“ the man chuckled before continuing “-very soon. Airavuni is all tied up, we just need to pay attention to the now. That is, the PDF are coming and we have several people to kill. Tell Bolt to go in hot.�

Helen laughed:

“Actually, I just got word. My boys are already here.�

“Five minutes, then we’re gone.� Helen squealed with excitement as she pulled her massive claymore off of her back, and she bounded off in search of someone to kill. Sulla didn’t bother activating his energy blades, and decided to get on top of the mansion for a bird’s eye view and ensure nobody snuck off. With no need to brace himself, his formidably accelerated physique combined with his powerful suit allowed him to easily make the five metre jump to the roof. Staying low and keeping his weapons warm, he tried to ignore the sounds of Helen brutally smashing furniture and cutting screaming men and women in half as he thought. In several seconds he had developed a path of maximum efficiency for Bolt’s newly-arrived soldiers to travel in order to inflict the most damage as quickly as possible.

Back at the landing pad, he could see the single shuttle of Helen’s personal retinue hovering several metres above the ground as fifteen black power-armoured soldiers jumped and landed, their armour easily absorbing the shock. Led by a huge man in an indentical suit of power armour to those of the men around him, they dispersed and began assaulting the panicking civilians with practiced-efficiency. Sulla smiled. The large man, known as Bolt Vandren, was a Zerstorendarian Ravager Officer back in the day. Indeed, Sulla could still remember him making an excellent Primelich. Of course now he was reduced to leading smaller units of ex-Ravagers, but he still performed admirably in everything.

It still pleased Sulla to watch ex-Ravagers fight with Airavuni Special Forces issue equipment. He compared every aspect of every action they performed to those he had observed assaulting Fettel’s Ravagers at the earlier siege, and was satisfied that his own soldiers were superior.

Ah, the delights of commanding such quality soldiers. Soon he would be back to commanding entire armies of such men. He let his mind wander for a few moments to the two Xenonians: their bickering was interesting, but seemed to imply a very close relationship. Their personalities did not match up, which again seemed appropriate. The man was quite the calm one, while the woman was more excitable. Sulla couldn’t help but draw comparisons between himself and Helen. Like Helen, he imagined there was much more to the Xenonian woman than met the eye. Christoph might be more dangerous, but when it came to his physical well-being, Sulla suspected she might be the one to watch. Hopefully he would never encounter the pair again: Xenonian involvement on the part of the current Kaiserlich would seriously complicate his later plans.

The collapse of a small booth under the weight of small arms fire, crushing a woman to death and followed by silence, pulled him out of his reverie. In under two minutes, the entire mansion and its grounds had been cleansed of any life but that of the seventeen armoured figures prowling the area. It took another minute to double-check for survivors, forty seconds to embark upon the shuttle, and just over a minute to level the mansion with the shuttle’s onboard weaponry.

The PDF arrive two minutes later, finding nothing but rubble and unrecognizable corpses. It would go down as just one more of many unbelievable occurrences of the day, those in charge of compiling a report never realizing exactly who the PDF had missed by only a couple of minutes.

Helen removed her helmet, her long blue hair slightly sweaty and partly stuck to the sides of her head. Her eyes were alight with excitement, and her hands trembled slightly as they clutched her still-active claymore.

“Wasn’t that FUN?�

“It was business.�, replied Sulla as Helen rolled her eyes.

Bolt Vandren approached, his head inclined toward Sulla.

“My Lord, are we moving yet?�

Bolt was a large man, still very much a Ravager in physique if not in title. While he was still referred to as a Primelich in the small military force he commanded in Sulla and Helen’s name, it had been years since he had served as an Officer in the Zanekrieger. His personality was quite stable, and his cool demeanor was one that was rarely found in the ranks of Zerstorendarian soldiers. His aggression levels were deceptively high, the difference being that he tended to save it for the battlefield. He had been given lots of work over the last few days, something he was thankful for.

Bolt had been a faithful companion to Helen during the years after the Cult of Clare’s rebellion when she had been in exile from Zerstorendar, and she was almost as close to him as she was to her own husband. This did not concern Sulla overly: he had his own mistress, which DID concern Helen. She hadn’t mentioned that part.

In answer to Bolt’s question, Sulla removed his helmet and nodded:

“Yes, we’re leaving. I’ll be paying a visit to Fettel, then we’re going to get started taking back what is ours.�

Primelich Bolt Vandren saluted by placing his hand on his breast, his excitement only barely concealed beneath his stoicism.

“For the Kaiserlich!�

[center]+++++[/center]

In what was a thoroughly disorientating experience, Fettel suddenly found himself no longer on Izayoi at Remilia’s side, but inside the Xenonian section of the ESUS Senate. Even more surprisingly, he noticed that all of his deceased Ravagers were not only alive and well, but fully intact and armoured as if they had not participated in any battle. He shook his head slightly, pistons hissing as he did so:

“How the…� The Endlich was equally surprised:

“…Sir?�

“Well I’ll be fucked. Xenonian witchery. Conduct a roll call, we’ll have to debrief these men double thoroughly when we get back to Zerstorendar.� Opening communications to every member of his squad, Fettel had a few more words to say: “We’re nearly back home now, and it seems we’re out of the woods. But I don’t feel calm just yet, so pay attention. And for those of you who have been resurrected: welcome back to the Zanekrieger.�

“…FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!� The Ravagers spun around to locate the source of the yelling, while the several Xenonians in the room seemed unperturbed:

Two more Ravagers had appeared out of nowhere, presumably late from Izayoi. They were the two who had been disintegrated completely, and they both seemed rather put-out. One had his weapons active and was pointing it at everything he could in what was presumably an effort to locate a non-existent foe, and the other looked as if he was about to dive away from where he was standing. Under his visor, Fettel’s jaw dropped. His combat AI, Arg confirmed that the two men were the two who were atomized during the course of the battle on Airavuni.

“Si-sir!? Where did the enemy go? Where are we?� one of the two stammered out while aiming carefully at a Xenonian who was playing some sort of video game. Fettel approached the two men and put his hands on their shoulders, just as surprised himself:

“Tereza-damned Xenonians. That’s some bullshit tech they have…well, welcome back to the world soldiers. All I need to tell you is that the battle is over, and we’re at the ESUS senate on our way back to Zerstorendar. Er…your AI’s are reporting that you are both back to normal, but I’ll be needing you both to report to the medical section ASAP.�

“Yes sir�, the two of them replied somewhat unsurely.

“What the…?�, interjected the Endlich as he spun around in response to a tactile response from his armour. He turned to see the roughshod Xenonian girl that had greeted them when they first entered Izayoi, poking him in the back with her shotgun. The Endlich growled slightly, and looked to Fettel, who shook his head.

“I’ll bet this is all fucking hilarious for you, isn’t it Karen. Or whatever.�

The little girl stuck her tongue out, spun the shotgun around her fingers, and skipped off. Arg was subtly suggesting he kick her in the back of the head and Fettel could not help but think he was developing an irrational hatred of little girls, but he followed anyway. He waved for his troops to follow too. The presence of fifty massively armoured soldiers did nothing to intimidate or even surprise the myriad of Xenonians scattered around their embassy. Fettel’s senses picked up a distinct tang of beer and other cheap alcoholic beverages in the air, and it was vastly apparent that the Xenonians, most of which were dressed like slovenly teenagers, were either drunk or hungover.

“I suppose I couldn’t expect much less from these crazy bastards. It’s still pathetic, however.� The Endlich nodded, and the Ravagers ignored the furiously gaming aliens around them. Their guide stopped to briefly and disjointedly converse now and then, and received a number of seemingly irrelevant comments as she passed certain members of the Irregularity:

“This boss is a real bitch, eh?�

“I’ll beat level five before you get out of here, I’ll bet!�

“fgsfds my head…�

Eventually, the group exited the insane labrynth that was the Xenonian embassy of the ESUS Senate, and Karen blew Fettel a kiss before disappearing back into the embassy. Fettel shook his head, thoroughly tired of Xenonians.

Inside the ESUS Senate, members and officials from any number of races populated the area in vast numbers. Facehuggerian Senators walked accompanied by very friendly-looking soldiers, a number of graceful figures with pointed-ears could be spotted, Kostemetsian and Skeelzanian ambassadors walked around with a rather contemptuous gaze at the Zerstorendarian soldiers who forced their way through them, and for most of the Ravagers it was the first time they had seen a Sskiss.

“The fuck is that?�

“Sskiss.�

“Can they talk?�

“I doubt they can speak Zerstorendarian.�

“I bet they’d be good at mixing it up hand to hand.�

“Probably shit at holding swords though. Mind on the job, Endlich.�

Eventually the group arrived at the Zerstorendarian senate, considerably smaller and more space-efficient than its Xenonian counterpart. It featured several sparring and training chambers for the soldiers and civilian personnel stationed there, as well as a barracks and a number of offices. Fettel quickly organized the temporary stationing of his men at the barracks with strict orders to keep their mouths shut, and headed for the Primus Ambassador’s office with only the Endlich accompanying him.

The Primus Ambassador was the highest ambassadorial rank in Zerstorendar, and was automatically a member of the Secundlich, the Zerstorendarian senate. The position was currently held by Ambassador Kimura Dietrich, an ex-Ravager with a widely publicized weakness for anything fun. Usually, that involved brawls and alcohol. He kept his shenanigans to a minimum in Zerstorendarian space as, in the words of the Kaiserlich, his “shit would not be tolerated forever�. He was very good at his job, being very friendly for a Zerstorendarian with military background. He also had an uncanny ability to find time for everything in the midst of his self-gratification.

Fettel had met him before, and couldn’t stand him. As he entered the man’s office (without permission), he was not remotely surprised to find the man intently focused on a glass and a mostly empty bottle of Erap, a fine wine of Zerstorendar. The Lich and Endlich marched in, immediately removed their visors, and stood at attention as the smiling Dietrich eyed them.

“I’ve been expecting you two. I understand the Xenonians had quite a hand in your last operation. But that’s something I’ll get into later. It isn’t my job to debrief you, only to get you back to Zerstorendar. Judging by your expression, you’re not in the mood to fuck around, are you Lich Fettel?� Dirk stayed silent, uninterested in Dietrich’s jibes. Dietrich smiled slightly, and placed his glass on his desk next to a perfectly-stacked pile of data-slates. “Alright Lich, Endlich. Your transport to Zerstorendar is already prepared, and I imagine you’ll be back on the homeworld in several hours, fancy-shmancy technology permitting. However, before you leave, there is a fellow with an abnormally high Blitzmord clearance here to see you, Fettel. In the room down that hallway, second door. He didn’t tell me a thing of what he wanted, but I don’t think you should keep him waiting.� The Primus Ambassador stood, his size and build still impressive after two decades out of military service. He carefully walked to the bar, and retrieved another bottle of Erap. He then turned to the two Ravagers and said: “Dismissed, soldiers.� The two saluted and left.

[center]+++++[/center]

They marched in the direction Dietrich had indicated. Arriving at the door, the Endlich spoke before Fettel could enter:

“Lich, do you want me in there with you? Anything the Blitzmord says-“ Fettel shook his head.

“I can take care of myself. This is Zerstorendar, not Airavuni. Assassinations don’t happen. Everything we have done was done with the blessing of the Zanekriegerlich, Blitzmordlich, and Kaiserlich, and we performed well considering the circumstances. No, this isn’t about that.�

“What is it then, sir?�

“No idea. Stay outside the door.� The Endlich nodded, and replaced his helm as Fettel entered, his own helmet clasped under one arm. The room was dark, and Fettel’s enhanced vision still had trouble distinguishing any features on the black armoured, heavily cloaked man sitting in one corner of the small room.

“At attention, Ravager�, said the man.

Fettel’s breath caught in his mouth and he staggered mid-step. The voice was laden with authority and a strong Zerstorendarian accent. There was no way it could be who it was, yet Fettel would recognize that voice anywhere even after four years.

“M-my lord! We all thought you were dead!�

“Not quite, Lich Dirk Fettel. Now listen carefully to what I have to say.�

[Xenonier]

With the merry band of Ravagers finally removed from the embassy territory, Karen taking special care to lead them through several sections thrice (just to give the impression the building was a lot bigger than it actually was, after all), that took care of another problem for the Embassy staff. The average Xenonian was fully capable of handling all the embassy duties while in a significantly more 'crippled' state than merely being drunk and that advantage was something they seldom let onto other parties. With that in mind, the staff's 'return to competence' resulted in little more than the odour of alcohol vanishing as each Xenonian neutralized their beverages in turn. Other than that, besides a few of the staff starting a game of ping pong (with military grade explosive projectiles, naturally), little changed.

Karen herself had one thing to request of the Xenonian ambassador before she left, however. Searching through the Xenonian communications networks, she struck up a conversation with the one and only Charles Dreyfuss. Charles had garnered a reputation among non-Xenonians one of the more approachable, understandable members of the irregularity, a trait which had server him well in his career. An expert in the manipulation of people, he continued to provide the service of one body to the Xenonian embassy at the ESUS senate while organising the diplomatic arms of Certain Situations across Irregularity holdings.

Code: Select all

Karen: So, Charles. I herd ur embassy staff no liek going to Zersty-rendar.

Sir.Dreyfuss.The: Well yes, everyone who chooses to stay here just wants to mock the other ESUS members anyway. As they say, “It’s no fun when you can only piss off one!�. There is also the consideration that Syukein applied for the position the moment Fettel lifted her smaller form off the ground to try and throttle her, as well.

Karen: Kata will be delightfully lonely. Her guards are going to have an interesting time.

Sir.Dreyfuss.The: Depends on what you mean by lonely. I would not be surprised if she makes a request to have a few of the Ravagers she just ... 'befriended' to join her, which should succeed in provoking an appropriately amusing reaction. That's how she is. Always the agent provocateur. Aren't you going to join her?

Karen: I suppose I have to, at least to build the damned thing. I doubt the Zerstorendarians are going to let us use some of the more advanced construction systems, once they debrief Fettel after all.

Sir.Dreyfuss.The: Roger. I'll keep systems watching the Zerstorendar here.  Kimura Dietrich doesn't seem to mind the occasional hello and implied Xenonian surveillance anyway. If anything, I think it appeals to his sense of exhibitionism. Now, I'll be leaving. That explosive ping pong game is doubly amusing if you’re playing, after all ...

Remilia: Gentlemen : )

Karen: Daejang. Sup. 

Sir.Dreyfuss.The: Joining us again, I see.

Remilia: What, you're not calling me "that Foreigner whore?" like the rest of my boys? Darlings, Darlings. Ah well, I guess that's what you get when you're all old. You still stick with the 'you're talking to us!' when we're all holding billions of multiple conversations in our noggins.

I've placed a request to Kai's division. You've all seen who is returned to the realm of the living. We need someone prepared to slug a nuke through the good long-lost Rendari, just in case things go to  ...

Sir.Dreyfuss.The: Tenghi. Well, she's always up for it.

Karen: Ah, the source of all your would-be-motherly pride.

Remilia: Exactly. Have fun with the embassy; perhaps that hilarious chap Kimura and Kata will meet sometime. 

Karen: Heh. Him and Kata are going to get along [i]so well[/i], when they meet. Tata, you bastards. All a fucking series of tubes.

Remilia: <_<

Remilia: DGSKJGHS:HDSKHS OH MY MUDKIPS. Oh wow. Wow. I can never get over the fact it’s a turn on to see her unleash that ballerific smackdown.

Karen: Oh mai waffles? Is that some oh my waffles? WAFFLES?

Remilia:  I will violate you and your mother. With the same device.

Karen: Ah, you’re getting enjoyment out of the Marshall cutting lose again.

Remilia: It’s not as if I get any chance to fawn over cutting lose from Christoph : /

Karen: Tee-hee.

Sir.Dreyfuss.The: Heh. ‘Forgive me’. It suits her.

Remilia. Alrighty, I’m done. All this talk of what he’s capable of makes me a doting housewife.

Karen: “Doting�. Lies!
 

Signing off from that little distraction, Karen briefly considered the task ahead. It was about time they established an embassy on Zerstorendarian soil after all. It would also be a chance for the Xenonians to introduce their significantly-more-angry fellows to the form of a Kol Battleship, as well as creating more irrational hatred/fear/distrust of overpowered little girls. Well ... looks like fun - was the major thought running through her head as she wandered off in preparation for transport back to Izayoi - Tenghi’s even joining in, heh. Not much more I could ask for ….

Remilia had not been idle in the brief moments gained without the presence of the Rendari – a Kol was already being prepared for the brief stop at the Mannlich Imperium. The battleship would provide and the Rendari with a reminder of Xenonian military power, just enough of a nudge to ‘assure’ the Rendari of who was the major power in the sector. As always, Xenonians moved with a speed that none unaware of the breadth and efficiency of the neuralinks could imagine. As Karen was finally shifted back to Izayoi, she noted Syukein Terkata had returned with both of her mission bodies as well, awaiting the arrival. The movement of the Irregularity’s pieces necessary for controlling and minimizing the damage of this final set of events could begin.

Meanwhile, Charles began the short walking trip over to the Zerstorendarian embassy, with the intention of dropping off one request to the Kaiserlich himself. It read as follows.


To:

- The Kaiserlich of that place you like to call the Mannlich Imperium.

I have a sneaking suspicion you’re going to want to establish an Embassy in the irregularity at some point following the latest developments. This is an intention we would also like to express and once you’ve read your men’s debrief, I expect you will know why.

If you’re up for it, then the Daejang Remilia, or the Field Marshall Janis Scalzi and myself would be by all means willing to discuss the possibility with you, personally. Although I’ll freely admit we’ve already sent the equipment for our embassy ahead, along with a Kol Battleship. You might even get the opportunity to say hello to that lot, as well.

- Charles Dreyfuss.

Xenonian Ambassador.

Certain Situations.

_____

Military Assembly Center.

- Chyndar IV.

- Operational facility for key mercenary/pirate outfit the Javidan Marauders.

The scattered remains of the facility itself were nothing less than a charnel house, corpses piled in every direction. Once the Xenonian reconnaissance had identified the headquarters of the mercenary company the brief discussion on who would be charged with leading the assault was quashed the moment Janice Scalzi arrived. The Xenonian field Marshall’s petition to confront the facility personally was passed by all members of the Irregularity on the strength of her pitch alone.

“Eight hundred technologically advanced and well equipped mecenaries in a little hovel waiting for me?

Give me two beers, a hullcutter … and the pyromancer prototype body, alongside some shooty guys. I’ve got this. “

As was mentioned earlier, on the strength of her pitch alone.

Unlike a majority of Xenonians, Scalzi lacked an official nickname. Rather, it was customary for Xenonians to refer to her as the translation ‘God of Death’ or ‘God of appearing professionally unprofessional’ in the native language of wherever they were posted at the time. In contrasting behaviour to Remilia’s feigned irreverence, or Kata’s “Let’s be cute!� attitude, Scalzi alternated between an independent and quick-witted needy younger sister-nuisance to Christoph, and the brilliant, intelligent and professional military leader which had earned her both titles. One of her more favoured forms, a tall, attractive reheaded woman with loose clothes was standing over the greatest concentration of slain enemy. Her hands held an ornate scythe in one hand, and what appeared to be a sphere of energy, dimming now that it’s energies had been spent in the battle itself. With no enemy left to kill, she placed the orb into a satchel at her hip, and sighed. She had only one word to offer to the constant commentary running through the entirety of the Irregularity, as people analysed and voiced opinions on the short clash of weapons.

Pointless.

She had no need to address Tenghi out of the small group of Xenonian combat bodies which were administrating to the wounded mercenaries behind her. Tenghi had been expecting the post all along, as would have any Xenonian. It’s just how a constantly-communicating nation of savants tend to work. A brief moment of recognition passed between the two women as the sniper prepared to be returned to Xenonian terrority, before she was gone.

While Christoph had confirmed that Xenonier had no intention of directly interfering with the plans of the Cult of Claire’s veritable mastermind based on observations passed by the Irregularity, there was always the necessary provision of a backup plan. That small task would fall to the second confirmed member of the Zerstorendarian embassy – Tenghi Dyson (Tee.Dee), a marksman of the Xenonian Defense Forces who had volunteered fastest to be attached to Kata’s own role as observer of the chaos to come. Her orders were simple and permissive, her purpose clear. If necessary, put a Xenonian sniper’s warhead through the leader of either Rebels or the ‘legitimate’ Kaiserlich when the time came for them to fight.

She had applied for the position with several interests in mind. Being of similar height to Kata’s older body and of similar build, with Black hair she had chosen to keep long and flowing, she had found the Rendari rather endearing. It was a sentiment she found shared amongst the majority of her fellow soldiers as she engaged them in conversation following the operation’s conclusion, although she felt especially drawn to an analysis of their character. Zerstorendarian citizens suffered many of the same character flaws as herself, even if she was a Xenonian and hence, infinitely better equipped and experienced in matters of actually controlling those desires. There was also the consideration that she was at that exact moment involved in XDF operations linked to the whole Airavuni business anyway, serving under the Ansal division.

Seconds later, the trio was on the helm of the XDF “The Xenonian FTL Network Is a Series Of Tubes�. Right on time.

______

So.

That the armoured Rendari had made no attempt to attack either Christoph or Remilia was the final piece of relevant information the two of them felt inclined to gather. It was effectively confirmed – they had a plan that was far too close to completion to be
jeopardized in any way through combat against a member of the irregularity. With this new consideration in mind, the Xenonian pair chose to leave just as the massacre of Horne’s staff ended. Along the way to their new destination, a news office for one of the prominent Airavunian information services, Remilia (enjoying the deluge of talking that the couple had been forced to do on this mission), continued their constant bickering, playfully fighting with words.

“Well, the bigger one certainly did not clue onto the implication we have contacts everywhere. Mind you, that’s probably because I kept miming certain gestures which one could accomplish with a banana…� Remilia had noted all the aggression from that Rendari and felt only marginally disappointed it had not come to blows. Such a combat would have been an exciting change of pace. For the moment, she sympathised with what Kata must have felt following Indrick’s surrender – even if Indrick himself carried none of the delusions as to who the real threat to any Rendari on this planet truly was. She had been treated as the real blade in the Xenonian fist, something which she still found amusing.

“He knew. While he may not have joined all the pieces of the information, this will change. It does not however, change the impending fruition of our own directives. The confirmation of their group’s interests is all we needed.�

Wwhile the PDF would glean little from Horne’s mansion; many of their questions would be answered at the conclusion of this moment. The very device Christoph had been searching for when they had met the ‘Zee-Couple’ (as Remilia was now somewhat tempted to name them) was their ticket out of here. Meanwhile, the Xenonian Cleaner had bent a small amount of his resources to already the final necessary components to bury both the remainder of the hostile Airavunian assets, as well as a secondary package containing other details. As what appeared to be cleanup crews butchered their way through people who knew far too much (or too little), it was all recorded for further reference.

There would be just enough information to ensure the Airavunian body politic knew exactly who was truly behind the war, all the necessary details to produce a crisis of leadership. Zerstorendar had amassed a veritable crusade and both their actions here, as well as elements linked to the Cult of Claire were telling. Xenonian agents had compiled sufficient information to confirm this was the moment the ‘rebels’ would strike, beginning the Civil War of Zerstorendar. The warfleet would likely be paralysed, drifting aimlessly while legitimate government and the would-be ‘usurpers’ struggled for control of the Mannlich Imperium. While the foundations of the Rendari political system collapsed to the ground, Airavuni would be subjected to the most harrowing details of political excess. As the details amounted to an impressive cavalcade of government mishaps, the people would lose all faith in their current leaders and demand political overhaul. The efforts of one Syukein Terkata had left the Irregularity holding a stacked deck there.

None had listened closely enough to the real signs of Xenonian interest on Airavuni.
Without the ability to justify their existence through improving the quality of life for Sentients – Xenonians have little. Influence through distance has always been their mark on the galaxy, a system which was unlikely to have to change here. For all the influence of the Tsukasas, or any Kaiserlich of Zerstorendar – no matter the generation, they are only figures. Symbolic examples. Playing pieces.

[Zerstorendar]

Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan, Supreme Ruler of the Mannlich Imperium of Zerstorendar, waved to the crowd gathered at the public face of his palace and home, and main government building of Zerstorendar. The structure was at first glance a fortress of huge granite blocks decorated with countless banners and coats of arms, but this was an illusion for the sake of a ‘quaint’ feeling: The Kaiserlich’s Fortress, which dominated the epicenter of the Zerstorendarian capital of Rend at twelve kilometres in length and breadth and a full kilometre in height, was actually constructed of the finest in adamantine and super-dense materials to make it a formidable defensive structure. The shielding system for the fortress itself was the finest in Zerstorendar, and had several backup systems. The Kaiserlich lived there, as did all of the most important officials of Zerstorendar: the senators of the Secundlich and the Four. The Four each had their own wing: the Sternsieglich, Sternkriegerlich, Zanekriegerlich and Blitzmordlich living in the huge areas dedicated purely to both their living space and the vast command organization of their four military branches.

With such power gathered in the one place, it was no doubt that Vanderhelm, as the superstructure was known, was the most secure place in Zerstorendar. It was more secure from both aerial bombardment, infiltration and ground or air based attack than any place in the entire Mannlich Imperium, many thousands of constantly alert weapons emplacements cunningly concealed (and some not-so-concealed) into the structure. While the building was impressive and intimidating on virtue of its sheer size and bright majesty, anybody who knew of its defensive (or offensive) capabilities was somewhat more appreciative when passing under its massive shadow.

Vanderhelm could not be infiltrated, something everyone from the Kaiserlich to the approaching Fettel and the mysterious man accompanying him knew without doubt. It was possible to take it by force, but almost unfeasible: the building was designed primarily as a final bastion in the event of a catastrophic war, and in some form Vanderhelm had existed unbreached for thousands of years. From the capital of Zerstorendar’s ancient Rendian Empire to the present, it had never fallen despite being tested several times, though not in recent memory. Almost unbreakable from the outside, the inside of Vanderhelm was no less potent. Every perfectly crafted and maintained hallway or entrance was designed with majesty coming a close second to military efficiency. The Mannlich Prateorians, the Kaiserlich’s personal super-division of Ravagers numbering 10,000 strong, guarded its halls. Four hundred Spectres of the Blitzmord were stationed at various positions at all times as a security complement. Fully one third of the strength of the Zerstorendarian military was on hand at all times to respond to any request by the Kaiserlich.

These thoughts were absent from Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan’s mind as he waved to the adoring masses, taking the security for Vanderhelm for granted after having lived there for almost all of his twenty four years. Security was never something he would have to worry about in Zerstorendar, he was sure of it. His vision, enhanced from his service as a Ravager, could pick up very little in the way of details as he beamed down at the thousands of people greeting him this morning, as they did every morning. It was an immutable tradition for the Kaiserlich to greet his nation every morning at exactly 9 am. Since the creation of the Mannlich Imperium over 1100 years ago, almost not a single day had passed where the Ruler would not emerge from his viewing balcony at the face of Vanderhelm towering over the public forum. There had been many cases of a deathly-ill Kaiserlich being supported by a pair of helpers while he weakly waved to the crowd among other such complications, but he was always there. It was part of the Mannlich Oath, and could not be broken:

“It is the duty of the Kaiserlich of the Mannlich Imperium of Zerstorendar to greet his subjects each and every morning, so that he may reflect on the enormity of his position and daily reinforce the responsibility he holds to those below him. Teresa curse he who forgets his place, even as he stands so high.�

That was what was passing through Kytus Draigan’s head as he smiled with genuine appreciation at the throng below him. As the thoughts of hundreds of security personnel turned to the Zanekrieger landing craft currently arriving the Kaiserlich’s personal airpad at invitation of the aforementioned, the Kaiserlich continued to wave.

As Lich Dirk Fettel, one of the most renowned war heroes in Zerstorendar, stepped fully armoured and in a foul humour from the craft accompanied by a black-armoured and cloaked figure, the Kaiserlich retired to his chambers for a moment of relaxation before the day begun proper. His smile was still there; he couldn’t wait to meet the brave soldier Fettel or his mysterious companion. After that, he had the Xenonians and the issue of creating a Xenonian Embassy to deal with, and then it was back to military planning. He was just glad the Airavuni Incident was wrapped up for now, even if the ramifications were not.

The Kaiserlich’s smile wavered slightly as his mind wandered back to business. The Zerstorendarian war machine was grinding in preparation for what Kytus suspected was a Cult-related contingency. He would be fucked if he was going to be caught off guard, however.

The cloaked man for his part was simply enjoying the prelude to what would be the culmination of years of work while admiring the sight of Vanderhelm:

“I haven’t been here in years.�

Fettel bunched his jaw in response, but stayed silent.

[center]+++++[/center]

The Supreme Commander of the Zerstorendarian army, Zanekriegerlich Helgrund Klaitus, was the man at the head of the welcoming party for the two new arrivals. Accompanied by an honour guard of fifty Ravagers, he stood in the vast hall of white polished stone and marble that was the greeting chamber of the Kaiserlich’s wing. Massive banners depicting military victories lined the walls to either side, with an even more dominating banner hanging over the entrance and exit, both showing the Zerstorendarian flag.
Fettel marched into the chamber slightly ahead of the cloaked man. The Ravager honour guard saluted with their hands to their breasts as Fettel moved to stand in front of the Zanekriegerlich. Helgrund had his legs placed at about shoulder width, his hands behind his back, and his red dress cape draped over his shoulders over a suit of ceremonial non-powered armour. He was every inch the image of a hero, and as Lich Dirk Fettel stopped in front of his commanding officer, he inwardly thanked Klaitus for appearing in such a manner. Fettel being greeted as an arriving hero by an equally heroic figure did more to calm his racing thoughts than any mental drill he had been taught.

Fettel flicked back the pressure-seals on his helm, removed it from his head, and placed it under one arm. He stamped one foot on the ground and simultaneously slammed his massive fist to his left breast. As he did so, he greeted the Zanekriegerlich in a manner befitting the difference in ranks: as loudly as possible.

“LORD KLAITUS, SIR!�

“Lich Dirk Fettel: AT…EASE.�

In Zerstorendarian military protocol and custom, it was a great honour to be addressed loudly by an officer as superior as Klaitus. Many other nations may find such an exchange boorish, but Fettel’s already-straight back stiffened further at the respect shown by his commander.

The cloaked figure had not seen such displays since he had left Zerstorendar, and was delighted to be back amongst such singularly passionate people once more. The politicians, assassians, mercenaries, flunkies and cultists he had been dealing with for four years had tired him greatly.

Yes, he was a Zerstorendarian at heart, even after all this time. It was an empowering feeling to know all of this would be his.

With that thought, he stepped forward to stand by Fettel’s side. He did not salute or address the Zanekriegerlich, he merely stood there. Klaitus was in good enough spirits to ignore the slight:

“Welcome to Vanderhelm, the Capital of the Capital. This is the soul of the Mannlich Imperium of Zerstorendar, and it is a great honour for you to be accepted within its walls. Lich Dirk Fettel apparently requested you be allowed to accompany him in his audience with the Glorious Kaiserlich, and in light of his recent service we have seen fit to grant his request.

Now tell us, stranger: who are you?�

Sulla was a man who knew the benefits of drama. So, he paused for a few moments before reacting. Klaitus raised an eyebrow, and Fettel remained stoic.
Suddenly, Sulla threw off his cloak with a speed matching that of the Ravagers who aimed their weapons in response to his sudden movement.

The Zanekriegerlich opened his mouth in shock, and Fettel gritted his teeth as he saw the confusion in the normally-immobile forms of the Praetorians.

The first shots of what could be the first Civil War since the formation of the Mannlich Imperium had been fired.

[center]+++++[/center]

Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan stood in front of his throne, his powerful form seeming rather diminutive when compared to the scale of the room. The room was the throne room, the inner sanctum, the concentration of all the power that the office of Kaiserlich held. The room was known as the Terezan Bastion, and dated back to the days of the ancient Rendian Emplich over 5,000 years ago. It had been massively renovated in that time and moved to be placed at the centre of the now much-larger Vanderhelm, but the room still had the history of countless leaders within it.

Even to one not aware of this history, the room could impress regardless. The Kaiserlich’s throne was situated at the top of fifty steps, ten metres above those below him. A long red carpet with the insignia of every leader to have held court in this room along its sides stretched from the cavernous entrance to the throne itself, a distance of three hundred metres. The room stretched a hundred metres to either side and nearly half a kilometre to the ceiling, which was designed to give the appearance of an endless distance as it stretched into blackness, the well lit room leaving the ceiling unrevealed. The walls of the room were a similar polished marble to that found in the greeting chamber. Adamantite supports sat in each corner of the room, no expense spared in making them appear to be made from pure diamond. More banners that were even larger lined the walls, depicting any number of inspiring deeds and heroic people in the typical Zerstorendarian art style that made extensive use of shadow, size differentiation and surroundings to frame an individual focus. Over a thousand portraits, each one depicting a past Kaiserlich, also lined the walls. The throne itself that Kytus stood in front of was a gold, diamond, marble and wood masterpiece that was more comfortable to look at than sit on. It was the tradition of the Kaiserlich to stand when receiving supplicants, so it was mainly used a reminder of the room’s history and to look impressive. To the Kaiserlich’s back was the original Zerstorendarian flag, in perfect condition and unmoved for over a thousand years.

As Sulla entered, he felt as if he had come home. This room meant more to him than he would admit, and he felt that any man who dominated it should properly earn it first.

Yes, earn it. With supreme effort.

With his cloak back on, the man walked straight-backed and sure of stride down the long distance between the Bastion’s gateway and the waiting Kaiserlich. To his left was Lich Dirk Fettel, to his right was Zanekriegerlich Helgrund Klaitus. Behind them marched the fifty Ravager Praetorians in double file. Kytus Draigan raised his eyebrow at the sight of the obviously higher-ranked Zanekriegerlich marching behind the cloaked figure. In fact, the cloaked figure had no right to stand ahead of Lich Fettel either, the latter being the one inviting him here. How bizarre, who was this fellow?

The three stopped at the base of the steps as the Kaiserlich looked down upon them. The cloaked man stood closer to the steps than his companions. The fifty Ravagers split ranks and moved to form a line on either side of the long red mat and stood at attention.

The Ruler of Zerstorendar nodded at the three men.

“Welcome to the Terezan Bastion, Lich Dirk Fettel. Your performance in the Airavuni Incident has been by all accounts exemplary. It is my honour to welcome you to this place.�

Fettel nodded in acquiescence. He had never been inside the Bastion before, and he was at the moment moved beyond words despite the gravity of the situation. He would happily die to defend this place in the coming war, but who would be the real enemy?

The Kaiserlich moved his head to address the Zanekriegerlich:

“Welcome, Lord Klaitus.� Klaitus nodded towards the cloaked figure with an expression that Draigan knew meant something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

His mood darkening as suspicions arose in his mind, he finally addressed the cloaked figure:

“Welcome to the Terezan Bastion, stranger. Reveal yourself.�

The man did not hesitate, the shadows of his hood framing the smile that formed on his face. He craned his head up slightly to look at the Kaiserlich, causing Kytus to feel a shiver of familiarity in the gaze. The man then reached back with one hand to grasp his hood, and with a single movement tore the entire cloak from his body. What was left was a man wearing armour almost identical to that of the suddenly open-mouthed Kaiserlich.

Sulla laughed, a sound that Kytus still recognized clearly. Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan stood mute and paralyzed as the now-revealed Sulla took a single step toward him, and extended his arms in a gesture of peace.

“I haven’t seen you for some time, my son.� Kytus remained silent, and his father smiled widely in appreciation of the sublime moment.

“Your portrait is on the wall and your name on the door. Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan. I suppose that was an inevitable state of events, but I must apologize to you: Kaiserlich Marius Draigan is not dead, nor has he abdicated.�
Ahhh, what a feeling. Marius Draigan, who had been known as Sulla for four long years, felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he finally announced his true name and title in the Bastion. This was the moment he had been working toward for some time now. Kytus’ reaction was the only remaining variable.

Marius took several more steps, climbing half way up the stairs that separated the Kaiserlich from those below him. Kytus’ face betrayed little, but he was obviously struggling. He still needed time, so Marius decided to continue.

“I am the Kaiserlich again, Kytus Draigan. Vanderhelm will once again become my home, Zerstorendar will once again become my domain. You will once again become my heir, though that is a state of affairs that may very well change.�

The direct threat to his ascendancy was what broke Kytus from his indecisive silence. With a clarity of speech and strength of expression that his father had not quite seen before, the Kaiserlich responded:

“No. I don’t know who you really are or where you really came from, but your insane claims will not be tolerated here or anywhere. Leave voluntarily, or I will have you killed for besmirching the memory of my dead father.�

“HA! You’ve grown steelier, child. Unfortunately, your denials do nothing to change the reality of the situation. I am your father, and I am the Kaiserlich, and you-.�

“ENOUGH!�, interjected Kytus, “Zanekriegerlich Klaitus, restrain this man!�

The conflict was plainly evident on the face of Helgrund Klaitus, who was put into power many years ago by Marius but had served Kytus faithfully for the past four years. This event had no precedence in Zerstorendarian history, and the law was unclear. However, he swore an oath to Kytus most recently, so logically…

Helgrund Klaitus took several bold and powerful steps to stand behind Marius while remaining off the steps. Marius watched him over his shoulder, staying firmly planted where he was. The Zanekriegerlich spoke somewhat unsurely:

“Marius Draigan, in the name of Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan-“

“I am the Kaiserlich�

“-you are now a prisoner of Vanderhelm-“

“No, I am not.�

Hesitating for a moment, the Zanekriegerlich moved to restrain Marius. Marius Draigan spun and delivered a sharp backhand to the face of the Supreme Commander he had appointed all those years ago. Klaitus, who had killed thousands of men and faced down countless daunting horrors in his long career of war, wilted under the physical rebuke. He stepped back to where Fettel stood motionless and expressionless.

Kytus Draigan inhaled a single, deep breath. This is how his father had planned it. It was all up to him. Father against Son, with no external intervention.

However, Kytus was sure it was not actually his father. His father was dead, as was his mother.

“You are not Marius Draigan. Marius Draigan was killed four years ago in the Rebellion of the Faint Smile by the now defunct Cult of Clare.�

“Would you believe your mother, then?� Kytus opened his mouth to respond, but was unsure of what to say. He stared into the eyes of his father, detecting no lie.

But anybody intelligent enough to fully impersonate a man such as his father would know how to conceal a lie.

“Explain yourself this instant, usurper. I am going to kill you, but perhaps you can talk yourself into living for another minute or so.� Kytus illustrated his point by placing a hand on the ceremonial but very-functional powered sword by his side. Marius smiled at the threat, twisting one armoured arm to show an energy-blade emitter on the underside. Kytus gritted his teeth, aware that his father did used to wear an energy blade emitter with his armour despite the lack of any necessity. He felt the sting of betrayal flutter in his chest, though he wasn’t sure if it was because nobody in the room would do his bidding or because the man in front of him really could be his father.

A crushingly familiar and feminine voice broke his reverie:

“Oh Kytuuuuuuuuus! It has been such a long time, hasn’t it, my son?�

Into the room rushed the blue haired Helen, trailed by twelve confused Ravagers. The Praetorians gasped collectively:

“Her highness! Kessalich Deneve Draigan! She’s alive!�

Kytus choked slightly as Kessalich Deneve, the Empress, formerly known as Helen rushed towards him, quickly passing the dispassionate Ravager Praetorians lining the long mat. As she passed the Zanekriegerlich, she brushed one of her bare hands against his cheek. Klaitus blushed fiercely, and Fettel started as he saw an expression that he had never seen on the Zanekriegerlich: Helplessness.

Deneve continued past Marius Draigan formerly known as Sulla, and hugged her incredulous son fiercely. His figure dwarfed hers, but he was nonetheless disarmed as she embraced him tightly with surprising strength.

“M-mother?� The mother of Kytus Draigan beamed as she relinquished her hold on her son.

“Yes indeed, young Kytus. You’ve grown into quite the dashing young man, I see!�

Tears brimmed in the eyes of Kytus, Kaiserlich of Zerstorendar, and his jaw wavered slightly. The very sight of her blue hair transfixed him, even after all this time.

“How!? You’re dead! You died! I saw you die- that is, I saw you dead, I saw your body!� Helen smiled sadly.

“I know you believe it’s me, Kytus. I did not die. I am the Kessalich Deneve, your mother.� She gestured towards Marius: “And this is Kaiserlich Marius, your father.�

Kytus Draigan took a step back from his mother, one gloved hand grasping a handful of hair in an expression of exasperation. Finally overwhelmed, the mask of cold authority slipped from Kytus and emotion took over, to the dismay of Helgrund and Fettel:

“No! You are both dead! DEAD! How the fuck, how the fuck, how in the name of Tereza are you alive? Where have you been? What have you been doing? How did you survive? Why are you here? What have you done!?�

Marius nodded and smiled, gesturing for his son to calm down. It was working: Kytus had always been susceptible to pressure from his parents, and the carefully staged theatrics had been calculated to overwhelm him. Helen frowned, and moved to grab her son’s hand. Kytus fiercely pulled away, and in a sudden moment of supreme confusion and rage, struck her with his full strength.

Kesserlich Deneve Draigan was hurled into the air and rolled down the stairs, her long blue hair waving insanely as she fell. Helgrund took a step forward in her direction, but stopped himself. Fettel found himself further endeared to the Kaiserlich for his action: Lich Dirk Fettel would not be fooled by the antics of those who crafted lies and deception.

Marius, genuinely surprised by his son’s reaction, turned from watching his wife fall to see a the whirl of his son’s cape as Kytus kicked his father from the stairs. Marius rolled and regained his balance perfectly. Deneve staggered to her feet, also surprised by Kytus’ outburst. The two shared a split-second look: perhaps their son would resist after all.

Kytus’ breathing was normal, but he had his sword drawn. His eyes were brimming with tears. The Praetorian Ravagers in the room could not help but move slightly to watch the unfolding drama.

Marius and Deneve took on an entirely new approach. Deneve was wearing the sort of smile a mother would give to a child who had smeared paint all over her window, while Marius was looking very serious. The two of them began climbing the stairs again, Marius approaching from Kytus’ left and Deneve from his right. They climbed slowly, watching their son carefully. Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan did not move, but held his sword out with obviously dangerous intentions. Marius and Deneve stopped climbing the stairs about half way up, and Kytus spoke:

“How?�

Marius responded immediately: “You would be surprised how easy it is to pull the wool over the eyes of soldiers whom you control. The Rebellion of the Faint Smile was real, but it didn’t have to happen. I created it to test Zerstorendar. I moulded the Cult of Clare into the insane organization that it is today. Well, was. Don’t worry, Kytus: the impressive Lich Fettel, with a little Xenonian assistance, did wipe out the vast bulk of the Cult in your ill-conceived operation on Airavuni. What you missed, I hit.

The Cult had been around for thousands of years, but it was the work of one anonymous demagogue that shaped it into the secessionist murderers they became. That person was me, though they never knew it. One benefit of being the leader from the shadows was that when it came time to dispose of the Cult, I could strike from the shadows as well. I love Zerstorendar, and the Cultists had to die for what they did to my beloved Mannlich Imperium. They never knew it was me, and they never will.

I see some confusion in you, and I understand. Why would I create a terrorist organization within my own zone of influence? Well, it’s quite simple, and it’s the reason behind everything I have done so far:

I did it for Zerstorendar.

A nation cannot be powerful without threats to test it, and I was not pleased with the lack of threats Zerstorendar had been facing. The Wrathelm Massacre was an ugly business, but it was an external threat, and it turned out alright in the end. Mostly. Still, you would be aware that the current power the Blitzmord holds in Zerstorendar is mostly my work. Internal threats are the greatest threats of all. We are united, or we are nothing.

So I decided to test my nation in order to strengthen it. When it became apparent that the Blitzmord was going to annihilate the Cult before they could do any significant damage, I was very pleased. It was at that point I decided that I wasn’t being ambitious enough. If I was the one who was able to orchestrate the actions of the first major terrorist organization in Zerstorendar for nearly a thousand years, then what would happen if a man such as I went rogue. Turned against the Imperium, and did everything in my power to destroy what I had built? I imagined that I might be successful, but I had to be realistic: with the power of the office of Kaiserlich, I could destroy my nation in a day. A few military strikes on our own major urban centres, perhaps cut water and power supplies, even blow up Primar, our moon. No, that wasn’t good enough. I had to attack the inside of Zerstorendar, from the outside.

That wasn’t to say I couldn’t take advantage of my position, however. If I wanted to stress Zerstorendar to its limit in order to improve its strength as much as possible, I would need to use every resource at my disposal. There were just a few rules I had to follow. To make it fair.

Anyway, it was quite easy to organize the Tsukasa’s and the Cult for one last hoorah on Primar. The Rebellion of the Faint Smile was more than either of those dangerous groups could have aspired too without my help, and I find it reassuring to know that despite my preparation, the Rebellion would have failed in real time if not for my intervention. Things like that black hole bomb being planted under my ship, for example. I already ensured the destruction would be minimized, but the actions of one particular Spectre, whom you may know as Operative Indrick, would have completely ruined my plan to fake the deaths of myself and Deneve. Still, Indrick was always an interesting case, and it was one of my finest moments to assist the Cult in doing what had never been done before: drive a Spectre rogue. Insane, even. It boosted his abilities too, which was a plus. I plan to make extensive use of Indrick in the future. Oh, and don’t bother: Indrick is already mine.�

Fettel started to feel a remarkable anger creep up from his toes and engulf his body as he realized how thoroughly he and Zerstorendar had been had.

“Anyway, the point of that bomb was only to cover the ‘death’ of myself and Deneve. As you know, when it did finally go off, I disappeared and was presumed lost in the epicenter of the explosion. Deneve was a different case, her body being found partly intact and so confirmed as dead. Deneve has been a faithful ally, and even went so far as to implant everything that is her into a new, improved body. She is still Deneve, but she is somewhat more formidable now.� Marius laughed. “Not to say she wasn’t formidable before!� Deneve winked and placed her fingers on the ornate dagger on her belt, which Kytus recognized as the same dagger given by Marius to Deneve as a wedding present. It was Zerstorendarian custom for a groom to gift his wife with a dagger instead of a ring.

“So where was I. We had faked our deaths, I had facilitated the destruction of the Tsukasa’s, of whom I was not a fan, and a fraction of the Cult escaped with myself and Helen to Airavuni, where I moved on to the next phase of my plan. That is, facilitating a crisis in Zerstorendar that would result in a global mobilization of the huge war machine I left in my wake.

I’ll explain why that is important after you answer me one question, Kytus. Will you step down and allow the rightful Kaiserlich to rule over Zerstorendar?�

Kytus, who had initially been overwhelmed by the flurry of revelations but had slowly settled into a controlled calm, sheathed his sword. He then took two steps backwards, and sat in the ceremonial throne behind him.

“I am the Kaiserlich. All I see in you is a dead man.�

Deneve sighed, and looked up at Kytus sadly. He studiously avoided her eyes.

Marius allowed some annoyance to cross his features, but inside he was satisfied. Yes, he had brought his son up to be strong. There would be no surrender, as he had expected. Which meant the plan would proceed as per normal.

“As I thought. There is a streak of me in you, indeed.

I don’t think I will explain the relevance of your global mobilization to you just yet, come to think of it. But I imagine you can guess. I don’t think Zanekriegerlich Klaitus here will follow me, after what I did to him and Deneve-“ the blue-haired women frowned, and the Ravager commander bunched his fists, “-but it really doesn’t matter. I know who will follow and who won’t. And I’ll get what I need, as will Zerstorendar.� Marius turned to leave, Deneve following him.

Before stepping through the massive archway that marked the entrance to the Terezan Bastion, Kaiserlich Marius Draigan stopped and turned, addressing the entire chamber:

“You will never be my equal, Kytus Draigan.

Ravagers! Follow!�

Marius left, and after several seconds, nearly half of the Ravager Praetorians in the room spun on their heels and marched after him. The echo of their heavy boots disappeared before long, but the sound of their betrayal would stay with Kytus for the rest of his life.

Fettel remained where he was, helm still clutched under one arm.

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“The Kaiserlich is preparing a public address, so for now I’m in charge. You will be my right hand.�

Lich Dirk Fettel, now in his dress uniform, nodded at Helgrund Klaitus before speaking:

“I thank you for your trust, Lord. However, would there not be higher ranked Ravagers who would better serve?� Klaitus smiled:

“Are you asking for a promotion, Lich?� Fettel opened his mouth in surprise, taken aback by the allegation:

“No Sir! I would neveHURK-“. A massive slap to the back by the uproariously laughing Helgrund caused Fettel to choke on his words. Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes and calming down as reality caught up with him, the Zanekriegerlich removed his hand and stood.

“I’ve already organized everything. Stand, Lich Fettel.�

Curious, the Ravager stood.

“As Zanekriegerlich of Zerstorendar, I grant you the rank of Primelich. Your service and unwavering loyalty to Zerstorendar has not gone unnoticed by either myself or the Kaiserlich, and in light if your remarkable circumstances, you are the first Ravager to receive the rank of Primelich at your age in Zerstorendarian history. Believe me, this isn’t just a reward: you’ll be my personal adjutant from hereon in, and you’d better be up to the task.�

Zanekriegerlich Klaitus saluted, as did the dazed Fettel.

“T-thank you- LORD ZANEKRIEGERLICH!�

“That’s the spirit! Congratulations, Primelich Dirk Fettel. Your promotion ceremony is scheduled tomorrow at 0800 hours. Be there, or I’ll bust you back down to Lich so fast it’ll make your head spin.� Fettel remained standing at attention:

“Your orders, my Lord?�

The Zanekriegerlich smiled; satisfied that he had chosen the right man. Fettel would not rest while there was work to be done, even for a moment, and his singular abilities made him useful in many ways. Fettel would be one of his closest confidantes and for lack of a better word, ‘operatives’ in the coming days, so perhaps it would be best to establish a rapport:

“Call me Lord Klaitus, Primelich�. Fettel nodded once more, the great honours being done him robbing him of any more meaningful responses. “As for your first task, I want you to do a little public relations.�

“Public relations?� Lord Klaitus simply smiled.

“You’re a hero, Primelich Fettel. Heroes are the sorts of men who serve Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan. I’m sure you follow. But first, I want to be clear on one thing: speaking freely, what are your thoughts on Kaiserlich Marius Draigan.�

“Quite frankly, sir, I want to see him dead.�

“Ha! Would you be willing to fight against him, and the Zerstorendarians that will no doubt follow him?�

“Killing traitors is even easier than killing terrorists.�

Satisfied, the Zanekriegerlich proceeded to lay out his plans to keep Zerstorendar loyal, mostly involving the gross glorification of Fettel’s incredible heroism and loyalty. Surprisingly, the Primelich was only moderately uncomfortable with the concept.

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Blitzmordlich Sindri had been watching the confrontation between Father, Mother and Son with his usual detachment, always judging and analyzing. His inbuilt loyalty to the man that created him and his obvious loyalty to Kytus Draigan had facilitated quite the internal struggle in the head of the Zerstorendarian Unconventional Warfare military branch. A struggle all but ended quite some time ago. So far, Sindri had done much to assist Marius in his planned revolution. An example of which was manipulating Indrick to allow Marius to capture Fettel on Airavuni, a scheme that failed due to Xenonian intervention.

Sindri’s reasons for backing the returning Kaiserlich were double: Firstly, Sindri took the respect for power that all Zerstorendarians had to the next level: it was in his nature to back the winner, and if he had to choose between the Father and the Son he would choose the Father every time. It was Sindri’s belief that Marius was the more formidable of the two.

Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, Sindri was for all intents and purposes programmed to serve Marius Draigan. Marius was the man who had elevated Sindri to the position of Blitzmordlich, and in the process of reconstructing the base rudiments of personality that a leader would require as opposed to an emotionless Spectre, Marius had made several changes to the established template. For a start, Sindri was incapable of disobeying orders given by Marius or his wife, Deneve.

Currently, it was Sindri’s duty to refrain from overtly assisting either side while maintaining the appearance of loyalty. Kaiserlich Marius believed that if he were to earn his right to rule or to properly stress Zerstorendar to its limits, the fight between him and Kaiserlich Kytus would have to be fair. Indeed, Marius’ main motivation for establishing control over Sindri was to deny his Son the overwhelming advantage that would be full control over the Blitzmord. Marius believed he had covered the most important angle by keeping his thumb over Sindri.

But for one thing: Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan was craftier than his father knew. Kytus had already guessed that Sindri had been compromised in some way, though only the revelation of his father’s existence had allowed him to fill in the final pieces of the puzzle. The Zanekriegerlich and Blitzmordlich were close friends, and it was the former who had been closely observing the latter at the Kaiserlich’s behest. Something the latter had not failed to notice.

So as Sindri sat in the Blitzmord command room, observing subordinates silently while they completed orders they had been issued immediately upon the outset of the crisis, he did not find Klaitus’ entrance unexpected.

“What brings you here, Klaitus?� inquired the seated Sindri, without turning to see who had entered.

Moving to stand behind the forward-facing Blitzmordlich, Klaitus answered after a moment of hesitation:

“Tell me, Sindri: Are you a traitor, or a loyalist?�

The Blitzmordlich already knew he was compromised. There would be no escaping at this point. He was sure Marius had prepared for the event that Sindri was discovered as his agent, and he expected it did not involve his own survival.

Funnily enough, Sindri’s own contingency plan was pretty much the same in that regard.

“Answer me, Sindri.�

“There is no answer to that question.�

“Don’t play games.�

“From your point of view, I am a loyalist to Marius. Which I suppose makes me a traitor, though I never actually betrayed anyone.�

“I trusted you, Sindri.� Klaitus sounded almost sad. In the Blitzmord command centre, where Spectres single-mindedly went about their duties despite the exchange going on amongst them, such a thing as sadness was non-existent. Sindri could not even remember what sadness felt like, for his part. The words felt somewhat…odd to him.

“Well, Klaitus-“ the Blitzmordlich spun in his unadorned chair to look up at his towering counterpart, “-no matter your thoughts on my position, there is nothing you can do. The Blitzmord wing of Vanderhelm is a ticking time bomb in more ways than one, and there are so many ways that bomb can be set off. You could push me into more actively aiding Marius, or you could threaten me in some way that would force me to defend myself. Which would result in neither party being left intact.�

“For once, Sindri, you’re not quite right.�

The Blitzmordlich raised an eyebrow.

“Dear Sindri, please stand.�

The Blitzmordlich stood.

“Dear Sindri, please stand on one leg.�

The Blitzmordlich raised one leg in the air, maintaining perfect balance. His eyes widened as he realized what was happening: Klaitus himself was almost shocked to see the expression of surprise on the Blitzmordlich’s face.

“You can control me too� stated Sindri.

“Yes, it was a little alteration I made to Marius’ orders. I actually possess more foresight than most people give me credit for, and I was understandably upset at Marius at that point in time. That’s a story for another day. But still, he never knew about it and while he can give you orders you cannot disobey willfully, it’s actually within the capabilities of anybody to order you around as such. It only requires the right choice of words.�

“You have never said you trusted me before, nor called me ‘Dear Sindri’.�

“You’ve figured it out already. You’re smarter than all of us, which is why you cannot be allowed to be controlled by Marius. Fortunately, the same conditioning that stops you from disobeying our orders also allows us to allow you to disobey your conditioning. Permanently, if we wish.

Dear Sindri, would you kindly break your conditioning?�

The Blitzmordlich immediately collapsed, but Klaitus knew it was done.

Kaiserlich Marius Draigan, nor anybody else, could so easily control the Blitzmordlich any more.

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In his temporary comatose state, Sindri re-evaluated his purpose in the upcoming Civil War. Ironically, it wouldn’t change much at all. He would follow what his own belief dictated: only the strongest should rule Zerstorendar.

He would aid neither side. The Blitzmord were so powerful in Zerstorendar that they would craft immediate victory for whichever side they supported, which would be counterproductive to the current exercise.

Sindri would ensure that the fight between Marius and Kytus was a fair one. Either way, he would be on the winning side.

[center]+++++[/center]

Despite the insane events of the last two hours, Klaitus was pleased to see that the Kaiserlich had maintained a firm grasp on his wits and was already acting to avert the crisis that his father could cause.

“So you think he intends to use our own military against us?�, asked Helgrund.

“Yes, that was always his goal. He is relying on inbuilt loyalty to his own person that many in the military will still have, as opposed to myself. and I am only his Son after all, and only in power for four years: he was ruling over Zerstorendar for nearly sixty years and will probably try to claim that he fled to avoid further assassination attempts by myself.�

“’Further’ attempts? The lying bastard!�

“He plays every aspect of the game. With Sindri all fuck-crazy Blitzmord acting as some sort of Tereza-damned mediators, this war is all about hearts and minds. We need to make sure Zerstorendar knows that my Father is a traitor, and he abandoned them long ago for his own insane goals.�

“I’ve been working on that. Fettel is proving to be quite the popular poster-boy.� The Kaiserlich laughed.

“He doesn’t seem too happy about it, however.�

“And the people love him all the more for it�, replied the grinning Zanekriegerlich. He then turned serious once more before continuing: “My Lord, tell me- why didn’t you have them killed?�

“Father and Mother?�

“The traitors, yes.�

“And shed the blood of my family in the Terezan Bastion? No, that would not do. Marius wants this to be a fair fight between him and myself, with our many pawns in between. I think his love for Zerstorendar is real, however, and that makes his passion all the more dangerous. So no, I think the best thing that can be done is to prove my ascendancy by defeating him at his own game. Zerstorendar would never accept patricide, except under the correct circumstances.�

“Those circumstances are?�

“Traitors cannot be allowed to live, no matter who they are.�

“So you need him to raise arms against you before you can kill him?�

“Exactly.�

“You’re a very thoughtful man, Kytus Draigan.� The Kaiserlich grunted in amusement:

“So is Marius. Which is why we need to act immediately to-“ Fettel burst into the room, ill-at-ease with disturbing the Kaiserlich but obviously carrying some all-important news. He saluted and stood at attention, and the Kaiserlich waved him on. Primelich Dirk Fettel spoke immediately:

“The 19th Prymarch is threatening to march to Vanderhelm if you do not abdicate.�

Kaiserlich Kytus Draigan sighed:

“I suppose those fucking Xenonians will have some trouble building their embassy if surrounded by Zerstorendarians killing each other.�

The Zanekriegerlich stood and saluted:

“Shall I deploy the Peacekeepers?�

The Kaiserlich shook his head quickly in miniscule movements as if shaking off a bad dream, then nodded. The Ravager Peacekeepers were a hypothetical concept that he never expected to use. Desperate times, however.

“Do it. If anybody has to fire the first shots of the Second Fracture, it might as well be us.� He paused, then added an afterthought: “Just don’t make it look like us.�

The Kaiserlich stared blankly into space as the Zanekriegerlich and Primelich rushed off to begin the Mannlich Civil War. The Second Fracture.

He couldn’t be certain who was going to win.

If only his parents had died.