Garta Yttria smiled at what he was seeing. There was a child, an infant really, of his own design. He had spent several years and immense portion of his wealth to make this tool, a living creation that would garner him immense wealth in the future. Wealth, he had always felt, was the most obvious key to what he really wanted: power.
She had been painstakingly crafted at every level, to do one thing: collect intelligence. Her brain had been specifically constructed to make intuitive leaps and to store massive quantities of personal data. Her core personality had been wired to actively seek information. She was going to be his key to power. He could destroy his competitors, access thier secrets, and enhance his own status. In a few years, it would all be worth it. He simply had to keep her origins a secret. This particular operation was not remotely legal. The scientists involved were being compensated accordingly.
The head of the project, Dr. Arnis Ghrayson, a slim man of roughly forty years and slightly graying at the temples, turned to Garta. He gestured to the child being held in a small transparent incubator. "You should probably give her a name."
Garta considered this for a moment. It hadn't ocurred to him that he should name it. What was a good name for a girl? He only knew one woman, really. He had been serviced, sexually, many times, but names were trivial. Still....
"Leela." The prostitute who had made him a man back when he was only 17.
Dr. Ghrayson nodded. "Leela Yttria."
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Leela: Aftermath
Leela sat alone by the fire at the isolated cove away from Cerra Manor. Her eyes tried desperately to pierce the flames and perhaps, therein, quiet her soul.
She had had another nightmare, the trauma of her recent abduction and brutal treatment still haunting her nightly. Worst of all, at the end of each horrific dream, there he was. Her savior, her white knight, her blood-soaked hero.
He had cried to see her as she was then. She thought maybe his love for her was finally enough. Then she saw Ry and Shalee on the Terrace with Tiger, and her heart fell apart again. She only barely maintained her dignity. She had rushed down to this cove and cried until her eyes were dry and she couldn't cry anymore.
What could she do? Would she ever stop loving this man who repeatedly selflessly risked his life to save her? How could she? She owed him everything she was.
Leela buried her face in her knees, the tears returning.
She had had another nightmare, the trauma of her recent abduction and brutal treatment still haunting her nightly. Worst of all, at the end of each horrific dream, there he was. Her savior, her white knight, her blood-soaked hero.
He had cried to see her as she was then. She thought maybe his love for her was finally enough. Then she saw Ry and Shalee on the Terrace with Tiger, and her heart fell apart again. She only barely maintained her dignity. She had rushed down to this cove and cried until her eyes were dry and she couldn't cry anymore.
What could she do? Would she ever stop loving this man who repeatedly selflessly risked his life to save her? How could she? She owed him everything she was.
Leela buried her face in her knees, the tears returning.
OOC 2
So, in standard fashion, I make a statement and then the universe decides to show me how full of shit I am.
My last OOC post remarked on the state of RP, and I made comments to the effect that Eve RP had passed its golden age. While I still feel this is true, I had no clue I was in for some the most intense and enjoyable RP I have so far ever had. Life is like that sometimes. So thanks go out to Tigerfish and Shalee for inadvertently teaching me that RP is alive and strong.
That brings me to the next thing. RP makes for a rich and rewarding game experience beyond just core gameplay. For me, it started as something to do when no fleets were up. I fumbled around with Ryven in casual RP discussions while writing this blog, trying to ascertain just who the hell he is. Somewhere along the way, he stopped being under my control. I no longer pen his fate. He does it and then I write about it. He gained life somewhere along the way. RP suddenly became a whole lot more.
So, now, I have this character that I sympathize with or am disgusted with or triumph with on a regular basis. Now I RP during fleets.
I think somewhere in the history of online gaming, RP got a bit of a "nerds among nerds" connotation, so a lot of folks aren't willing to give it a shot. I imagine none of them read this blog. But, if they happen upon it via google happenstance, give it a shot. It really grows on you.
To the eve RP community: thank you for being patient, friendly, and genuinely helpful. You guys make it easy to get into.
My last OOC post remarked on the state of RP, and I made comments to the effect that Eve RP had passed its golden age. While I still feel this is true, I had no clue I was in for some the most intense and enjoyable RP I have so far ever had. Life is like that sometimes. So thanks go out to Tigerfish and Shalee for inadvertently teaching me that RP is alive and strong.
That brings me to the next thing. RP makes for a rich and rewarding game experience beyond just core gameplay. For me, it started as something to do when no fleets were up. I fumbled around with Ryven in casual RP discussions while writing this blog, trying to ascertain just who the hell he is. Somewhere along the way, he stopped being under my control. I no longer pen his fate. He does it and then I write about it. He gained life somewhere along the way. RP suddenly became a whole lot more.
So, now, I have this character that I sympathize with or am disgusted with or triumph with on a regular basis. Now I RP during fleets.
I think somewhere in the history of online gaming, RP got a bit of a "nerds among nerds" connotation, so a lot of folks aren't willing to give it a shot. I imagine none of them read this blog. But, if they happen upon it via google happenstance, give it a shot. It really grows on you.
To the eve RP community: thank you for being patient, friendly, and genuinely helpful. You guys make it easy to get into.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Shining Armor, Part VIII: Query Closed
8-1 YC114 1920
Geminate Region
HKYW-T System
Planet VII Moon 9
Ryven waited for his quarry to awaken. He had snuck into the elusive Query's secluded safehouse on this quiet moon in an off-the-beaten-path system in Geminate. He had taken him unawares, strangely enough, largely because the Query's best defense was the fact his identity was unknown and his location remote. However, Ryven knew both his identity and location, thanks to Leela. What a bombshell that had been. Both had taken a day to recover before either had spoken to each other.
She had come to his quarters, and he had let her in. Both seemed embarassed, a meekness worn by both of them, ashamed to have the other see them the way they had both been in Ibura. They both shifted awkwardly before Leela broke the silence.
"I wanted to see you. To, well, to thank you." She said, her eyes meeting his. She seemed so very young sometimes, and yet, she had suffered so much. He loved her still, in a way only he could. She knew it as well. He wanted to reach out and hold her close to him. To protect her. To always protect her. But, he had failed.
"Thank me?" He looked baffled. "Leela. You shouldn't thank me. I should've protected you. I should've kept you safe! Instead, I ran off, charging at shadows while they..." He choked on his words. The memory of her chained in agony, defiled and abused still too fresh in his mind. His face was red, tears streaming down from his eyes and leaving trails on his cheeks, glistening.
"Ry, when are you ever going to learn?" She spoke softly, her own eyes filled with tears. "It isn't always your fault." She reached up and touched his cheek, her eyes soft, pleading with him to forgive himself. But, he couldn't. He never would.
He broke the contact, turning around to regain his composure. He spoke, an edge of steel in his voice. "It's not over yet. I have to find him, and I have to kill him."
Leela nodded silently from behind him. "That's not hard."
Ryven shook his head, frustrated. "He's a ghost. No trail. I don't even know who to look for. Everyone knows him only as Query."
"Everyone except me." She corrected him. "I should. He's my brother."
Ryven turned around, his face a look of surprise and confusion. "Brother? What the fuck?"
Leela nodded, her eyes downcast. "My father had him created. Similar to the manner in which he engineered me, but with much more intensive programming at a genetic level. He was designed at birth to be a perfect servant, where I was always much more willful. I am a year or two older than he is."
"You weren't obedient enough, huh?" Ryven said, disgusted.
"Turns out, he wasn't exactly perfect either, since he helped you liberate me, but, that was largely because of his own sense of familial duty to his sister."
Ryven stood, motionless, considering what she was telling him, and wishing he could kill her father again. That man's evil survived long after him.
She continued. "When you killed my father, he most likely considered that a betrayal on my part, and blamed me along with you. Having me captured and used as bait to trap you ensured having both his betrayer and the murderer of his father and creator in the same location. If you hadn't managed to spring us both out of that trap..." Her voice trailed off and she shuddered involuntarily.
"Where can I find him?"
She raised her eyes, meeting his, recognizing the fire deep within them and knowing what it meant, but she asked anyway. "Are you going to kill him?"
"Yes." He nodded.
She thought for a moment, and Ryven half expected her to tell him not to, that he was her blood and family, etc etc etc. But, she didn't. Her eyes met his and he saw a rage that surpassed his own.
She finally spoke. "Make him suffer." She gave him the location and so much more.
He most certainly would make him suffer. He left Egghelende the next day, traveling to the secluded moon and, after sneaking into the isolated home, managed to take Query unawares. He drugged him, a syringe in the neck from the shadows. The drug acted fast, incapacitating him. Ryven had spent a good deal of time strapping him down to his own dinner table, the room kept dimly lit. Now, Ryven just waited for him to awaken to the rest of his life, which he swore to himself would not be pleasant.
He had been surprised at first to find that the man looked nothing like he expected. His few conversations with the man where there had been a video feed had all showed a dark skinned man with gold teeth. This man was as fair skinned as Leela and bore a striking resemblance to her. His hair was black, lacking the dyed red streaks Leela wore. His eyes were a deep green, just like hers. How could he have visited such pain on his own sister?
When the man who called himself Query awoke, he immediately jerked against his restraints in futility. His eyes were panicked at first, but then he calmed himself, his mind beginning to process and seek avenues of action. Ryven would have admired this trait, normally, but he was beyond anything but hatred where this man was concerned. Ryven continued to watch him in silence for a few moments before lighting up a cigarette, one of his personal stock. If he was half as good at his job as Leela said he was, he would know exactly who he was dealing with.
The man's nostrils soaked in the scent and he immediately frowned. "Not very wise, Mr. K. This will ruin our business relationship." His voice showed no hint of fear. Ryven remained silent. "Am I to assume you were able to free my sister?"
Ryven answered him. "Yes, I freed her from those dogs you sicced on her."
Query continued. "And she naturally told you where to find me." He stated it as a simple fact. "It appears I underestimated your abilities."
Ryven stepped into his view, his arms across his chest, one hand raised, holding a cigarette between the first two fingers, trailing white smoke in tiny wisps. "You really did, Liam." He used the man's true name.
Liam shook his head. "I haven't been that name in a long time. I don't miss it." He frowned. "Everything I did, I did out of duty. She betrayed me, and you were the instrument that did it."
Ryven shook his head. "No. What you did, you did for vengeance, out of a warped sense of duty."
Liam laughed. "Funny coming from you. Isn't this your vengeance?" His eyes jerked downward, indicating the current situation, him strapped to a table.
Ryven nodded. "Oh yes. This is definitely going to be vengeance. As it was when I murdered your father. That bastard had it coming, though. As do you."
Liam sighed. "Did you enjoy it? It must have felt so good. I read up on you Haijikiotens. So bloodthirsty. Runs in the blood, doesn't it? I bet that eats away at you, having gone all holy warrior and shit. Deep down, though, you can't really deny the blood, can you? You enjoy the slaughter."
Ryven sighed. "You may be right. I don't know." He shook his head and slowly put out his burning cigarette on Liam's forehead. "But, I do know I'm going to enjoy this."
Liam gasped and clenched his teeth under the pain of the ember driven into the flesh of his forehead. He spoke through his gritted teeth. "You'll never escape it, Haijikioten. Once a monster, always a monster. Your God and your shiny uniform change nothing."
Ryven ignored him. The time for chatting was over. Now, it was time to get bloody.
Five hours later...
Ryven was soaked up to his elbows in blood. His brow was drenched in sweat from his exertions. Liam's corpse lay on the table, a gaping hole in his chest, empty, where his heart used to be. Ryven held it in his right hand, dripping, down by his side. Liam's face was a lumpy pulp, his eyes dangling down on the sides of his head where he had left them when he removed them. His arms and legs were covered in lacerations and burns. Ryven had succumbed to his rage, and now he was trembling. Liam's words were true. He really couldn't escape what he was, could he? Could he? He shook his head. NO! This was right. This was not blind murder. Sure, he had gone a little overboard, maybe. But, if any kill was ever justified, it was this one. He threw the heart on the floor and ground his boot on it, mushing it into a lumpy mess of tissue.
This mission was over. Now he could rest again, and await the nightmares.
Geminate Region
HKYW-T System
Planet VII Moon 9
Ryven waited for his quarry to awaken. He had snuck into the elusive Query's secluded safehouse on this quiet moon in an off-the-beaten-path system in Geminate. He had taken him unawares, strangely enough, largely because the Query's best defense was the fact his identity was unknown and his location remote. However, Ryven knew both his identity and location, thanks to Leela. What a bombshell that had been. Both had taken a day to recover before either had spoken to each other.
She had come to his quarters, and he had let her in. Both seemed embarassed, a meekness worn by both of them, ashamed to have the other see them the way they had both been in Ibura. They both shifted awkwardly before Leela broke the silence.
"I wanted to see you. To, well, to thank you." She said, her eyes meeting his. She seemed so very young sometimes, and yet, she had suffered so much. He loved her still, in a way only he could. She knew it as well. He wanted to reach out and hold her close to him. To protect her. To always protect her. But, he had failed.
"Thank me?" He looked baffled. "Leela. You shouldn't thank me. I should've protected you. I should've kept you safe! Instead, I ran off, charging at shadows while they..." He choked on his words. The memory of her chained in agony, defiled and abused still too fresh in his mind. His face was red, tears streaming down from his eyes and leaving trails on his cheeks, glistening.
"Ry, when are you ever going to learn?" She spoke softly, her own eyes filled with tears. "It isn't always your fault." She reached up and touched his cheek, her eyes soft, pleading with him to forgive himself. But, he couldn't. He never would.
He broke the contact, turning around to regain his composure. He spoke, an edge of steel in his voice. "It's not over yet. I have to find him, and I have to kill him."
Leela nodded silently from behind him. "That's not hard."
Ryven shook his head, frustrated. "He's a ghost. No trail. I don't even know who to look for. Everyone knows him only as Query."
"Everyone except me." She corrected him. "I should. He's my brother."
Ryven turned around, his face a look of surprise and confusion. "Brother? What the fuck?"
Leela nodded, her eyes downcast. "My father had him created. Similar to the manner in which he engineered me, but with much more intensive programming at a genetic level. He was designed at birth to be a perfect servant, where I was always much more willful. I am a year or two older than he is."
"You weren't obedient enough, huh?" Ryven said, disgusted.
"Turns out, he wasn't exactly perfect either, since he helped you liberate me, but, that was largely because of his own sense of familial duty to his sister."
Ryven stood, motionless, considering what she was telling him, and wishing he could kill her father again. That man's evil survived long after him.
She continued. "When you killed my father, he most likely considered that a betrayal on my part, and blamed me along with you. Having me captured and used as bait to trap you ensured having both his betrayer and the murderer of his father and creator in the same location. If you hadn't managed to spring us both out of that trap..." Her voice trailed off and she shuddered involuntarily.
"Where can I find him?"
She raised her eyes, meeting his, recognizing the fire deep within them and knowing what it meant, but she asked anyway. "Are you going to kill him?"
"Yes." He nodded.
She thought for a moment, and Ryven half expected her to tell him not to, that he was her blood and family, etc etc etc. But, she didn't. Her eyes met his and he saw a rage that surpassed his own.
She finally spoke. "Make him suffer." She gave him the location and so much more.
He most certainly would make him suffer. He left Egghelende the next day, traveling to the secluded moon and, after sneaking into the isolated home, managed to take Query unawares. He drugged him, a syringe in the neck from the shadows. The drug acted fast, incapacitating him. Ryven had spent a good deal of time strapping him down to his own dinner table, the room kept dimly lit. Now, Ryven just waited for him to awaken to the rest of his life, which he swore to himself would not be pleasant.
He had been surprised at first to find that the man looked nothing like he expected. His few conversations with the man where there had been a video feed had all showed a dark skinned man with gold teeth. This man was as fair skinned as Leela and bore a striking resemblance to her. His hair was black, lacking the dyed red streaks Leela wore. His eyes were a deep green, just like hers. How could he have visited such pain on his own sister?
When the man who called himself Query awoke, he immediately jerked against his restraints in futility. His eyes were panicked at first, but then he calmed himself, his mind beginning to process and seek avenues of action. Ryven would have admired this trait, normally, but he was beyond anything but hatred where this man was concerned. Ryven continued to watch him in silence for a few moments before lighting up a cigarette, one of his personal stock. If he was half as good at his job as Leela said he was, he would know exactly who he was dealing with.
The man's nostrils soaked in the scent and he immediately frowned. "Not very wise, Mr. K. This will ruin our business relationship." His voice showed no hint of fear. Ryven remained silent. "Am I to assume you were able to free my sister?"
Ryven answered him. "Yes, I freed her from those dogs you sicced on her."
Query continued. "And she naturally told you where to find me." He stated it as a simple fact. "It appears I underestimated your abilities."
Ryven stepped into his view, his arms across his chest, one hand raised, holding a cigarette between the first two fingers, trailing white smoke in tiny wisps. "You really did, Liam." He used the man's true name.
Liam shook his head. "I haven't been that name in a long time. I don't miss it." He frowned. "Everything I did, I did out of duty. She betrayed me, and you were the instrument that did it."
Ryven shook his head. "No. What you did, you did for vengeance, out of a warped sense of duty."
Liam laughed. "Funny coming from you. Isn't this your vengeance?" His eyes jerked downward, indicating the current situation, him strapped to a table.
Ryven nodded. "Oh yes. This is definitely going to be vengeance. As it was when I murdered your father. That bastard had it coming, though. As do you."
Liam sighed. "Did you enjoy it? It must have felt so good. I read up on you Haijikiotens. So bloodthirsty. Runs in the blood, doesn't it? I bet that eats away at you, having gone all holy warrior and shit. Deep down, though, you can't really deny the blood, can you? You enjoy the slaughter."
Ryven sighed. "You may be right. I don't know." He shook his head and slowly put out his burning cigarette on Liam's forehead. "But, I do know I'm going to enjoy this."
Liam gasped and clenched his teeth under the pain of the ember driven into the flesh of his forehead. He spoke through his gritted teeth. "You'll never escape it, Haijikioten. Once a monster, always a monster. Your God and your shiny uniform change nothing."
Ryven ignored him. The time for chatting was over. Now, it was time to get bloody.
Five hours later...
Ryven was soaked up to his elbows in blood. His brow was drenched in sweat from his exertions. Liam's corpse lay on the table, a gaping hole in his chest, empty, where his heart used to be. Ryven held it in his right hand, dripping, down by his side. Liam's face was a lumpy pulp, his eyes dangling down on the sides of his head where he had left them when he removed them. His arms and legs were covered in lacerations and burns. Ryven had succumbed to his rage, and now he was trembling. Liam's words were true. He really couldn't escape what he was, could he? Could he? He shook his head. NO! This was right. This was not blind murder. Sure, he had gone a little overboard, maybe. But, if any kill was ever justified, it was this one. He threw the heart on the floor and ground his boot on it, mushing it into a lumpy mess of tissue.
This mission was over. Now he could rest again, and await the nightmares.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Shining Armor, Part VII: The Rescue
7-28 YC114 0430
Ibura System
Planet II Orbital Platform
Ryven soared silently through the vacuum of space, the massive sphere of the planet and the small orbital facility the only objects in view. He had left out a special hatch in his Manticore-class bomber and fired a short burst of his EVA suit's thrusters. He had only three kilometers of distance to cover. He was aiming for a cluster of antennae at the top of the platform. Despite the rage boiling and surging through his every fiber, he was a study in precision. He landed two meters shy and crawled to the cluster, placing a demolitions charge before crawling another 200 meters to the platform's airlock. He eased open the airlock's control panel and pressed the button to open it, knowing full well any personnel inside would be immediately aware. He would have twenty seconds to ovveride the internal control to gain access to the facility. It took him twelve, his every motion a channel for his fury, his body a weapon, his rage the fuel. As the airlock's interior door swung slowly open, Ryven dropped a smoke grenade that quickly filled the platform's entryway with thick white smoke. Ryven pulled off his helmet quickly, allowing for less impeded vision. His usual sunglasses adorned his face, and he pressed a small button on the frame of the right lens, activating the infrared detection filter. They couldn't see him. He could see them. There were approximately twelve men, all aiming where they expected him to be. He needed to move, and fast.
Ryven was a purist. He didn't use any cybernetic enhancements on his body. However, his brain was hardwired with multiple implants. His reflexes, his senses, his neural processes were all accelerated. He rolled to the right and out of the airlock into the main entryway, a large rectangular room with little to no cover for at least five meters before there was a barricade in front of a wide corridor and a large glass-windowed room that was obviously the security station for this airlock. Ryven needed to get to that room.
Ryven propelled himself rapidly the three meters to the nearest attacker. All twelve were now firing at the airlock where he had just been crouching. He took the first attacker unawares, thrusting his fist up under the man's chin and driving his elbow into the man's throat. He wrenched the man's assault rifle from his arms and flipped over in air and caught it, firing two shots into the man's brain, before crouching and rolling to bring the sights up to the second attacker. The sights lined up as the attackers all started to become aware he was no longer in the airlock and began searching for him. He squeezed the trigger gently, a burst of three rounds exploding through the second man's face, a cloud of pink and grey spreading out in their wake.
Ryven winced as one of the enemy's shots found home and tore through his lower abdomen on the left side. His suit was only lightly armored and couldn't stop these high-caliber rounds. He grunted and forced himself to ignore the pain and quickly dispatched another three of the orbital platform's security personnel. He was only twenty meters away from the security booth. Seven attackers remained. His smoke screen would begin to clear very soon. With his left hand, he drew his personal pistol from the holster on the small of his back. Relying on his heightened senses, he aimed blindly and began firing as he began to run, firing the assault rifle in short bursts and the pistol sporadically. As he closed the distance to the remaining armed men, he dropped and slid on his knees across the smooth metal floor of the room, firing as he went. His slide took him all the way to the doorway of the security booth, which was, thankfully, wide open. A man sat there in a chair, a headset on his head, his face one of sheer surprise and terror, his mouth agape. Ryven's face was covered in blood, his expression macabre, a divine nightmare visited upon them. The man in the chair died before he could say a word, riddled with a burst of automatic fire.
He slowly stood and surveyed the carnage. The smoke hung in a haze, low and now only a thin veil, only enhancing the horror. Twelve men lay dead, blood spreading in pools, the walls spackled with gore and pocked with bullet impacts. Ryven would have smiled, but the bloodlust was high in him. He could only stare at it, in awe at the surge of euphoria. It felt good. But, then he felt the pain. They had gotten another lucky shot or two in. His leg was tender and it was weakening under his weight. He looked down and could see that he had been shot in his right shin, the bone most likely broken. The wound in his abdomen was slowly oozing blood as well. Ryven swore to himself and forced himself to continue through the facility. Somewhere on this small platform, Leela was being held. Somewhere on this platform, there was a man in desperate need of killing.
Ryven stalked the corridors of the ship, killing indiscriminately. The blood on his face had coagulated and was beginning to turn black. His black EVA suit, black, shades, and blood streaked face created a striking image, an angel of death, an executioner. His lips turned up in a grin. The old feelings were coming back. The Haijikioten blood was reviving.
Ryven was still high on his bloodlust when he finally found Leela. The door to the chamber slid open with a quiet hiss and his eyes found her in the center of the room, suspended spread eagle by wrist and ankle chains attached to solid metal columns that ran floor to ceiling. There was a drain below her in the floor and it showed him proof of what was not readily visible to him when he first entered. The drain was clogged and a puddle of blood and human waste had formed. As he approached her, his rage increased with every step until it turned cold. Her hair was matted with blood. Her right eye was swollen shut and surrounded by a sickly colored bruise. Her lip was split, and blood trickled out the corners of her mouth and stained her teeth. Her clothing was torn and clung to her in rags. He could see evidence of recent and repeated rapes. His mind was consumed with a swirl of emotions: rage, horror, and a profound guilt at not better protecting her. This was his fault. His teeth clenched so tightly he thought they might snap.
Leela choked out a small whimper, her voice unintelligible. Her one good eye was pleading with him. Blood-red tears streaked her face and she strained against her chains. She was trying desperately to tell him something. "What is it? What?" He shouted, her every pain felt in the pain in his heart.
"She's trying to tell you, it's a trap." A quiet voice, filled with mirth, came from behind him. Ryven could've kicked himself. What a noob mistake. You always check corners. His muscles tensed and he spun, leveling his rifle as he did.
The sharpened point of a long, slender, barbed spear tore through his chest and drove itself into the floor, pinning him there. His rifle dropped from his right hand, his right side now numb. He choked and coughed up a large glob of bright crimson. The spear had driven itself through his right lung, and bubbles of pink began to ooze out the corners of his mouth. His body was wracked with the pain and shock of such sudden and unexpected trauma and he fought to maintain consciousness as his mind tried to cope with this onslaught and massive damage. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth and managed to slow his gasping ragged breaths. After staving off the dark vice of shock, he opened his eyes and glared at his third target, Matteo Nantes, a slender Gallente man with dark hair and eyes and the wild gaze of a man who took much pleasure from inflicting pain.
"Well played, Nantes." Ryven coughed the words, more blood spilling from his mouth. "But, why set a trap for me?"
Nantes was flanked on both sides by two armed gunmen. He carried the long silver spear-gun that had been used to pin him so deftly to the floor. Ryven was on his knees, the shaft of the spear angled down and out his back, the blood from the exit wound running down the length of it to the floor. The spear was a good two and a half meters long. The gun from which it was fired was nearly three quarters of that size. Nantes began to laugh the cold laughter of a true sadist.
"That's what I was paid to do, Mr. Krennel. Or should I call you by your real name? Mr. Haijikioten, wasn't it?" Matteo's eyes gleamed.
Ryven seethed at the mention of his birth name. What the fuck could this asshole know about any of that? Further, it wasn't even relevant. His brain shut it out. It was a distraction. His autonomous nervous system began funneling massive amounts of adrenaline into his system. The pain was beginning to subside. Implants hardwired into his brain began feeding endorphines and stimulants into appropriate portions of his body and a reserve of nanites began to repair nerve damage. His body was slowly restoring itself to functionality. Ryven was not aware of the minutia, but he knew he had only to keep this man talking for a few more minutes and he could find out what he needed to know, and then orchestrate his exit plan. He finally replied. "Names are irrelevant."
"Ah. You are correct, of course." He glanced over at Leela, savoring her agony. "See, I was hired by the man you know as Query. He specified that I needed to capture both of you. Using Leela as bait was also his idea." He smiled. "It worked wonderfully."
Ryven nodded. It had worked quite perfectly, hadn't it. Aside from the assertion that he was even remotely trapped. Ryven's breathing was becoming less labored, but he feigned difficulty. He gasped his next words. "So..I...have...a...question."
Nantes looked amused. "Oh, this should be good. Of course, let's hear it."
"This...room..." He paused, gasping for breath. "Fluid routers....flash...clone activation?"
Nantes smiled even wider. "Jammed. The communications cluster atop this facility has an inward antenna array that broadcasts a signal that effectively cancels fluid router traffic. If you are killed here, I'm afraid clone reactivation will be severely difficult, if possible at all. The likelihood of a successful clone activation without some sort of permanent neurological damage is just about zero."
Ryven was nearly ready. "Comms...array...top of facility?" He gasped.
Nantes smiled. "That's what I said."
Ryven returned the smile. "Good. That's where I planted my first set of explosives." He used his left arm to press the detonator button on the left side of his belt.
Nantes' smile disappeared as he heard the sudden roar of a massive explosion from above them. The whole facility shook and the lights flickered in the chamber. Both gunmen and Nantes were rocked off balance. Ryven used this moment to grasp the tail end of the spear impaling him and pull himself upward till he slid off the end. Blood flowed rapidly from the large wound, but, he ignored it and sprung at unthinkable speed toward the three men. He slammed the first gunman's head into the bulkhead, smashing his face into an unrecognizable mess. The he swept the feet out from under the second gunman and stomped his neck with his boot, the bones crushed to powder with the force of his unbridled and unrestrained fury. He reached out and grasped Nantes by the throat, his fingers pincers, digging into the man's flesh. Nantes's eyes were filled with fear, delicious fear, and feral Ryven relished it, drank it in, every moment nourishing a darkness in his soul. He loved it. He quickly drug Nantes face over to the flat end of the spear that had only moments before been impaling Ryven to the floor.
"Say goodbye, Nantes." Ryven said, his voice the deep cold of pure malice. Without waiting for any reply, he shifted his grip to the back of Nantes' head and drove his face onto the butt end of the spear, driving the shaft up through his eye socket and into his brain cavity. Target three was dead. Ryven dropped to his knees, the reality of the violence, the rage, the emotional turmoil of the last few moments too much for him to bear. A deep moan escaped from within him. The world went white. Only the memory, the tugging sensation of one last mission to accomplish kept him from succumbing to it. He made himself stand. He walked, as a man possessed, over to Leela, releasing her restraints. She collapsed onto him, and they both fell to the floor, thudding and smacking into the puddle of blood and excrement below her. Neither cared.
Leela simply whimpered in agony as Ryven held her, rocking both of them back and forth. He pulled a second detonator from his pocket. "Time to go home, Leela." He whispered, as his thumb depressed the detonator, and the entire facility burst into a ball of white hot debris.
They both awoke in Egghelende.
Ibura System
Planet II Orbital Platform
Ryven soared silently through the vacuum of space, the massive sphere of the planet and the small orbital facility the only objects in view. He had left out a special hatch in his Manticore-class bomber and fired a short burst of his EVA suit's thrusters. He had only three kilometers of distance to cover. He was aiming for a cluster of antennae at the top of the platform. Despite the rage boiling and surging through his every fiber, he was a study in precision. He landed two meters shy and crawled to the cluster, placing a demolitions charge before crawling another 200 meters to the platform's airlock. He eased open the airlock's control panel and pressed the button to open it, knowing full well any personnel inside would be immediately aware. He would have twenty seconds to ovveride the internal control to gain access to the facility. It took him twelve, his every motion a channel for his fury, his body a weapon, his rage the fuel. As the airlock's interior door swung slowly open, Ryven dropped a smoke grenade that quickly filled the platform's entryway with thick white smoke. Ryven pulled off his helmet quickly, allowing for less impeded vision. His usual sunglasses adorned his face, and he pressed a small button on the frame of the right lens, activating the infrared detection filter. They couldn't see him. He could see them. There were approximately twelve men, all aiming where they expected him to be. He needed to move, and fast.
Ryven was a purist. He didn't use any cybernetic enhancements on his body. However, his brain was hardwired with multiple implants. His reflexes, his senses, his neural processes were all accelerated. He rolled to the right and out of the airlock into the main entryway, a large rectangular room with little to no cover for at least five meters before there was a barricade in front of a wide corridor and a large glass-windowed room that was obviously the security station for this airlock. Ryven needed to get to that room.
Ryven propelled himself rapidly the three meters to the nearest attacker. All twelve were now firing at the airlock where he had just been crouching. He took the first attacker unawares, thrusting his fist up under the man's chin and driving his elbow into the man's throat. He wrenched the man's assault rifle from his arms and flipped over in air and caught it, firing two shots into the man's brain, before crouching and rolling to bring the sights up to the second attacker. The sights lined up as the attackers all started to become aware he was no longer in the airlock and began searching for him. He squeezed the trigger gently, a burst of three rounds exploding through the second man's face, a cloud of pink and grey spreading out in their wake.
Ryven winced as one of the enemy's shots found home and tore through his lower abdomen on the left side. His suit was only lightly armored and couldn't stop these high-caliber rounds. He grunted and forced himself to ignore the pain and quickly dispatched another three of the orbital platform's security personnel. He was only twenty meters away from the security booth. Seven attackers remained. His smoke screen would begin to clear very soon. With his left hand, he drew his personal pistol from the holster on the small of his back. Relying on his heightened senses, he aimed blindly and began firing as he began to run, firing the assault rifle in short bursts and the pistol sporadically. As he closed the distance to the remaining armed men, he dropped and slid on his knees across the smooth metal floor of the room, firing as he went. His slide took him all the way to the doorway of the security booth, which was, thankfully, wide open. A man sat there in a chair, a headset on his head, his face one of sheer surprise and terror, his mouth agape. Ryven's face was covered in blood, his expression macabre, a divine nightmare visited upon them. The man in the chair died before he could say a word, riddled with a burst of automatic fire.
He slowly stood and surveyed the carnage. The smoke hung in a haze, low and now only a thin veil, only enhancing the horror. Twelve men lay dead, blood spreading in pools, the walls spackled with gore and pocked with bullet impacts. Ryven would have smiled, but the bloodlust was high in him. He could only stare at it, in awe at the surge of euphoria. It felt good. But, then he felt the pain. They had gotten another lucky shot or two in. His leg was tender and it was weakening under his weight. He looked down and could see that he had been shot in his right shin, the bone most likely broken. The wound in his abdomen was slowly oozing blood as well. Ryven swore to himself and forced himself to continue through the facility. Somewhere on this small platform, Leela was being held. Somewhere on this platform, there was a man in desperate need of killing.
Ryven stalked the corridors of the ship, killing indiscriminately. The blood on his face had coagulated and was beginning to turn black. His black EVA suit, black, shades, and blood streaked face created a striking image, an angel of death, an executioner. His lips turned up in a grin. The old feelings were coming back. The Haijikioten blood was reviving.
Ryven was still high on his bloodlust when he finally found Leela. The door to the chamber slid open with a quiet hiss and his eyes found her in the center of the room, suspended spread eagle by wrist and ankle chains attached to solid metal columns that ran floor to ceiling. There was a drain below her in the floor and it showed him proof of what was not readily visible to him when he first entered. The drain was clogged and a puddle of blood and human waste had formed. As he approached her, his rage increased with every step until it turned cold. Her hair was matted with blood. Her right eye was swollen shut and surrounded by a sickly colored bruise. Her lip was split, and blood trickled out the corners of her mouth and stained her teeth. Her clothing was torn and clung to her in rags. He could see evidence of recent and repeated rapes. His mind was consumed with a swirl of emotions: rage, horror, and a profound guilt at not better protecting her. This was his fault. His teeth clenched so tightly he thought they might snap.
Leela choked out a small whimper, her voice unintelligible. Her one good eye was pleading with him. Blood-red tears streaked her face and she strained against her chains. She was trying desperately to tell him something. "What is it? What?" He shouted, her every pain felt in the pain in his heart.
"She's trying to tell you, it's a trap." A quiet voice, filled with mirth, came from behind him. Ryven could've kicked himself. What a noob mistake. You always check corners. His muscles tensed and he spun, leveling his rifle as he did.
The sharpened point of a long, slender, barbed spear tore through his chest and drove itself into the floor, pinning him there. His rifle dropped from his right hand, his right side now numb. He choked and coughed up a large glob of bright crimson. The spear had driven itself through his right lung, and bubbles of pink began to ooze out the corners of his mouth. His body was wracked with the pain and shock of such sudden and unexpected trauma and he fought to maintain consciousness as his mind tried to cope with this onslaught and massive damage. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth and managed to slow his gasping ragged breaths. After staving off the dark vice of shock, he opened his eyes and glared at his third target, Matteo Nantes, a slender Gallente man with dark hair and eyes and the wild gaze of a man who took much pleasure from inflicting pain.
"Well played, Nantes." Ryven coughed the words, more blood spilling from his mouth. "But, why set a trap for me?"
Nantes was flanked on both sides by two armed gunmen. He carried the long silver spear-gun that had been used to pin him so deftly to the floor. Ryven was on his knees, the shaft of the spear angled down and out his back, the blood from the exit wound running down the length of it to the floor. The spear was a good two and a half meters long. The gun from which it was fired was nearly three quarters of that size. Nantes began to laugh the cold laughter of a true sadist.
"That's what I was paid to do, Mr. Krennel. Or should I call you by your real name? Mr. Haijikioten, wasn't it?" Matteo's eyes gleamed.
Ryven seethed at the mention of his birth name. What the fuck could this asshole know about any of that? Further, it wasn't even relevant. His brain shut it out. It was a distraction. His autonomous nervous system began funneling massive amounts of adrenaline into his system. The pain was beginning to subside. Implants hardwired into his brain began feeding endorphines and stimulants into appropriate portions of his body and a reserve of nanites began to repair nerve damage. His body was slowly restoring itself to functionality. Ryven was not aware of the minutia, but he knew he had only to keep this man talking for a few more minutes and he could find out what he needed to know, and then orchestrate his exit plan. He finally replied. "Names are irrelevant."
"Ah. You are correct, of course." He glanced over at Leela, savoring her agony. "See, I was hired by the man you know as Query. He specified that I needed to capture both of you. Using Leela as bait was also his idea." He smiled. "It worked wonderfully."
Ryven nodded. It had worked quite perfectly, hadn't it. Aside from the assertion that he was even remotely trapped. Ryven's breathing was becoming less labored, but he feigned difficulty. He gasped his next words. "So..I...have...a...question."
Nantes looked amused. "Oh, this should be good. Of course, let's hear it."
"This...room..." He paused, gasping for breath. "Fluid routers....flash...clone activation?"
Nantes smiled even wider. "Jammed. The communications cluster atop this facility has an inward antenna array that broadcasts a signal that effectively cancels fluid router traffic. If you are killed here, I'm afraid clone reactivation will be severely difficult, if possible at all. The likelihood of a successful clone activation without some sort of permanent neurological damage is just about zero."
Ryven was nearly ready. "Comms...array...top of facility?" He gasped.
Nantes smiled. "That's what I said."
Ryven returned the smile. "Good. That's where I planted my first set of explosives." He used his left arm to press the detonator button on the left side of his belt.
Nantes' smile disappeared as he heard the sudden roar of a massive explosion from above them. The whole facility shook and the lights flickered in the chamber. Both gunmen and Nantes were rocked off balance. Ryven used this moment to grasp the tail end of the spear impaling him and pull himself upward till he slid off the end. Blood flowed rapidly from the large wound, but, he ignored it and sprung at unthinkable speed toward the three men. He slammed the first gunman's head into the bulkhead, smashing his face into an unrecognizable mess. The he swept the feet out from under the second gunman and stomped his neck with his boot, the bones crushed to powder with the force of his unbridled and unrestrained fury. He reached out and grasped Nantes by the throat, his fingers pincers, digging into the man's flesh. Nantes's eyes were filled with fear, delicious fear, and feral Ryven relished it, drank it in, every moment nourishing a darkness in his soul. He loved it. He quickly drug Nantes face over to the flat end of the spear that had only moments before been impaling Ryven to the floor.
"Say goodbye, Nantes." Ryven said, his voice the deep cold of pure malice. Without waiting for any reply, he shifted his grip to the back of Nantes' head and drove his face onto the butt end of the spear, driving the shaft up through his eye socket and into his brain cavity. Target three was dead. Ryven dropped to his knees, the reality of the violence, the rage, the emotional turmoil of the last few moments too much for him to bear. A deep moan escaped from within him. The world went white. Only the memory, the tugging sensation of one last mission to accomplish kept him from succumbing to it. He made himself stand. He walked, as a man possessed, over to Leela, releasing her restraints. She collapsed onto him, and they both fell to the floor, thudding and smacking into the puddle of blood and excrement below her. Neither cared.
Leela simply whimpered in agony as Ryven held her, rocking both of them back and forth. He pulled a second detonator from his pocket. "Time to go home, Leela." He whispered, as his thumb depressed the detonator, and the entire facility burst into a ball of white hot debris.
They both awoke in Egghelende.
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