Post by godly on Feb 16, 2010 14:20:27 GMT 10
In 2110 humanity had reached a peak, in both technology and knowledge. The average human lifespan had been extended to nearly two hundred years with prime health until several weeks before death. Political borders no longer existed as the space age had been achieved so borders weren’t necessary. The planet was a single state ruled by a council of elected officials, who answered to the masses.
However it wasn’t to last in 2245 on September the 2nd on the three hundredth anniversary of the end of the second Great War a group appeared who were discontented with peace. They desired to see the world returned to a state of conflict, a group that desired nothing but chaos. The group called themselves Apocalipsa.
Taking their name from the Romanian language was done in attempt to reflect their structure and beliefs. They were in short a supernatural cult. Using genetic manipulation each member took on attributes of their chosen creature. The more powerful creatures namely, the triumvirate of supernatural lords commanded the forces. Vampires the undead lords, werewolves leaders of the lycanthropes and sorcerers commanding the spellcasters.
Due to their sudden strike and powerful abilities Apocalipsa was able to take control of over half the worlds strategic military points.
It didn’t take long for fighting to escalate into a full-scale war and things reached a stalemate. Apocalipsa while powerful was relatively small yet humanity even after centuries of peace still had over a billion troops to call upon.
2249 four years after the first engagement the earth was scorched. Both sides desperate for a resolution activated their respective super weapons. Chemical, biological and nuclear weapons devastated the planet, at least half of humanity died in the initial attacks and a further third died in the aftermath.
The majority of the world was damaged, unable to support life, due to the dangerous and life sapping energy that filled these areas, which in time became known as Styx Zones or “rivers” due the fact that anything that went in unprotected never came back, most living beings died within hours. Yet those that survived were warped by the energies in the rivers, some became different, safe unless you hurt them or interrupted them feeding on inanimate objects, stone, metal and the remaining ruins of humanity, the remainder became vicious things that hunted anything that moved.
Humanity adapted til it began to flourish once more, safe inside their “Havens” and it had progressed to a level almost on par with what it had been before its fall. However the world became ever more dangerous as a new breed of creature appeared, a creature that grew stronger with each kill as it absorbed the very energy produced at the moment a living being died. In addition to this the creature’s blood was lethal to most living things and could dissolve most natural materials, even the mere presence of them corrupted earth and living things. Due to this and their vicious nature they were dubbed “basilisks” after the ancient mythological creature.
Two organizations were created to combat this threat, the Specialist Styx Forces, which filled most militaristic rolls outside the havens of humanity, and the scouts, assassins and true Special Forces, Shadow Vixens, psionically capable and genetically enhanced humans capable of extraordinary feats, but due to the nature of the enhancements a solely female force.
Humanity had arrived once more at a state of peace, ruled by a single woman called the Speaker; she was assisted by an advisor from each “Haven” who acted in place of the various ministers in a regular government. However this unification was also its weakness, it closed itself off to new ideas and forward thinking, advancing only in predetermined paths set down by the Speaker, her advisors and select elements of society.
Those who did not conform to their closed views were cast out and left to fend for themselves. With a great deal of luck and some assistance from sympathetic sources those who were cast out managed to survive in their hostile environment, to truly survive however they had to salvage relics from the War of Chaos quad Ruina. Ancient and powerful mechanoid suits of armour the size of a building, called Dragoons. Soon these outcasts became know as Knights, due to their Dragoons and their code of honour, “Help those who require it, protect those who are cast out and guard those you care for”.
Over the past two hundred years stability has been achieved, the Haven’s are almost free of turmoil, the basilisks became quiet and the Knights are preparing. The planet is hushed and waiting, something is coming, something that will rock the world to its very foundations.
A shimmering dot appeared, then nothing. She checked her visor, to make sure it was functioning properly, satisfied that it was she wondered what had set it off. It couldn’t be, the basilisk she was hunting. The creature was too blood drunk to approach quietly enough for her not to hear it, and it had absorbed to much death energy to avoid her sensors. So what had set her motion detector off?
She reached out with her mind and she felt it, it was faint but she knew it was what had been sighted and it was too close. And it was completely calm.
Switching from plain view to thermal it sprang into view, and it was then she realised that something was wrong. This wasn’t a second tier basilisk, as the grades were designated, the higher the tier the more dangerous, the more intelligent and the more human a form it could assume, this one was a fourth tier or higher, an almost perfect replica of a human, at least in hiding, with a disguise. Or at least that was what current research had established.
When it began killing or fighting it normally transformed into a form suited solely for death and destruction with the creatures personality dictating how it looked and how it killed. Although it was unknown to get to so high a tier, they were supposedly killed long before that.
Pulling her EM Flechette cannon under cover she made sure her cloak was covering her, she clicked her radio on.
‘This is Shadow Vixen, Frejya, target was misidentified, I say again target was misidentified, over,’ she said into a radio at her throat, her voice was dry and harsh from anxiety and fear. She didn’t know if she could kill one this powerful.
‘Say again Frejya? Misidentified, how? The SSF were certain it was a tier two when it left the safe zone. And that was only two days ago,’ replied a horrified voice at the other end, Frejya’s contact and handler, Gefion. ‘How is this possible? Are you sure? What tier is it now?’
‘I don’t know Gef I think it’s a tier six, at least, if they get that high, in thermal it looks almost human,’ Frejya said, hoping the basilisk couldn’t see, sense or hear her under her protective cloak. ‘I’m not sure, my instruments can’t get a clear read on it.’
‘How close is it Frejya? What are the differences?’
‘It has a pair of wings, that’s all.’
‘Wings? No other basilisk has had wings.’
‘What do I do Gef? I can’t handle this one alone, even with this new cannon. At least I don’t think so not that high.’
Gefion went silent for several minutes, ‘ Shadow Vixen Frejya, The Assembly has ordered you to observe it’s movement and wait until the Special Zone Operatives arrive to assist you in terminating it,’ she said biting off every word.
Frejya was silent, taken aback, what she had been ordered to do was tantamount to suicide, even a squadron of Vixens couldn’t hold for long against a tier four, and now she was being ordered to stand alone against one of the most powerful Basilisks every encountered.
‘I’m sorry Frey, the Speaker herself ordered it, I can’t do anything about it, I’m so sorry.’
She sat there in her little hide, in a state of shock, she tried to ask Gefion a question several time but her voice was gone, it wasn’t until several more dots appeared on her radar that she snapped back to reality.
Setting up her weapon once more she looked trough the scope switching to thermal as he radar was only showing intermittent flashes, she saw almost a dozen of zone creatures approach the first, each similar to a human with only a few differences, some had horns, some hade elongated limbs and claws, some had spines, but all of the bore a great resemblance to a human in overall shape. The remaining additions could be concealed or explained
Tapping a few buttons on small control pad on her wrist Frejya activated a small camera in her visor.
‘Please tell me your receiving this Gef,’ Frejya whispered, the shock and fear evident in her voice.
After a momentary pause, ‘I can see it Frey but I don’t believe it,’ she went silent for a few seconds. ‘Frey, engage the directional microphone in your visor.’ Frejya attached an object three inches long to the barrel of her rifle and touched a sensor pad below her ear. ‘Give me a moment.’ Noise filled her earpiece, for a few seconds, and then several words broke through.
‘Should…have…Angelisi…here?’ a strange two toned gravely voice said. ‘If…Knights…about…trouble.’
‘Adjusting signal strength,’ Gefion whispered.
Suddenly the voices came into shocking clarity.
‘No Termita,’ a calm slow voice, much like a river given voice, said. ‘There are no Knights nearby. The mechanical suits they use give off too much ‘Life’ to remain hidden from me.’
‘Certainly the Knights are troublesome,’ said a sibilant, lilting voice. ‘But what of the Vixens, and the SSF soldiers? They are many, and they are getting stronger.’
Debate broke out among the last to arrive the first folded it’s arms, ‘Your paranoia is amazing. Those that dwell in the Havens will not be a problem they do not understand their potential and even if they did they will not last long enough to use it. Those wandering vagabond Knights are the only real problem we have to worry about. The zone dwellers can only destroy a berserk Dominatas at best, what they call a tier four.’
‘Angelic rankings?’ Gefion whispered to herself, forgetting what was going on. ‘From the old religions? They faded out over two centuries ago.’
‘Each of you is a Thronos and yet you worry so?’ the winged one’s voice was deep, sure, and melodic, yet it contained such darkness and hatred. ‘And you can command the elements, the very foundations of the world, when He awakens your latent abilities you will be able to use them, bend them to your will.’
‘What of the harbinger Lord Israfil? He has the power to injure a Seraphim such as yourself…?’ the sibilant voice whispered the fear evident.
Israfil reached up to touch his face, ‘Yes he is dangerous; perhaps he can stop us if he had it. But it was lost.’
‘That thing! Is a tier nine!’ Gefion gibbered, her voice nothing more than a croak in her terror. ‘Gods help us all.’
Shaking himself he looked around. ‘Even though the Vixens can do nothing I still dislike being spied upon. Arzev,’ one of the spined and tailed basilisks stepped forward, ‘Take care of it will you?’
‘At once lord.’
Stepping into view from the decrepit building it had been meeting in, Frejya switched her scope back to normal vision and it came into view.
It stood around seven feet tall with three-inch spines running down it’s spine, a four foot long tail and a frame like a brick wall.
Crouching it leapt to the top of the building it had been in, sweeping it’s head from side to side it saw her, extending it’s tail it braced itself to jump.
Suddenly everything slowed to a crawl for Frejya, she just stared at the basilisk through her crosshairs, saw the maniac grin split its face, the razor sharp teeth that filled it’s mouth and knew she was staring death in the face.
She became aware of the screaming in her earpiece. ‘What are you doing!?’ Gefion screamed. ‘Celeste, fire dammit, FIRE!’
The use of her real name jolted her into action bracing her legs and back against the wall of the hide she pulled the trigger.
The recoil of the rifle and the energy flash it produced tore up the ground near the muzzle and the edge of the hide, but the rifle itself produced a three-foot long spear shaped bolt of electro magnetic energy that could punch through almost three metres of most of the strongest alloys known, supposedly shred the hide of a tier four basilisk and had a lethal range of four kilometres, it was the peak of weapons development for the Assembly, there was currently only one working prototype in existence.
Moving as she moved to avoid a chest shot, the bolt hit the basilisk in the shoulder where it had created larger heavier plates, almost like shields, and it tore right through the plates and ripped the arm off.
Silvery orange ichor, which started to dissolve the concrete of the building roof, giving off a noxious miasma as it did so, spurted from the torn dark red wound where the basilisk’s arm had been. It stared at the space where it’s arm had been, the it screamed, half in insane rage and half in pain.
As it screamed it’s shape started to warp, the sound of cracking bones and tearing muscle filled the air. It was starting it’s transformation, and she knew it’d likely finish before her weapon had recharged for another shot.
Before it got more than halfway through it’s transformation though something came from the sky like a hammer of god and landed on the creature crushing it and putting a seven-foot long slab of a sword through the monster.
Standing on top of the remains of the Thronos, sword protruding from the beast’s chest was a nine-foot tall Dragoon. It had a cloak wrapped about it’s shoulders, one that was similar to the one Celeste now wore, except it masked everything from heat, to motion, to life energy and even to the eye.
The hood was pulled up and all she could see of the helmet was a foot long horn protruding from, she assumed, the forehead. The horn and what was actually visible of the armour, revealed that it had no solid colour showing that the metal hadn’t been painted but rather had been left the raw shifting colour of the alloy from which it was made, a super dense, durable, energy absorbing metal, Orichalcum.
Because of it’s ridiculous strength and durability it was used in satellite construction and armoured vehicles, and on the few space faring craft put together to explore, but that was it, as it was so heavy despite the fact it was relatively easy to craft, a block roughly a single square foot in size weighed close to two hundred and fifty kilograms. The weight of the suit if front of her must be staggering.
The head turned in her direction and a pair of blue optics glared at her from the shadows of the hood.
‘I would hide Vixen if I were you,’ a metallic voice growled from within to hood. ‘Things will get very messy, very soon. There are over four hundred basilisks in the area all of them are at least Archanglesi’.’
‘Who are you?’ Celeste demanded then she noticed a symbol on his armour.
‘You’re a Knight!’
‘I am,’ he answered. ‘Now hide, in that suit you’ll be nothing more than a hindrance. Here use this.’ Taking a camouflage device from what looked like a belt he threw it to her.
In that moment the mech was revealed to be a smaller suit restricted by a larger one, but it was little more than a glimpse so she couldn’t be certain.
Before she could ask the question however a titanic roar came from one of the basilisk commanders.
The winged one was in the open staring right at the knight; hatred and rage radiating from his eyes and wings, which Celeste now saw were made of shimmering blue energy.
‘WOLF!’ he screamed.
‘ISRAFIL!’ the Knight cried, delight evident in his voice. ‘Shall we resume my dear foe?’
His armour hissed, released a cloud of steam and the smaller suit was ejected from the larger.
Laughing he grabbed his slab of a sword, landed on the edge of the building and somersaulted into the air, landing on the ground making a crater on impact he looked at his foe and brought his sword to bear.
Wolf seemingly took a step forward as Israfil folded his wings about him, a god almighty crack resounded throughout the area as Wolf’s sword struck his foe’s wings having closed the gap instantly. Pushing hard against the folded wings Wolf was suddenly hurled into the air by the wings opening suddenly.
Bringing his sword around so it faced the ground Wolf braced it, just in time to receive several bolts of energy, which exploded with incredible force, forcing him further into the air, Israfil followed up with a beam of energy similar to the bolts except far stronger.
The synthetic muscles in Wolf’s right arm visibly expanded and flexed for a moment then he hurled his sword towards Israfil. The massive blade, spinning like a buzz saw, intercepted the beam and started cutting it in half, both sides going wide of their target and detonating with shocking power and giving off several waves of power.
Celeste was amazed by the vicious and titanic exchange that had just taken place. Then she received another shock; one so strange and unexpected she doubted her eyes. The Knight actually touched something solid in midair and used it to propel himself towards the ground and his foe.
Israfil created two large bladed stars from energy and hurled them at the descending Knight, who use his cloak to alter their path and slip by them, only to be face-to-face with the basilisk, who had, by now, drawn a white, glittering sword out of thin air, and was swinging it at his foe’s head.
The blow connected with the peal of a silver-toned bell, and the impact knocked the Knight into and through nearby wall and shattered it, even though it was reinforced and designed to withstand such damage.
The Knight was now lying face down with his cloak over his head, motionless.
By now Celeste’s rifle had charged for another shot, so she brought it up, drew bead on Israfil and fired. She figured it’d be useless but it galled her to let a male defend her.
The bolt hit the Seraphim, shattered and faded away in a cloud of shimmering dust. He turned, looked at her, and then he grinned, revealing two-inch long canine teeth, his eyes shimmered a feral metallic red as he raised his left hand extended his index and middle fingers.
She didn’t know what he was doing, but, she knew it wouldn’t be good, her instincts were telling her to move and they hadn’t been wrong before, so she did. Dropping her weapon she crossed her forearms and activated a psionic shield, a last line of defence that used a Vixen’s psychic abilities to create a barrier of energy to protect her from harm, although it left them totally exhausted afterwards.
As soon as it was erected two thin beams hit her and punched right through her shield, one pierced both her arms and right shoulder and the other grazed her head, tearing her helmet off and knocking her backwards.
The impact and damage from the beams coupled with the sudden loss of here shield dazed her; she tried to say something to quiet the screaming in her ears, but she couldn’t find her voice, it was all she could do to stay conscious.
‘Tsk-tsk, my aim was off,’ Israfil muttered. ‘Such a messy kill, no finesse to such things.’
Walking towards the building he intended to finish her, but he stopped after a few steps, sensing a change nearby. Evidently others felt in too as all the hiding basilisks started roaring and change into their war forms.
Then he saw it.
More than thirty Knights, a full platoon, were advancing towards the area, three, a single fire team, broke off and stopped, raising long-range weaponry, one pinpoint rifle and two missile systems.
The sniper dropped to one knee brought his weapon up drew bead on a basilisk that was almost transformed and fired a shell, shredding its lower body, the basilisk started to regenerate almost instantly, the knight followed up with another round, obliterating what was left, the he moved onto another basilisk as the two missile troopers finished setting up and launched their first salvo.
A dozen missiles streaked into the air, six from each pod, after gaining height they levelled, and travelled straight, in a close-knit group, until they were over the mass of creatures then they spread out, some to the side, others up, then they dropped and shattered, splitting into a six smaller rockets that homed in, two at a time, on a basilisk.
The rockets tore into the basilisks, collided and detonated leaving behind little more than charred chunks of flesh and great pools of the metallic orange ichor, which crumbled the walls and buildings nearby.
Another salvo followed the first, by which time the sniper had emptied several magazines and was now emptying his last one, as soon as it was the three Knights shouldered their empty weapons and headed back the way they came, their job done.
By now the main group of Knights had closed the gap between them and the basilisk strike guard, and had split into two groups, the larger group, two full squads, riflemen this time, raised their weapons, mostly assault rifles with a few support guns, and started firing, creating a hailstorm of fire and allowing the second group to advance without fear of a ranged attack.
Each of these Knights carried a shield, a melee weapon of some sort and a great sword strapped to the back of their Dragoon, they were also larger and more heavily armoured.
Plunging in between the buildings the Knights engaged the basilisks and scythed through their first ranks and then encountered the first fully transformed group. One in particular, blazing red and orange, charged forward with reckless abandon, swinging a massive axe with a crescent moon blade.
Israfil hissed in rage and spread his wings as if to take off, then he stopped suddenly, frozen in his tracks by shock, awe and fear.
‘You didn’t think I came without reinforcements did you Israfil?’ laughed the voice from underneath Wolf’s cloak. ‘Still I didn’t think I’d be out and they would have to roll in, but I also didn’t expect you to have the Prima Materia or that you’d be able to use it so well.’
Lifting himself up by his hands, Wolf supported himself with them for a few seconds and then flipped onto his feet and as he landed him helm fell to the ground with a clang, split cleanly in two.
The face that was revealed was striking, with metallic violet eyes, silver slitted pupils and white hair. Yet there was a certain cold, hardness to that face, only enhanced by a scar through the right eye.
‘I see you can use your eye once more,’ sneered the winged basilisk. ‘Next time I’ll rip the eye out, not just cut it.’
‘I doubt it,’ shrugged the Knight. ‘You won’t get many more chances.’ Wolf smiled enigmatically, it didn’t touch his eyes though. ‘Which is a shame as I rather enjoy our little dances.’
Cursing Israfil drew a long blood red spear out of the air and took a ready stance; Wolf did the same with his sword. Both of the stood there for a few moments, gauging how to strike best, how to avoid blows, how to counter and how to manoeuvre for a killing strike.
Before either could move however, a voice roared overhead, alluding to the real reason the basilisk were there. ‘Israfil! Withdraw! I have what I came for.’
Cursing the basilisk banished his weapon, then let out a piercing cry, signalling a retreat.
Suspecting a trick Wolf kept his weapon at the ready. ‘We’ll finish this another time Knight!’ spat the Seraphim. ‘When neither of us are encumbered with obligations.’ A single flap of his mighty wings lifted him into the air and another took him out of sight.
Scooping up his broken helm and slinging his mighty blade across his back, Wolf gazed around, then he remembered something, and leapt up to where he had left his Dragoon.
Dropping his helmet into his Dragoon, he touched a panel on the right arm of it, activating a pick up beacon, and then he switched his radio on and waited.
As expected several moments after he set off the beacon he was contacted. ‘What is it you require, sir? What has changed?’
‘I have need of a medical transport, equipped with my healing equipment,’ Wolf explained. ‘I have a wounded Vixen in need of urgent treatment, plus I’ll need a pick up for my Dragoon.’
‘Understood, sir, your Zephyr transport has been dispatched and will arrive shortly.’
‘What’s the ETA?’
‘As we are currently stationed nearby approximately 5 minutes, however it will take almost twenty to return as we are moving locations. We received damage when our force was recovered.’
‘And the current status of our troops?’
‘We sustained three casualties, one rifleman and two shock troopers. The rifleman lost on arm and both legs from a new strain of basilisk, suited to both close and long range combat. They successfully jettisoned from the mecha and were recovered. One shock trooper received light damage, lost their shield and weapon but was otherwise unharmed. The remaining mecha was destroyed, but the pilot managed to escape, she somehow managed to take down more than fifty enemy creatures in the process. She has been instructed to meet with you, as she is nearby, and receive pick up.’
‘So be it, Wolf out.’
After he ended his conversation he turned and walked over to Celeste to check her condition. It was worse than he feared, she had lost a great deal of blood, more than he had thought, and she was going into shock.
After a quick check he realised that she had only sustained three wounds, all of which were severe because of the nature of the beam that she had been hit with, and a slight concussion.
Having recovered her wits slightly she saw him checking her over and she must have reacted, as he looked her in the face.
‘I can help you survive until I can treat you properly, but I need your permission. Do I have it?’
She nodded slightly.
Wolf placed his fingers in the blood near the wound in her shoulder, then he smeared it on his lips and closed his eyes. His body started to glow and suddenly he leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips. Their saliva mixed and immediately the bleeding slowed.
Slowly it halted completely and she regained the ability to speak once more. ‘Who are you and what did you do to me?’
‘Two excellent questions, yet I can only fully answer one,’ replied Wolf, being surprisingly candid. ‘What I did to you, is simple. I shared some of my life energy with you. It will sustain you, not for long, but it will keep you alive til I can heal you. As for who I am, your guess is as good as mine, I can’t remember who or what I am.’
Shaking his head he sighed, ‘Whether you or those watching believe or not, is up to them or you. But I’d advise you to rest,’ he took the cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around her. ‘It will help.’
Taking his advice she closed her eyes and drifted into a doze, stirring only when he picked her up and again when someone approached.
‘She’s different from most Vixens isn’t she?’ asked the female who had just arrived. ‘Very different.’
‘Considering what they put them through, Phoenix,’ replied Wolf. ‘Is it surprising that most end up under developed in certain areas. And it’s the same drugs and muscle enhancements that bleach most of their colour. Whether that’s a blessing or not for her I don’t know.’
‘That’s true but vivid red? Is that normal?’ Phoenix wondered. ‘And what about those silver streaks? She can’t be more than twenty five.’
‘And her eyes are similar to mine I think except for the pupils,’ commented Wolf. ‘She’s an odd one for sure, but that aside. You wrecked another dragoon? How many is that now?’
‘Six,’ she replied sheepishly. ‘But I had to self-destruct. They would have gotten away otherwise.’
‘Christ girl, I don’t know why but I’ll leave my Dragoon in your hands,’ sighed Wolf. ‘When the transport gets here you bring it in and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t wreck it.’
Grumbling Phoenix strapped herself into the Dragoon as the whine of turbines filled the air, announcing the arrival of the Zephyr, a heavy, wide and heavily armoured craft disengaged the cloaking system and appeared several metres away from them.
Swinging around, it hovered a few feet from the edge of the building and lowered its loading ramp, revealing a slot for Wolf’s dragoon and four beds, three were average bunks the other was a medical table with several strange instruments almost like gauntlets with varying fingers and palms, on a rack next to it.
Laying the Vixen down Wolf examined the gauntlets while Phoenix sat the dragoon in it’s slot and climbed out as several robotic arms started cleaning and repairing it.
Sitting down Phoenix watched in fascination as Wolf anaesthetized the young woman, removed that last of her visor and communication equipment along with all her electrical gear and stripped her of her Styx armour, then cut the interface suit away from her arms and shoulders. Then he slipped a gauntlet, with nodules on the first finger and a small plate on the thumb, on to his right arm and a one with a solid hand and small glowing pads on its inner surface.
‘Phoenix get a blood pack out of that cool locker on the wall and insert it into her left arm,’ he ordered. ‘You’ll find a sterile needle in the drawer beneath it.’
After she had done as she was bid Phoenix felt Celeste’s arm for a moment, found a vein, then she inserted the needle and hung pack on a hook near the bed.
‘Thank you, now you get some rest too,’ he advised. ‘I know how much energy it takes to set a dragoon’s self-destruct off.’
Laying down Phoenix watched Wolf as he began healing the Vixen, cupping her left forearm with his padded hand and with his right hand he created a short beam of soft green light, from his index finger, and began purifying the cells and muscles around the wound, destroying the virus that was contained within the energy Israfil had fired at her. Using his thumb he spread a small field of healing energy, using his own life force to repair the damage done.
When he was done he noticed that his old friend was asleep, and smiled at a sudden thought, then he resumed his work.
After several minutes he had cleansed and healed the wound, then he moved on to the next wound, her right forearm. This one was more serious as it was the first point of impact on her body it had received the brunt of the virus and it had already started to destroy the cells in her arm replacing it with basilisk DNA, something he had never seen before.
Horrified, Wolf erected a barrier around the wound in her shoulder, halting the infection and giving him time to examine the virus.
It was a DNA virus he could tell that much by how thorough it was functioning but it was mutating too fast. It had already begun its cycle and as a result Celeste’s arm was starting to mutate, recording his findings Wolf began to work and work quickly. The whole cabin hold blazed with light as the work he raced to destroy the virus.
By the time he had finished purging the virus the Zephyr was approaching the Knight’s base. Watching from one of the viewing screens Wolf watched a massive battle ship appear, hovering almost six thousand metres in the air, having lowered to receive troop transports, was his pride and joy.
The Fenrir.
Almost ten thousand metres in length, three thousand wide at its widest point but only a thousand on average and weighing almost four and a half million tonnes, it was truly a flying fortress.
As expected of a military base it contained everything necessary to maintain a fully functioning combat force, which included ground, air and sea forces, as well as support equipment and transport. But in addition to this it was also a city with over one million inhabitants who supported the Knights or joined them if they so chose.
As they got closer Wolf noticed that several cannons and defensive armaments around the loading were little more than smoking scraps of metal, a testament to the basilisks cunning, they had been waiting for them to collect their troops.
Sighing Wolf pulled a case of panatela cigars from a small compartment on his suit, pulled one out and lit it up. ‘The bastards will pay for this,’ he swore. ‘Nobody harms my home!’
Rolling the cigar in his teeth he took a closer look with the cameras, the remembering something he moved back to the operating table. Taking several samples of the virus, to go with the notes, the second and perhaps more important purpose of the barrier, then he finished destroying it making sure no trace was left in her system.
Securing the samples in heavy and durable alloy case, with a hermetic, vacuum seal.
Sitting in on one of the beds he waited silently, occasionally releasing a plume of smoke, to join the small trail coming from the tip of his cigar. By the time the docking lights flashed he had finished and extinguished it in a nearby ashtray.
Then standing he stretched his muscles, just as the rear door opened and the cabin flooded with light and noise. Phoenix stirred a little, but otherwise she was in a sleep as deep as the Vixen, a testament to the energy she had expended in the short engagement, Celeste however groaned and writhed, visited by some phantasm of her past.
However it wasn’t to last in 2245 on September the 2nd on the three hundredth anniversary of the end of the second Great War a group appeared who were discontented with peace. They desired to see the world returned to a state of conflict, a group that desired nothing but chaos. The group called themselves Apocalipsa.
Taking their name from the Romanian language was done in attempt to reflect their structure and beliefs. They were in short a supernatural cult. Using genetic manipulation each member took on attributes of their chosen creature. The more powerful creatures namely, the triumvirate of supernatural lords commanded the forces. Vampires the undead lords, werewolves leaders of the lycanthropes and sorcerers commanding the spellcasters.
Due to their sudden strike and powerful abilities Apocalipsa was able to take control of over half the worlds strategic military points.
It didn’t take long for fighting to escalate into a full-scale war and things reached a stalemate. Apocalipsa while powerful was relatively small yet humanity even after centuries of peace still had over a billion troops to call upon.
2249 four years after the first engagement the earth was scorched. Both sides desperate for a resolution activated their respective super weapons. Chemical, biological and nuclear weapons devastated the planet, at least half of humanity died in the initial attacks and a further third died in the aftermath.
The majority of the world was damaged, unable to support life, due to the dangerous and life sapping energy that filled these areas, which in time became known as Styx Zones or “rivers” due the fact that anything that went in unprotected never came back, most living beings died within hours. Yet those that survived were warped by the energies in the rivers, some became different, safe unless you hurt them or interrupted them feeding on inanimate objects, stone, metal and the remaining ruins of humanity, the remainder became vicious things that hunted anything that moved.
Humanity adapted til it began to flourish once more, safe inside their “Havens” and it had progressed to a level almost on par with what it had been before its fall. However the world became ever more dangerous as a new breed of creature appeared, a creature that grew stronger with each kill as it absorbed the very energy produced at the moment a living being died. In addition to this the creature’s blood was lethal to most living things and could dissolve most natural materials, even the mere presence of them corrupted earth and living things. Due to this and their vicious nature they were dubbed “basilisks” after the ancient mythological creature.
Two organizations were created to combat this threat, the Specialist Styx Forces, which filled most militaristic rolls outside the havens of humanity, and the scouts, assassins and true Special Forces, Shadow Vixens, psionically capable and genetically enhanced humans capable of extraordinary feats, but due to the nature of the enhancements a solely female force.
Humanity had arrived once more at a state of peace, ruled by a single woman called the Speaker; she was assisted by an advisor from each “Haven” who acted in place of the various ministers in a regular government. However this unification was also its weakness, it closed itself off to new ideas and forward thinking, advancing only in predetermined paths set down by the Speaker, her advisors and select elements of society.
Those who did not conform to their closed views were cast out and left to fend for themselves. With a great deal of luck and some assistance from sympathetic sources those who were cast out managed to survive in their hostile environment, to truly survive however they had to salvage relics from the War of Chaos quad Ruina. Ancient and powerful mechanoid suits of armour the size of a building, called Dragoons. Soon these outcasts became know as Knights, due to their Dragoons and their code of honour, “Help those who require it, protect those who are cast out and guard those you care for”.
Over the past two hundred years stability has been achieved, the Haven’s are almost free of turmoil, the basilisks became quiet and the Knights are preparing. The planet is hushed and waiting, something is coming, something that will rock the world to its very foundations.
A shimmering dot appeared, then nothing. She checked her visor, to make sure it was functioning properly, satisfied that it was she wondered what had set it off. It couldn’t be, the basilisk she was hunting. The creature was too blood drunk to approach quietly enough for her not to hear it, and it had absorbed to much death energy to avoid her sensors. So what had set her motion detector off?
She reached out with her mind and she felt it, it was faint but she knew it was what had been sighted and it was too close. And it was completely calm.
Switching from plain view to thermal it sprang into view, and it was then she realised that something was wrong. This wasn’t a second tier basilisk, as the grades were designated, the higher the tier the more dangerous, the more intelligent and the more human a form it could assume, this one was a fourth tier or higher, an almost perfect replica of a human, at least in hiding, with a disguise. Or at least that was what current research had established.
When it began killing or fighting it normally transformed into a form suited solely for death and destruction with the creatures personality dictating how it looked and how it killed. Although it was unknown to get to so high a tier, they were supposedly killed long before that.
Pulling her EM Flechette cannon under cover she made sure her cloak was covering her, she clicked her radio on.
‘This is Shadow Vixen, Frejya, target was misidentified, I say again target was misidentified, over,’ she said into a radio at her throat, her voice was dry and harsh from anxiety and fear. She didn’t know if she could kill one this powerful.
‘Say again Frejya? Misidentified, how? The SSF were certain it was a tier two when it left the safe zone. And that was only two days ago,’ replied a horrified voice at the other end, Frejya’s contact and handler, Gefion. ‘How is this possible? Are you sure? What tier is it now?’
‘I don’t know Gef I think it’s a tier six, at least, if they get that high, in thermal it looks almost human,’ Frejya said, hoping the basilisk couldn’t see, sense or hear her under her protective cloak. ‘I’m not sure, my instruments can’t get a clear read on it.’
‘How close is it Frejya? What are the differences?’
‘It has a pair of wings, that’s all.’
‘Wings? No other basilisk has had wings.’
‘What do I do Gef? I can’t handle this one alone, even with this new cannon. At least I don’t think so not that high.’
Gefion went silent for several minutes, ‘ Shadow Vixen Frejya, The Assembly has ordered you to observe it’s movement and wait until the Special Zone Operatives arrive to assist you in terminating it,’ she said biting off every word.
Frejya was silent, taken aback, what she had been ordered to do was tantamount to suicide, even a squadron of Vixens couldn’t hold for long against a tier four, and now she was being ordered to stand alone against one of the most powerful Basilisks every encountered.
‘I’m sorry Frey, the Speaker herself ordered it, I can’t do anything about it, I’m so sorry.’
She sat there in her little hide, in a state of shock, she tried to ask Gefion a question several time but her voice was gone, it wasn’t until several more dots appeared on her radar that she snapped back to reality.
Setting up her weapon once more she looked trough the scope switching to thermal as he radar was only showing intermittent flashes, she saw almost a dozen of zone creatures approach the first, each similar to a human with only a few differences, some had horns, some hade elongated limbs and claws, some had spines, but all of the bore a great resemblance to a human in overall shape. The remaining additions could be concealed or explained
Tapping a few buttons on small control pad on her wrist Frejya activated a small camera in her visor.
‘Please tell me your receiving this Gef,’ Frejya whispered, the shock and fear evident in her voice.
After a momentary pause, ‘I can see it Frey but I don’t believe it,’ she went silent for a few seconds. ‘Frey, engage the directional microphone in your visor.’ Frejya attached an object three inches long to the barrel of her rifle and touched a sensor pad below her ear. ‘Give me a moment.’ Noise filled her earpiece, for a few seconds, and then several words broke through.
‘Should…have…Angelisi…here?’ a strange two toned gravely voice said. ‘If…Knights…about…trouble.’
‘Adjusting signal strength,’ Gefion whispered.
Suddenly the voices came into shocking clarity.
‘No Termita,’ a calm slow voice, much like a river given voice, said. ‘There are no Knights nearby. The mechanical suits they use give off too much ‘Life’ to remain hidden from me.’
‘Certainly the Knights are troublesome,’ said a sibilant, lilting voice. ‘But what of the Vixens, and the SSF soldiers? They are many, and they are getting stronger.’
Debate broke out among the last to arrive the first folded it’s arms, ‘Your paranoia is amazing. Those that dwell in the Havens will not be a problem they do not understand their potential and even if they did they will not last long enough to use it. Those wandering vagabond Knights are the only real problem we have to worry about. The zone dwellers can only destroy a berserk Dominatas at best, what they call a tier four.’
‘Angelic rankings?’ Gefion whispered to herself, forgetting what was going on. ‘From the old religions? They faded out over two centuries ago.’
‘Each of you is a Thronos and yet you worry so?’ the winged one’s voice was deep, sure, and melodic, yet it contained such darkness and hatred. ‘And you can command the elements, the very foundations of the world, when He awakens your latent abilities you will be able to use them, bend them to your will.’
‘What of the harbinger Lord Israfil? He has the power to injure a Seraphim such as yourself…?’ the sibilant voice whispered the fear evident.
Israfil reached up to touch his face, ‘Yes he is dangerous; perhaps he can stop us if he had it. But it was lost.’
‘That thing! Is a tier nine!’ Gefion gibbered, her voice nothing more than a croak in her terror. ‘Gods help us all.’
Shaking himself he looked around. ‘Even though the Vixens can do nothing I still dislike being spied upon. Arzev,’ one of the spined and tailed basilisks stepped forward, ‘Take care of it will you?’
‘At once lord.’
Stepping into view from the decrepit building it had been meeting in, Frejya switched her scope back to normal vision and it came into view.
It stood around seven feet tall with three-inch spines running down it’s spine, a four foot long tail and a frame like a brick wall.
Crouching it leapt to the top of the building it had been in, sweeping it’s head from side to side it saw her, extending it’s tail it braced itself to jump.
Suddenly everything slowed to a crawl for Frejya, she just stared at the basilisk through her crosshairs, saw the maniac grin split its face, the razor sharp teeth that filled it’s mouth and knew she was staring death in the face.
She became aware of the screaming in her earpiece. ‘What are you doing!?’ Gefion screamed. ‘Celeste, fire dammit, FIRE!’
The use of her real name jolted her into action bracing her legs and back against the wall of the hide she pulled the trigger.
The recoil of the rifle and the energy flash it produced tore up the ground near the muzzle and the edge of the hide, but the rifle itself produced a three-foot long spear shaped bolt of electro magnetic energy that could punch through almost three metres of most of the strongest alloys known, supposedly shred the hide of a tier four basilisk and had a lethal range of four kilometres, it was the peak of weapons development for the Assembly, there was currently only one working prototype in existence.
Moving as she moved to avoid a chest shot, the bolt hit the basilisk in the shoulder where it had created larger heavier plates, almost like shields, and it tore right through the plates and ripped the arm off.
Silvery orange ichor, which started to dissolve the concrete of the building roof, giving off a noxious miasma as it did so, spurted from the torn dark red wound where the basilisk’s arm had been. It stared at the space where it’s arm had been, the it screamed, half in insane rage and half in pain.
As it screamed it’s shape started to warp, the sound of cracking bones and tearing muscle filled the air. It was starting it’s transformation, and she knew it’d likely finish before her weapon had recharged for another shot.
Before it got more than halfway through it’s transformation though something came from the sky like a hammer of god and landed on the creature crushing it and putting a seven-foot long slab of a sword through the monster.
Standing on top of the remains of the Thronos, sword protruding from the beast’s chest was a nine-foot tall Dragoon. It had a cloak wrapped about it’s shoulders, one that was similar to the one Celeste now wore, except it masked everything from heat, to motion, to life energy and even to the eye.
The hood was pulled up and all she could see of the helmet was a foot long horn protruding from, she assumed, the forehead. The horn and what was actually visible of the armour, revealed that it had no solid colour showing that the metal hadn’t been painted but rather had been left the raw shifting colour of the alloy from which it was made, a super dense, durable, energy absorbing metal, Orichalcum.
Because of it’s ridiculous strength and durability it was used in satellite construction and armoured vehicles, and on the few space faring craft put together to explore, but that was it, as it was so heavy despite the fact it was relatively easy to craft, a block roughly a single square foot in size weighed close to two hundred and fifty kilograms. The weight of the suit if front of her must be staggering.
The head turned in her direction and a pair of blue optics glared at her from the shadows of the hood.
‘I would hide Vixen if I were you,’ a metallic voice growled from within to hood. ‘Things will get very messy, very soon. There are over four hundred basilisks in the area all of them are at least Archanglesi’.’
‘Who are you?’ Celeste demanded then she noticed a symbol on his armour.
‘You’re a Knight!’
‘I am,’ he answered. ‘Now hide, in that suit you’ll be nothing more than a hindrance. Here use this.’ Taking a camouflage device from what looked like a belt he threw it to her.
In that moment the mech was revealed to be a smaller suit restricted by a larger one, but it was little more than a glimpse so she couldn’t be certain.
Before she could ask the question however a titanic roar came from one of the basilisk commanders.
The winged one was in the open staring right at the knight; hatred and rage radiating from his eyes and wings, which Celeste now saw were made of shimmering blue energy.
‘WOLF!’ he screamed.
‘ISRAFIL!’ the Knight cried, delight evident in his voice. ‘Shall we resume my dear foe?’
His armour hissed, released a cloud of steam and the smaller suit was ejected from the larger.
Laughing he grabbed his slab of a sword, landed on the edge of the building and somersaulted into the air, landing on the ground making a crater on impact he looked at his foe and brought his sword to bear.
Wolf seemingly took a step forward as Israfil folded his wings about him, a god almighty crack resounded throughout the area as Wolf’s sword struck his foe’s wings having closed the gap instantly. Pushing hard against the folded wings Wolf was suddenly hurled into the air by the wings opening suddenly.
Bringing his sword around so it faced the ground Wolf braced it, just in time to receive several bolts of energy, which exploded with incredible force, forcing him further into the air, Israfil followed up with a beam of energy similar to the bolts except far stronger.
The synthetic muscles in Wolf’s right arm visibly expanded and flexed for a moment then he hurled his sword towards Israfil. The massive blade, spinning like a buzz saw, intercepted the beam and started cutting it in half, both sides going wide of their target and detonating with shocking power and giving off several waves of power.
Celeste was amazed by the vicious and titanic exchange that had just taken place. Then she received another shock; one so strange and unexpected she doubted her eyes. The Knight actually touched something solid in midair and used it to propel himself towards the ground and his foe.
Israfil created two large bladed stars from energy and hurled them at the descending Knight, who use his cloak to alter their path and slip by them, only to be face-to-face with the basilisk, who had, by now, drawn a white, glittering sword out of thin air, and was swinging it at his foe’s head.
The blow connected with the peal of a silver-toned bell, and the impact knocked the Knight into and through nearby wall and shattered it, even though it was reinforced and designed to withstand such damage.
The Knight was now lying face down with his cloak over his head, motionless.
By now Celeste’s rifle had charged for another shot, so she brought it up, drew bead on Israfil and fired. She figured it’d be useless but it galled her to let a male defend her.
The bolt hit the Seraphim, shattered and faded away in a cloud of shimmering dust. He turned, looked at her, and then he grinned, revealing two-inch long canine teeth, his eyes shimmered a feral metallic red as he raised his left hand extended his index and middle fingers.
She didn’t know what he was doing, but, she knew it wouldn’t be good, her instincts were telling her to move and they hadn’t been wrong before, so she did. Dropping her weapon she crossed her forearms and activated a psionic shield, a last line of defence that used a Vixen’s psychic abilities to create a barrier of energy to protect her from harm, although it left them totally exhausted afterwards.
As soon as it was erected two thin beams hit her and punched right through her shield, one pierced both her arms and right shoulder and the other grazed her head, tearing her helmet off and knocking her backwards.
The impact and damage from the beams coupled with the sudden loss of here shield dazed her; she tried to say something to quiet the screaming in her ears, but she couldn’t find her voice, it was all she could do to stay conscious.
‘Tsk-tsk, my aim was off,’ Israfil muttered. ‘Such a messy kill, no finesse to such things.’
Walking towards the building he intended to finish her, but he stopped after a few steps, sensing a change nearby. Evidently others felt in too as all the hiding basilisks started roaring and change into their war forms.
Then he saw it.
More than thirty Knights, a full platoon, were advancing towards the area, three, a single fire team, broke off and stopped, raising long-range weaponry, one pinpoint rifle and two missile systems.
The sniper dropped to one knee brought his weapon up drew bead on a basilisk that was almost transformed and fired a shell, shredding its lower body, the basilisk started to regenerate almost instantly, the knight followed up with another round, obliterating what was left, the he moved onto another basilisk as the two missile troopers finished setting up and launched their first salvo.
A dozen missiles streaked into the air, six from each pod, after gaining height they levelled, and travelled straight, in a close-knit group, until they were over the mass of creatures then they spread out, some to the side, others up, then they dropped and shattered, splitting into a six smaller rockets that homed in, two at a time, on a basilisk.
The rockets tore into the basilisks, collided and detonated leaving behind little more than charred chunks of flesh and great pools of the metallic orange ichor, which crumbled the walls and buildings nearby.
Another salvo followed the first, by which time the sniper had emptied several magazines and was now emptying his last one, as soon as it was the three Knights shouldered their empty weapons and headed back the way they came, their job done.
By now the main group of Knights had closed the gap between them and the basilisk strike guard, and had split into two groups, the larger group, two full squads, riflemen this time, raised their weapons, mostly assault rifles with a few support guns, and started firing, creating a hailstorm of fire and allowing the second group to advance without fear of a ranged attack.
Each of these Knights carried a shield, a melee weapon of some sort and a great sword strapped to the back of their Dragoon, they were also larger and more heavily armoured.
Plunging in between the buildings the Knights engaged the basilisks and scythed through their first ranks and then encountered the first fully transformed group. One in particular, blazing red and orange, charged forward with reckless abandon, swinging a massive axe with a crescent moon blade.
Israfil hissed in rage and spread his wings as if to take off, then he stopped suddenly, frozen in his tracks by shock, awe and fear.
‘You didn’t think I came without reinforcements did you Israfil?’ laughed the voice from underneath Wolf’s cloak. ‘Still I didn’t think I’d be out and they would have to roll in, but I also didn’t expect you to have the Prima Materia or that you’d be able to use it so well.’
Lifting himself up by his hands, Wolf supported himself with them for a few seconds and then flipped onto his feet and as he landed him helm fell to the ground with a clang, split cleanly in two.
The face that was revealed was striking, with metallic violet eyes, silver slitted pupils and white hair. Yet there was a certain cold, hardness to that face, only enhanced by a scar through the right eye.
‘I see you can use your eye once more,’ sneered the winged basilisk. ‘Next time I’ll rip the eye out, not just cut it.’
‘I doubt it,’ shrugged the Knight. ‘You won’t get many more chances.’ Wolf smiled enigmatically, it didn’t touch his eyes though. ‘Which is a shame as I rather enjoy our little dances.’
Cursing Israfil drew a long blood red spear out of the air and took a ready stance; Wolf did the same with his sword. Both of the stood there for a few moments, gauging how to strike best, how to avoid blows, how to counter and how to manoeuvre for a killing strike.
Before either could move however, a voice roared overhead, alluding to the real reason the basilisk were there. ‘Israfil! Withdraw! I have what I came for.’
Cursing the basilisk banished his weapon, then let out a piercing cry, signalling a retreat.
Suspecting a trick Wolf kept his weapon at the ready. ‘We’ll finish this another time Knight!’ spat the Seraphim. ‘When neither of us are encumbered with obligations.’ A single flap of his mighty wings lifted him into the air and another took him out of sight.
Scooping up his broken helm and slinging his mighty blade across his back, Wolf gazed around, then he remembered something, and leapt up to where he had left his Dragoon.
Dropping his helmet into his Dragoon, he touched a panel on the right arm of it, activating a pick up beacon, and then he switched his radio on and waited.
As expected several moments after he set off the beacon he was contacted. ‘What is it you require, sir? What has changed?’
‘I have need of a medical transport, equipped with my healing equipment,’ Wolf explained. ‘I have a wounded Vixen in need of urgent treatment, plus I’ll need a pick up for my Dragoon.’
‘Understood, sir, your Zephyr transport has been dispatched and will arrive shortly.’
‘What’s the ETA?’
‘As we are currently stationed nearby approximately 5 minutes, however it will take almost twenty to return as we are moving locations. We received damage when our force was recovered.’
‘And the current status of our troops?’
‘We sustained three casualties, one rifleman and two shock troopers. The rifleman lost on arm and both legs from a new strain of basilisk, suited to both close and long range combat. They successfully jettisoned from the mecha and were recovered. One shock trooper received light damage, lost their shield and weapon but was otherwise unharmed. The remaining mecha was destroyed, but the pilot managed to escape, she somehow managed to take down more than fifty enemy creatures in the process. She has been instructed to meet with you, as she is nearby, and receive pick up.’
‘So be it, Wolf out.’
After he ended his conversation he turned and walked over to Celeste to check her condition. It was worse than he feared, she had lost a great deal of blood, more than he had thought, and she was going into shock.
After a quick check he realised that she had only sustained three wounds, all of which were severe because of the nature of the beam that she had been hit with, and a slight concussion.
Having recovered her wits slightly she saw him checking her over and she must have reacted, as he looked her in the face.
‘I can help you survive until I can treat you properly, but I need your permission. Do I have it?’
She nodded slightly.
Wolf placed his fingers in the blood near the wound in her shoulder, then he smeared it on his lips and closed his eyes. His body started to glow and suddenly he leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips. Their saliva mixed and immediately the bleeding slowed.
Slowly it halted completely and she regained the ability to speak once more. ‘Who are you and what did you do to me?’
‘Two excellent questions, yet I can only fully answer one,’ replied Wolf, being surprisingly candid. ‘What I did to you, is simple. I shared some of my life energy with you. It will sustain you, not for long, but it will keep you alive til I can heal you. As for who I am, your guess is as good as mine, I can’t remember who or what I am.’
Shaking his head he sighed, ‘Whether you or those watching believe or not, is up to them or you. But I’d advise you to rest,’ he took the cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around her. ‘It will help.’
Taking his advice she closed her eyes and drifted into a doze, stirring only when he picked her up and again when someone approached.
‘She’s different from most Vixens isn’t she?’ asked the female who had just arrived. ‘Very different.’
‘Considering what they put them through, Phoenix,’ replied Wolf. ‘Is it surprising that most end up under developed in certain areas. And it’s the same drugs and muscle enhancements that bleach most of their colour. Whether that’s a blessing or not for her I don’t know.’
‘That’s true but vivid red? Is that normal?’ Phoenix wondered. ‘And what about those silver streaks? She can’t be more than twenty five.’
‘And her eyes are similar to mine I think except for the pupils,’ commented Wolf. ‘She’s an odd one for sure, but that aside. You wrecked another dragoon? How many is that now?’
‘Six,’ she replied sheepishly. ‘But I had to self-destruct. They would have gotten away otherwise.’
‘Christ girl, I don’t know why but I’ll leave my Dragoon in your hands,’ sighed Wolf. ‘When the transport gets here you bring it in and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t wreck it.’
Grumbling Phoenix strapped herself into the Dragoon as the whine of turbines filled the air, announcing the arrival of the Zephyr, a heavy, wide and heavily armoured craft disengaged the cloaking system and appeared several metres away from them.
Swinging around, it hovered a few feet from the edge of the building and lowered its loading ramp, revealing a slot for Wolf’s dragoon and four beds, three were average bunks the other was a medical table with several strange instruments almost like gauntlets with varying fingers and palms, on a rack next to it.
Laying the Vixen down Wolf examined the gauntlets while Phoenix sat the dragoon in it’s slot and climbed out as several robotic arms started cleaning and repairing it.
Sitting down Phoenix watched in fascination as Wolf anaesthetized the young woman, removed that last of her visor and communication equipment along with all her electrical gear and stripped her of her Styx armour, then cut the interface suit away from her arms and shoulders. Then he slipped a gauntlet, with nodules on the first finger and a small plate on the thumb, on to his right arm and a one with a solid hand and small glowing pads on its inner surface.
‘Phoenix get a blood pack out of that cool locker on the wall and insert it into her left arm,’ he ordered. ‘You’ll find a sterile needle in the drawer beneath it.’
After she had done as she was bid Phoenix felt Celeste’s arm for a moment, found a vein, then she inserted the needle and hung pack on a hook near the bed.
‘Thank you, now you get some rest too,’ he advised. ‘I know how much energy it takes to set a dragoon’s self-destruct off.’
Laying down Phoenix watched Wolf as he began healing the Vixen, cupping her left forearm with his padded hand and with his right hand he created a short beam of soft green light, from his index finger, and began purifying the cells and muscles around the wound, destroying the virus that was contained within the energy Israfil had fired at her. Using his thumb he spread a small field of healing energy, using his own life force to repair the damage done.
When he was done he noticed that his old friend was asleep, and smiled at a sudden thought, then he resumed his work.
After several minutes he had cleansed and healed the wound, then he moved on to the next wound, her right forearm. This one was more serious as it was the first point of impact on her body it had received the brunt of the virus and it had already started to destroy the cells in her arm replacing it with basilisk DNA, something he had never seen before.
Horrified, Wolf erected a barrier around the wound in her shoulder, halting the infection and giving him time to examine the virus.
It was a DNA virus he could tell that much by how thorough it was functioning but it was mutating too fast. It had already begun its cycle and as a result Celeste’s arm was starting to mutate, recording his findings Wolf began to work and work quickly. The whole cabin hold blazed with light as the work he raced to destroy the virus.
By the time he had finished purging the virus the Zephyr was approaching the Knight’s base. Watching from one of the viewing screens Wolf watched a massive battle ship appear, hovering almost six thousand metres in the air, having lowered to receive troop transports, was his pride and joy.
The Fenrir.
Almost ten thousand metres in length, three thousand wide at its widest point but only a thousand on average and weighing almost four and a half million tonnes, it was truly a flying fortress.
As expected of a military base it contained everything necessary to maintain a fully functioning combat force, which included ground, air and sea forces, as well as support equipment and transport. But in addition to this it was also a city with over one million inhabitants who supported the Knights or joined them if they so chose.
As they got closer Wolf noticed that several cannons and defensive armaments around the loading were little more than smoking scraps of metal, a testament to the basilisks cunning, they had been waiting for them to collect their troops.
Sighing Wolf pulled a case of panatela cigars from a small compartment on his suit, pulled one out and lit it up. ‘The bastards will pay for this,’ he swore. ‘Nobody harms my home!’
Rolling the cigar in his teeth he took a closer look with the cameras, the remembering something he moved back to the operating table. Taking several samples of the virus, to go with the notes, the second and perhaps more important purpose of the barrier, then he finished destroying it making sure no trace was left in her system.
Securing the samples in heavy and durable alloy case, with a hermetic, vacuum seal.
Sitting in on one of the beds he waited silently, occasionally releasing a plume of smoke, to join the small trail coming from the tip of his cigar. By the time the docking lights flashed he had finished and extinguished it in a nearby ashtray.
Then standing he stretched his muscles, just as the rear door opened and the cabin flooded with light and noise. Phoenix stirred a little, but otherwise she was in a sleep as deep as the Vixen, a testament to the energy she had expended in the short engagement, Celeste however groaned and writhed, visited by some phantasm of her past.
