He's been left to die on an inhospitable world, surrounded by criminals and enemy forces. Enough is enough, and Walters doesn't care who knows it.
miércoles, 28 de diciembre de 2011
SDIV Chapter Nine Pt2
Flagship Unknown Location
Shan smiled as he entered the small room. Three Ori sat in front of a large table, upon which were clearly defined a series of red-lined zones. Small figurines populated each zone, with others ranked in front of the respective players. Holographic screens hung before them and a heated debate was in progress. It was all too easy.
“You cannot change the rules now,” snarled one, “even if two of the zones have become one. No more dice rolls for you. It´s my turn.”
“But you cheated,” whined another, “you have extra pieces, undeclared pieces, which are effecting the game. I need a judgement!”
With this he whirled to the third member at the table, who seemed somewhat aloof.
“My decision is that they are valid. No one controls them. Something which has never been seen for ages. It will add a little sparkle to the Game!”
“Enough!” roared Shan, indicating for his men to fan out and secure the room, “There is a new player in town, and I will decide what is right or not!”
“Who are you to…?”
The unfortunate Ori never finished his sentence as Shan drew his pistol and shot him. He kicked the corpse aside, twisting the chair around and resting his crossed feet on the table.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “as I said, the Game has changed…anyone else care to argue?”
There was no reply as Shan flicked his finger across the holoscreen.
“This,” he said, “is the one time that I hold all of the cards.”
Zone II Unknown Location
Silence reigned within the cave, except for the dripping of a small rivulet of water onto the slime-covered rock below. The peace was broken by a grating, screeching sound and the weed-entwined grill covering the cave’s mouth strained upwards.
Inside something stirred; a grumbling, groaning noise followed by a muted growl. A large red-clawed hand grasped the bottom of the grill and heaved, tearing it free from its green restraints. A cloven hoof was planted outside as the creature twisted its body back into the cave, looking for something.
Finally it emerged, a huge axe in its right hand, flames jumping between the horns on its hideous head. Twin rows of serrated teeth were opened, and a deep, bass laugh rang out. It ripped free the pistol from the holster on its hip and fired into the surrounding vegetation, the explosive round smashing a nearby rock into dust.
“Death and destruction!” it roared, following the strange bobbing light which appeared. It always brought satisfaction.
Ruined City Zone II
Inspector Burton rolled groggily to his feet, spitting out a mix of dirt and blood. He had been left in an untidy heap, behind some sheltering rubble. Tapping on his communication link, he heard the faint hiss of its operation and spoke rapidly into it, “Sargeant, report!”
“Sir!” responded Harms, “You are alive, thank the Prelate!”
“Yes, indeed, Sargeant,” replied Burton scanning the area, “what is your position, can you see me?”
“No, sir. We had to take a detour around the back of the Taurans, fighting our way through. We should be close to you in a few minutes.”
In fact, the Sargeant was perched on slightly raised wall, hidden from the Inspector’s view.
“Be careful, when you get here." said Burton, "That magician and his follower are around. They have already tried to attack me once, although I did fight them off.”
Harms stifled a laugh.
“What’s that? Sargeant!”
“Sorry, Sir,” replied Harms, “had to cough, we’ll be with you shortly. Out!”
Just in front of him sat the ‘magician’ and his follower. Laughing to himself, the Sargeant waved his men forward.
Grishak stopped and sniffed the air. The first fight had been disappointing; one or two poorly equipped humans had tried to stand against him, their strange and antiquated armour proving little challenge. Now though, he could smell fresh blood and death. The familiar odours of burnt flesh and recently spilled guts drew him on.
His ears had heard cries in praise of his own Demon God and he knew he was close. Parting some annoying branches with his axe, he saw the city in front of him, starkly highlighted by burning buildings. The sound of rifle fire flowed like music to his starved and twisted soul.
Roaring his challenge he burst through the non-existent barrier and entered the streets, a startled group of Church soldiers turning to fire at him. This was more like it, he thought as he charged on, here there would at least be sport and without doubt death to glorify his name.
The first swing of his axe sent a head spinning into the air, his pistol firing indiscriminately into the mass of bodies before him. There would be time later to educate the Taurans to his identity, but for now there was war.
Inspector Burton had managed to round up a few recalcitrant troops; it was necessary to instil a little discipline into one or two of them, but that was why he was here. He had just ordered the troops to remove the still warm bodies, when the beast had attacked. Up until now, they had not seen one such as he, but there was no mistaking the Tauran Elite.
“Kill it!” he screamed, firing his pistol as an example and a ragged volley of rifle fire lashed out in response. Nothing seemed to affect the Tauran, as it shrugged off the weapons fire and ploughed into the Church soldiers.
Harms and his men had come up to Cornelius’ position unseen and the vain attempts of the strangely dressed man to swing his sword had been quickly suppressed. A rifle butt to the jaw had calmed him down. It was as Butt responded to their attack that Grishak slammed into the Inspector and his men. Sargeant Harms ignored Butt, quickly ordering his men into position. His Sniper, Burns, snapped off a shot which ricocheted off one of the creature’s horns, but did nothing more than infuriate it and give away their position.
As the huge beast turned to begin its assault of Harms’ men, he heard the strangest of sounds, Butt was laughing.