The World of Nabushan had forever been changed by the Burning Calamity, a lush world once filled with forests, jungles and vast oceans, now reduced to a dying husk, a former shadow of itself. The vast cities that dotted the surface, now buried under great seas of sand and dirt, or are slowly consumed by the unnatural storms that wreck the Wastelands. But, even over many centuries, life goes on, although struggling through great hardships, it goes on nonetheless. This is too true for those that live life out in the Great Wastes, home to few scavenger communities, their lifeblood being the discovery of valuable loot, be it from resurfacing cityscapes, or more importantly, Space Hulks. Space Hulks are starships that had fallen from orbit, be it before or after the Calamity, it matters not, these down ships, over the centuries were buried in the sands like everything else, all the valuable and relativity intact treasures sealed within for an uncertain amount of time.

But just like the ruins, the hulks do not stay buried for long, and eventually resurface. The Discovery of Space Hulks is always both a momentous occasion and often times, a tense one. Once word spreads that a Space Hulk has been found, many will no doubt converge onto it's location. Both offering great rewards, as well as bloody conflict. The Oasis States have often participated in hunting down these marvels of lost technology, and often would send armies to hold and secure them. To no surprise, wars have been fought over to loot the hulks dry of all useful technology, occasionally ending with no clear victor. And very soon, this will repeat once more.

Somewhere in the Great Wastes....Some weeks before
A lone big-wheeled dune buggy was traversing the Southern Wastes, a more rugged, rocky, if still sandy region of the Great Wastes.Atop the more open space of the buggy was a small collection of rusted out items and parts, all strapped together by several ropes, barely holding on to the vehicle and were on the verge of falling out. Inside the vehicle were three human individuals, the driver, a young woman in her early twenties, and the two male passengers, appearing not too much older then the young woman. They all held firmly to their seats as they drove through the rocky wastes, all had rather somber expressions upon their faces. "It aint' much." One of the men spoke up, trying to lighten the mood. "But it's better then nothing and got out alive to boot."

"So damn close." The woman spoke up. "That buried town was a gold mine, fucking raiders.." She spat out the window, snarling. "We could've been set up good! Live out in some Oasis Town, the good life!"

The second man spoke. "Well, we can at least get a good meal after this."

"That much is true." The other said. "I need a grot stew."

"Someday..." the woman mumbled, her foul mood however would take a different turn as she had spotted something on the horizon, squinting her eyes, she spotted a large brown mass that was quickly on approach. "Sandstorm!" the others jumped in a panic to her cries. "Get us in cover!"

"I'm trying!" the bugger sped even faster through the rough terrain, trying too find shelter from the impending storm. Salvation came as several particularly tall rocks stood in their path. "Thank the gods!" she shouted as they sped towards their barrier. And like that, they sat they sat there, waiting for the storm to pass over, outside, they could barely see a thing, now covered in an endless stream of sand. Some hours pass, the storming finally dying down as they could clear see the landscape once again, much to their relief. The trio resume their journey back home, the situation howver would change moreso as they left their cover, only to discover something truly wonderful. "Oh my gods..." the woman said. The buggy halting once more, the scavenger trio stepping out of their vehicle.

"I'll be damned...we just found a hulk of all things..."

The uncaring winds of the massive sand storm had uncovered a grand space hulk unlike anything seen since the Cataclysm. It now lays open for the taking...but what lies within?

(A Spleen x Monkey collab)


"Oh shit." Seeker Cordelia couldn't help but mutter as she and her companion, Keeper Fytch, entered the small meeting room. Normally the room wouldn't possess anything interesting. The square shaped, thirty square foot room, was dominated by a large round table. Biege colored walls and carpets were sure to be quickly forgotten once out of sight. There were a few windows that granted the room's occupants a rather unremarkable view of the capital city of the Union. Oh and there was the body of a young woman lying on the table.

One might say it wasn't exactly rare for a Seeker agent to be found dead. It was a dangerous job after all. What was strange was that the body was inside the Capitol building of the Union. The state of the body was also far from what one would consider normal.

"Let's see here" Fytch commented with a casual tone as he approached the table. He pointedly ignored everyone else in the room as he gazed at the body. "This..." He glanced at a photo in his hand before looking back at the body, "definitely looks like Seeker Marissa."

Even in death Marissa was a beauty, the likes of which few others could match. Cordelia found that her beauty was perhaps enhanced further by the serene expression on her now lifeless face. In stark contrast to her unmared face was the grutesque state of her body. Her body rested on the table spread eagle, all of her clothes removed. Someone had taken the time to carefully remove the skin from her breasts, shoulders, and the bottoms of her feet. Her stomach had been torn open, her guts ripped out and left only partially removed from her body. Cordelia struggled to keep a wave of bile from forcefully exiting from her mouth.

"Who... would do something like this?" Cordelia muttered. "Its like someone... staged her."

"Probably some spurned lover." Fytch sounded like he blamed the woman for her own death.

"I don't see any signs of a struggle" Cordelia commented as she looked around. "Perhaps she was killed elsewhere and-"

Fytch made a loud snorting sound. "There's blood in the back corner over there." He gestured toward the corner with his chin before turning his attention back to Marissa's corpse. "Now why don't you be a good girl, stay out of my way, and not blow anything important up."

Cordelia shot Fytch a scowl before heading towards the corner, immediately noticing a small spatching of blood. The stain had an unusual straight edge to it, as if something square, that was no longer present, had been placed on the floor. Noticing another stain, this one definitely not blood, Cordelia knelt down.

Outside the room was a gathering crowd of senators, all formulating rumors as to the cause. Keeping them from the scene were the guards, whos now tarnished reputation of keeping peace was drawing increased scrutiny. They continued to weather the onslaught of insults until a loud voice sounded, burning silence into the minds of the mob.

"Where is Marissa!" a masculine voice sounded, prompting many to turn towards it. From a small set of steps rushed President Gibson.

"Where is she!" he shouted as the crowd made room for him. It seemed in an instant their cries of anger had turned to sorrow as the President forced his way into the room.

His initial reaction to this horrid sight was fury, his demands towards the Seeker and Keeper were unobtainable, but expected from a man in love. "Who did this!" His mind was racing from the sight. His thoughts turned from anger to sorrow as he sat heavily in one of the chairs.

"We are investigating the scene now" Keeper Fytch sounded entirely unimpressed by the President's display of emotion. Cordelia bowed her head for a moment before rising from her crouch and walking towards him.

"Mister President" The Seeker said as she approached. She positioned herself so she at least partially obscured his view of Marissa's corpse with her body. "You... shouldn't have to see this." Cordelia looked like she was fighting to keep the contents of her stomach inside and was just barely winning the battle. "Would you be willing to answer a few questions for me? Um... maybe someplace else?"

Gibson shot Fytch a dirty look before clinching his fists. "Fine." he said simply before standing up. He closed his eyes hard in an attempt to hide his tears but his face was turning slight shades a red. After taking one last look upon Marissa he made his way out of the room. Guards outside made room for the President and Seeker, pointing towards a small empty room across the hall.

It was a dimly lit room, dominated by two brightly lit vending machines. Gibson gazed about the room, finding memories in every corner which only worsened his state. He bagan to feel light headed so quickly took a seat. "Please." he said breathing audibly, "Please tell me what happened."

Cordelia made a face that was a mix of distress and uncertainty before opening her mouth to respond. "As we had only arrived at the scene moments before you we are still putting the pieces together. It is clear, however, that she was killed in that room. Great effort was put into moving her onto the table and... mutilating her body, presumibly in an effort to stage it. At this time I can not speculate on the reason for either the murder or staging of the body."

Gibson leaned back in his seat before leaning over to bury his face in his hands. "She didn't have any enemies I knew of." He paused, taking a breath. "I don't know what to do." he said softly.

"I suspect the intent behind her murder was less to end her and more to send a message to someone else." Cordelia said after a moment. "Despite the state of the body I am fairly confident that she had passed away before her body had been cut. I'm quite certain, in fact, that a test will show she was either drugged or poisoned. I... found a stain on the floor that might have been made by wine. That might be how the drugs or poison was delivered."

"Ah yes," Fytch's voice dripped with sarcasm as he entered the room, "because you have so much experience investigating murders that you can deduce that from thirty seconds of observation."

Cordelia was only partially sucessful in not scowling at the Keeper. "Did you find any evidence that she fought back? Any skin under her nails or bruises on her wrists? Any trauma that would suggest how she died?" Fytch simply shrugged. "See? She must have been poisoned. And it was probably by someone she knew."

"You Seekers always believe that you can't lose a fight." Fytch stated. "She probably got careless and allowed someone to sneak up behind her. It matters not." He held his hand up, revealing the journal and data storage device it held. "I found these placed on top of her rather neatly folded clothing. Whoever murdered her wanted to make it clear that he - or she - has no beef with our organization."

"And?" Cordelia prompted after a moment.

"And so my role here is done. This was not an attack on our organization and the perpatrator did not destroy or steal any information that Seeker Marissa had gathered."

Gibson looked up to Fytch, "How can you be sure?!" he said before pointing at the storage device, "How do you know there isn't information pertinent to this attrocity in there?"

"We'll go over all of this" Fytch patted the device with his other hand "when we put it into our library. If I'm proven wrong we'll reopen the case. Until then I'm closing it."

"We need to find out who did this?" Cordelia said.

"Well you are free to do so Seeker." Fytch said. "That is your job after all. I won't stop you. Know if you'll excuse me I have more important matters to see to." He slipped back out the door before either Cordelia or the President could respond.

"Go get kicked by a horse and die" Cordelia muttered just loud enough for the president to hear.

"So that's it then? How can he just abandon his-" Gibson bit his lip and shook his head, "What can we do from here. I loved her and who ever did this will pay."

"We need to find out who did this and why." Cordelia answered. She bit the inside of her cheek as she considered her options. "Ok, let's see if there was anything unusual in her reports." Cordelia said as she pulled out her comlink, switching it on to speaker mode as she set it down on the table.

"Keeper Walker here, what can I help you with Cordelia?" Came a moment later.

"I was hoping you could look into some of Seeker Marissa's reports for me. Does anything seem... odd to you?"

There was a long pause before Keeper Walker answered "I'd love to help you, but those records have been sealed for twenty years as per her agreement with President Gibson."

Gibson sighed before looking towards the comlink, "I could authorize unsealing this." He said aloud, as if weighing his options. A quick moment passed, "Alright, If I can amend that agreement, I'd like to have those opened if it will help me get justice."

"Is that President Gibson" Keeper Walker asked after a moment.

"It is" Cordelia answered.

"Shit. Sorry for your lose Mister President. I'll do what I can to help. Wait one." A few moments later Walker spoke up again. "Aaaalright. There's nothing here that is jumping out at me or has been flagged in any way. That doesn't mean there isn't anything pertinent here though. Shit. Seeker Marissa was meticulous in her record keeping. Almost as much as her sister." That last part came out half mumbled. "I'll go over her reports with a fine tooth comb, but it'll definitely take me a while."

"Copy that, can you focus on the last week or so?" Cordelia asked.

"Anything for the President. Anything else I can help you with?" Cordelia opened her mouth to answer, but shifted her gaze to Gibson before speaking.

"I do appreciate everything that the Librarios is doing to solve this situation. However, I will not lie and state that I am leaving the inquiry entirely up to the Atheneum. I would understand this to be purely an internal matter on your behalf under normal circumstances but we cannot rule out the possibility that this may only be a prelude to more devious actions, such as attacking either of our sovereign governments directly." Gibson replied calmly.

He stood up and leaned towards the comlink, "Please inform Librarium Rylan Cameron that my investigation will not involve probing into your internal workings and people, as I believe that is solely your responsibility. And by saying that, I would very much appreciate being afforded that same liberty."

Gibson leaned back and crossed his arms and shifted his gaze to Seeker Cordelia, "I was not aware Marissa had a sister. She failed to mention that fact."

"Maybe they didn't get along" Cordelia speculated with a shrug. "Walker, what can you tell me about this sister?"

"Well... Her name is Lyssa. She's Marissa's older twin sister. She's currently serving Librarios as an ARC commando." Cordelia's brows shot up at that last part.

"Interesting. Is there anything in her record about her relationship with Marissa. Also.... where is she now?"

"Interesting, Is there anything in her record about being available?" a gruff voice sounded from outside the room. Gibson watched as a figure walked casually into the room. He recieved a cross look from the President.

"Now is not the time for games, Oscar."

The gruff man made his way behind Cordelia in an attempt to examine her figure before looking to Gibson. "I do not believe we have met." Oscar said smoothly before looking back to Cordelia. "I am Oscar West of the Union NIS."

'"Seeker Cordelia of Bastion Atheneum" Cordelia said with a curt nod.

"Before anyone asks" Walker said, "If you saw Marissa when she was alive you probably have a good idea of what Lyssa looks like."

"Twins?" Cordelia asked, her brows shooting up for the second time.

"Identical twins." Walker specified. "I've met her a few times actually. I can personally confirm that the two women where almost identical in appearance, at least as of three years ago. I wouldn't be surprised if Lyssa has gotten a few scars or changed her hairstyle since then." He almost sounded wistful.

Oscar shook his head. "Guess she is off the table. I wasn't a big fan of Marissa. No offense."

Gibson wasn't amused whatsoever, "There is a time and place for those sentiments." Gibson furrowed his brow, "This is not the time and place for that."

"Sorry boss." Oscar replied.

"Your job is to assist with this investigation. I need your focus. What do you make of this." Gibson replied, looking at him directly.

"Well. I'm fairly certain this isn't political, at least in the traditional sense. It's plausible that there's some relation to her heritage, being the daughter of the previous Librarium." He gazed about the room. "And it's a sick fuck for sure."

"I believe looking in to this 'Lyssa' will yield some information." Gibson said Walker. "Is she accessable?"

"Give me a moment to look it up." Walker answered.

"What can you tell me about her relationship with Marissa?" Coredelia asked. "Given that Marissa has never even spoken about her to the President..."

"You can't possibly think she was behind this?!" Walker sounded legimitately distressed at the thought.

"I'm grasping at straws here, I know." Cordelia said. "But she's an ARC commando. If anyone could have snuck into this building, killed Marissa without a struggle, and escaped with no one being the wiser it would have been her."

"Eh... well I can tell you that it probably wasn't Lyssa." Walker said. "Her last known position has her out in the middle of the desert about three days' drive from here."

"And it's not like the bo-. Marissa had been in that room for days. There is sessions in these rooms nearly every day." Oscar said, further reassuring Lyssa's innocence.

"Well that's odd" Walker seemed to mumble to himself.

"What?!" Cordelia demanded.

"Ah... well Lyssa hasn't reported in for over a week. As I mentioned before, she's incredibly meticulous. I don't think she's missed a single scheduled report in over three years." There was a moment's pause before walker corrected himself "Actually she has never missed a report, until now."

"That... is concerning." Cordelia said with a frown. She turned her attention to Oscar, interested in how he'd assess that bit of info.

"I'll tell you, this sure does feel like a family affair. Strange that one sister suddenly goes missing and then Marissa gets murdered shortly thereafter." He smiled, "Only one way to solve this. Cordelia and I goes in a dark room and examines the evidence together." He said with a toothy grin.

Gibson rose his hand slightly to pause the conversation. "Alright, I am inclined to agree with Oscar on this one. It does seem like a potential family affair. Is Marissa's father still alive?"

"He passed away five years ago" Cordelia said. "Their mother passed away.... ten years ago I think."

"Seventeen years ago" Walker corrected. "No other living relatives that I'm aware of."

"Guess that narrows our options. What do ya'll think. Should we go hunting for some of the Librarios most illusive prey?" Oscar said.

"We need to find Lyssa" Cordelia agreed. "Either she was involved with Marissa's murder or she'll be in need of our assistence."

Gibson nodded, "Then that is the mission. I am curious though, Did the sisters keep contact the entire time? Marissa and I have been romantically involved for nearly three years and not once did she mention Lyssa nor arouse suspicion by leaving in the middle of the night or what not. I am not implying that she was kept on a leash, but Marissa was usually straight forward."

"Its hard to say" Walker admitted. "They seemed to have some minor correspondence over the past few years, but the amount shown on our records for the past three years can be counted on one hand. Not that that doesn't mean they didn't communicate more. Something of particular interest, however, is that apparently Marissa tried to send a message to Lyssa six days ago, but there is no sign that Lyssa recieved the message. And before you ask, no I can not tell you what the message was about."

"Because you don't know or...?" Cordelia began.

"Its not in our records." Walker stated firmly.

"It's Wheeler right? So what was your ARC commando doing in the middle of the desert anyway?" Oscar asked.

"Its Walker" Walker snapped. "And I honestly shouldn't have even told you she was in the desert. I'm getting hit with 'Top Secret' warnings just for pulling her file up."

"I need to know where she is exactly" Cordelia said. "Come on. You owe me."

Gibson furthered the plea, "Mr Walker, I implore you. I need justice for Marissa. If there is anything more you can do."

Walker let out a long sigh before saying "Look, I'll ping your comlink with where Lyssa is supposed to be. But you owe me Cordelia. Like you really owe me."

"What is she doing out there?" Cordelia pressed.

"I can't say." Was all Walker responded with.

"Alright wheels, Thank you for the info." Oscar said clearly on purpose. "I think it's time we got a move on. The longer we wait, the further she could get from the location wheels didn't give us." He paused and looked to Cordelia, "You know, I'd consider deploying a couple fighters for routine patrol. Maybe get a few airial pictures of the area. And with how common our flights are I'm sure she wouldn't think nothing of it."

"I'm glad you Unioners love your planes." Cordelia answered with a smile.

"Cordelia" Walker said. "Watch your back. Whatever Lyssa is... or was... doing in the desert must have been important. Her records were marked top secret by the very top."

"The Librarium?" Cordelia half asked.

"Yup. Try not to get yourself killed. Ok? Walker out."

Before the two could leave the room, President Gibson was issuing the order for a flight to take high altitude images of the area pinged. "By the time you reach Reiters army base, pictures will be available."

"That is the base north of town." Oscar said to Cordelia.

"And you two be careful. The stakes are high, I would expect nothing but the best from each of you." Gibson said before turning away from the two, giving back in to his sorrows.

(a Spleonkey collab)



Hours flew by as Seeker Cordelia and the NIS operative, Oscar West, made their way around Reiters army base. They hadn't spent much time conversing on the way as both had been studying various information regarding the case. Near the command center of the facility was the beating heart of the NIS, where various reports on the case that were nothing but smoke and shadow were constantly thrown in both Cordelia and Oscar's face. Sifting through it was arduous indeed but the realization that there wasn't much that the Union could do from behind its borders dominated the situation. At least they had some detailed maps.

It was time for them to venture into the wastes.

It was a large room that the two were in, bristling with television screens and the constant hum of computers. Nearly Dominating this were voices from the mass of officers, discussing everything from operative positions to lunch plans. Oscar sat lazily at a large brown table. His feet propped up upon its corner. In his hands were two precise photos of the immediate area, along with seven more lower quality, zoomed out wide shots. 

"They had to be flying pretty low to get these pics." Oscar said, almost disappointed before continuing "I was really hoping that they woulda stayed at a higher altitude so as not to spook that Lyssa gal, but I guess it's too late now." 

"I doubt spooking her is something we need to worry about." Cordelia grimly commented as she looked at the photos. Clearly shown in the pictures was the very top of some massive buried Pre-Cataclysm building. The objective of Lyssa's mission was almost definitely inside. If that was all the photos showed Cordelia would have been elated.

"I'm concerned about this" She pointed at one of the fifteen beaten up vehicles that had been parked near the building. "Since it means someone beat us to her." She bit her lower lip as she mulled that thought over.  After a moment she muttered "What the hell did these sisters get themselves into?"

Oscar leaned over to examine the vehicles, "Huh." he said inquisitively before getting comfortable again. "So someone beat us to her. But if she hadn't responded in almost a week, you'd figure them vehicles wouldn't be there. I bet she killed em'." 

"Or" Cordelia said, "They are simply busy raiding that building after killing her. Which means are incredibly unlucky since I'd guess those vehicles could carry at least thirty men. Probably more." She let out a long sigh. "It must be nice being so optimistic."

"Better than being negative all the time." Oscar replied, "And thirty men bad. Especially for your folks right?" He said with a grin. Before either could continue, an officer made his way to them. "I am sorry to interrupt, but another recon flight sighted a pretty strong dust storm rolling towards that site." He took a deep breath, "That unfortunately rules out aerial insertion."

Oscar nodded at the man and turned to Cordelia, "Well, unless your people have shit that can see through a dust storm, it looks like we are in for a drive." 

"Let's drive." Cordelia agreed. "You don't want to see just how much damage a sandstorm can cause to a gunship's engines." She rose to her feet, a chirping sound from her pocket drawing her attention downwards. She pulled her comlink out, a groan escaping her lips when she looked at the displayed name of the caller. "Keeper Fytch" She said for Oscar's benefit. "Do I even want to accept this call?"

"Is it that prick I walked by back at the capitol?" Oscar gave a smug look, "Although that guy seemed like he'd be a fun drunk." 

"Really?" Cordelia asked with a raised eyebrow. "I figure a drunk Fytch would just pull the stick out of his ass and start beating people with it."

Oscar let out a loud laugh before nodding at her, "Yeah, I could see that. But you might want to take that call. I'll go get our ride ready, just pop out when you're ready."

"Oh no." Cordelia said as she moved to follow him. "If one of us has to suffer through that man's rant, then both of us will." She answered the call, setting the comlink to speaker mode so Oscar could listen in.

"And here I thought we had a no strings attached relationship. I guess I'd have to meet your family sooner than later." Oscar said, before shooting a quick wink.

Cordelia's brows shot up, but before she could respond Fytch was already launching into his rant. "I would have thought you'd have shown some restraint after that stunt you pulled at the Congressional Library." Fytch all but yelled. "But I no sooner return to headquarters to find that you have been sticking your nose into top secret files you have no business putting it into. You'd better stay far away, cause the next time I see you I'll have your head mounted on a pike!"

"Man, what a dick." Oscar whispered, but intentionally loud enough for Fytch to make out.

"Wait? Who's that?! Do you have your comlink on speaker mode?" Fytch demanded.

"That's besides the point." Cordelia calmly said. "Those files I accessed are related to Seeker Marissa's murder. And might I point out that I was fully justified in blowing up the Congressional Library."

"I already closed that case!" Fytch pointed ignored her comment about the library. "You get your ass back here right now before-"

"Oops. Must have lost the signal." Cordelia said, shooting Oscar an innocent smile. "So... do you want to get going before Fytch decides to send a gunship after us?"

Oscar laughed before shaking his head, "I think we will make a great couple." He said before turning towards the door. "You got everything you need?"

"Well I'm not missing anything worth having my head put on a pike over." Cordelia said after a moment. "Though if you've got any explosives I'll take them off of your hands."

"Heh." Oscar simply replied, "Well, I don't have any in our ride but right down that hall there is the armory." He pointed to his left. "There's definitely something to fill that explosive apatite of yours."

"Be right back!" Cordelia headed towards the armory with a bounce in her step. Ten minutes later she returned with a grenade launcher strapped to her back, several grenades attached to her belt, and a satchel full of explosives. The grin spread across her face was reminiscent of a child given free run of a toy store.

Oscar just stared at her, "I think I'm in love." he said under his breath. "Alright lass, lets get a move on." Oscar said, motioning towards the door in the most gentlemanly fashion he could muster.

As the two exited the structure, "There she is." Oscar said, motioning ahead of them. There sat what was the love child of a tank, utility truck and a bull dozer. 

"Ok. That is pretty sweet." Cordelia said. 

"Huh?" Oscar said raising an eyebrow. "Oh that thing? That's not it." He turned to the Truck, "You gonna move your shit?" he shouted. After a few moments a man pulled his way into the cab and started the motor. As the truck pulled away, a lone Carwas sitting there. "There's my baby." 

"Way to crush a girl's dreams." Cordelia said. "Will that even make it out of town?"

Oscar frowned before muttering under his breath, "You'll be lucky if you make it out of town." He snapped upright and motioned towards the car, "Oh don't worry, she has more than enough power for what you need. Just be careful of the shifter" He narrowed his gaze at her, "it gets a little crazy sometimes."

"I'll leave the driving to you." Cordelia said as she approached the vehicle. "Honestly I doubt I could drive a car anyways. Not unless its similar to how our dust jumpers operate."

"You thought I'd let you drive?" Oscar laughed before crawling into it. The passenger handle had broken long ago, forcing him to push the door open from the inside. "It's a work in progress." he said, trying to justify it.

"It can be in progress so long as it works" Cordelia dryly stated as she climbed in. "We need to come back with something of substance unless you like the idea of my head adorning the end of a pike."

"Oh, I'm sure your head on a pike wouldn't be bad, so long as it was my pike." Oscar shot her a dirty look, before gripping the steering wheel and turning the key. As the vehicle burst into life, a thunderous roar deafened those nearby. 

"Ah. So is the decapitated, maimed, or simply dead woman that's your type?" Cordelia asked. A look of worry spread across her face as the car started up. "Is it supposed to make those sounds?"

Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose, "The Pike is my... Er.. and the head is your... Oh never mind." he said before placing his right hand on her leg, "Oops." he said before pulling it back and onto the shifter. "And yes, It is supposed to make this sound." he said grinning.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're odd Oscar?" Cordelia asked. Her comlink chirped at her again. "What know?" She asked as she pulled the device out. She paled as she caught sight of the caller. She immediately accepted the call and placed the device up to her ear.

"Odd." Oscar said softly before looking over to her. "Should I keep quiet this time around?"

"Yes sir" Cordelia said into the comlink. She glanced at Oscar and gave him a small nod of her head. "Of course sir. Yes- I.. um... I understand sir." She pulled the device away from her head and pressed a button on it. "He... uh... wants to talk to both of us." She said to Oscar.

Oscar shrugged, "Sure, lets hear it. You oughta turn it up a bit this time."

Cordelia pressed another button on her comlink before saying "I've got you on speaker phone sir."

"Very good." An older man said through the comlink. "I've been lead to believe the two of you are investigating Seeker Marissa's murder. Seeker Cordelia and... Agent....?"

"He asking me? Oh. Hey there. I'm Oscar of the Union NIS." Oscar said.

"Oscar? I don't believe we've met before. I'm Rylan Cameron. Acting Libarium of Librarios."

"Rylan Cameron." Oscar said, "I always thought his voice was going to be little deeper." He looked over to Cordelia and then the road. "Well, Mr. Cameron, what can we do for you?"

"I'm glad you asked." The Libarium said. "I've been informed that you two accessed files about Seeker Marissa's sister, Lyssa."

"Yes sir" Cordelia said. "But you see-"

"Let me finish young lady." While he didn't sound pleased, the Librarium certainly didn't sound angry either. "This matter, regarding Seeker Marissa's murder and Lyssa's... disappearance concerns me greatly. On its own I would take Marissa's death to be an attack on me personally. Combine the two and... well. Let's just say Lyssa's currently on a mission I personally gave her and I fear that Marissa's death is somehow linked to it."

Oscar frowned, "You just gotta understand that she was very important to President Gibson.  But was she involved with that mission?"

"I do understand." The Librarium answered. "I intend to visit Gibson to discuss this once we end this call. But let me assure you that Marissa was not involved in the mission in any official capacity. I admit, however, that I wouldn't put it past her to learn about it on her own. She is - was - an extremely resourceful woman."

"What exactly is this mission?" Cordelia asked.

"That is not something I am willing to discuss except in person. This is a top secret matter, one that I will not risk over comlinks."

"Look, Rylan, There's been a pretty high profile death, and something that struck home with my people. So why not just spill out what's going on. We are going to find out regardless but you might have information that could save us a lot of time." Oscar stated.

"Yes. You will find out." The Librarium agreed. "Because you will have Lyssa brief you. I would do it myself, but I fear our lines of communication are not entirely secure. When you find Lyssa tell her that her Uncle Chris wants her to tell you about the project. Then tell her you will buy her drinks when you return to town. Take note of the words town and drinks. Make sure to remember that and don't even think about writing it down."

Cordelia, who had pulled out her notepad and had a pen in hand, gave Oscar a sheepish look before putting the notepad away.

"Seeker Cordelia" The Librarium continued. "I am hereby giving you direct orders. You are to locate Seeker Lyssa and aid her in completing her mission. This is your top priority. In the... unlikely event that she is dead you are to search the area for any and all technical information you can find and return it to me personally. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir." Cordelia answered.

"Now then Agent... Oscar." The Librarium continued. "I realize that you are not obligated to follow my orders, but I would like to request that you provide Seekers Cordelia and Lyssa with whatever aid you can. I would also like to request that you not disclose any information that the two of you come across with anyone save myself and your own president. I am, of course, more than willing to compensate you for your time and discretion."

"Yeah I can do that." Oscar replied simply. "Sure thing."

"Excellent." The Librarium said. "I'll make sure to set aside some assets to provide support should you need it, though you'll need to wait till that sand storm has passed before we can send you any aid. I'll have a Falcon gunship ready to pick the three of you up, along with any... technical documents. Is there anything I can do to help you out right now?"

Oscar looked over to Cordelia, "Well, with the crazy smile this lass gave me earlier, we might need an airdrop with some explosives." he said playfully.

"I'll look into having a care package sent to you later."

Cordelia coughed a few times before adding "If you could keep Keeper Fytch off of my ass that'd be great."

"Fytch?" The Librarium asked. "Oh. He just submitted his report." He mumbled a few words to himself before clearly asking "What the hell did you do to piss him off this much?"

"Nah, There wasn't any issues. Just a misunderstanding." Oscar said before shooting Cordelia another wink. 

"If you say so. I'll make sure he's too busy to bother you either way. I am not at all pleased with the quality of his work in regards to Marissa." The Librarium said. "And that reminds me... knowing Lyssa she'll-"

"The hell?" Cordelia asked. "My comlink just dropped the call. For real this time."

"Well shit." Oscar said. "Guess we are on our own at this point." He pointed ahead at a large stone pillar at least fifty feet tall, "We are now out of Union territory. Welcome to the wastes."

============================================

It felt like hours as Cordelia and Oscar made their way across the blasted terrain. Ancient structures faintly dotted the largely flat and barren lands.

"We should be there sometime soon." Oscar said before parking near the very top floors of a long sunken sky scraper. "I need to stretch my legs and fuel this beast up." He said while petting the dashboard.

"Do you really think we'll find her still alive?" Cordelia asked as she opened the car door and stepped out. She reached towards the sky as she stretched her arms and back.

Oscar followed suit and gave a few stretches of his own. "Honestly. I don't know. I've encountered your Arc operatives before and they seemed tough enough." He walked to the back of the car and pulled out one of the many canisters of fuel. "This won't take too long." He said, "But in all honesty, what do you expect us to find when we get there?"

"A woman who has been violated numerous times before being murdered and an ancient ruin occupied by a small army of raiders." Cordelia said. "The Librarium seemed certain she was still alive, but then again I doubt he saw the pictures of those fifteen cars around the ruins. Each of those could easily carry four men. So we're looking at what... seventy men?"

"And you thought I had issues. Automatically assuming she had taken in more than her body could stand." Oscar replied. "I'm sure she is alive. Like I said, those Arc people are pretty tough." He began shaking the canister as if to get every last drop out. "And I'm not sure if you've noticed but the amount of soldiers you estimate keeps going up." 

"Not sure why you are worried about it. You got a small army of your own right here." Oscar said, flexing his right arm muscle at her.

"You intend to arm wrestle seventy-five raiders into submission?" She asked dryly.

"If that's what it takes to defeat one hundred fifty men, or what ever number you'll come up with next." he said with a smile. "You hungry?" 

"What's on the menu?" She answered with a smile of her own. "I never did see you packing any food."

He rose a brow, "You don't keep dry foods around? Try this standard Union ration number four." he continued before pushing the empty fuel canister into its place. From behind the canisters he pulled two small metal boxes. He placed both on the back of his car and opened them. Inside was small strips of salted meat and dry plant roots. "Here, Enjoy. Oh, here." he said, handing her a water canteen.

Taking the offered items, Cordelia made a face as she sniffed the plant roots. She took a bite out of one of the roots, only to rush to drink some water. "You actually feed your soldiers this?" She asked. "You sure this isn't like prisoner rations or something?"

"Hey, It's in good shape for being about ten days old." he replied.

"Uh huh." Cordelia sounded entirely unpersuaded. She bit into the piece of meat, a grimace on her face as she chewed into it. "For some reason I don't believe you."

"So does that mean you like it?" He chuckled, "For most people, they love it once the taste of it isn't in your mouth."

"So basically when they aren't eating it? Makes sense."

"Basically." he simply stated. "Well, I assume your boyfriend enjoys your profession?"

"Hah!" Cordelia took another small bite out of her meat, which she was beginning to think was not actually meat, before giving him a real response. "Not a lot of seekers have the luxury of finding a significant other. At least until they land a comfortable position as a permanent attachment to a city or something."

Oscar gently brushed his vest off, "Well, it's not like you have to get attached to a city to get attached to a person." He chuckled, "So, where are you from? why did you decide to go the route of Seeker Instead of an Arc chick."

"Born and raised in the Bastion Atheneum, so I suppose that makes us childhood neighbors." Cordelia gave Oscar a mock salute. "Anyways I couldn't be an ARC 'chick'" She raised an eyebrow at Oscar, "even if I wanted. Its a pretty exclusive group. And its very combat oriented, something that I don't excel at. At least if we are excluding explosives."

"So they send a lady like your self into the wilds, one that aint good at fighting? At least you'll get by with your looks." Oscar smiled, "These ARC chicks are exclusive you say? I've met a couple before, one was a complete bitch. Just sayin'."

"Have you met any of the ARC..." She had to think for a moment, "bros? I sort of figured you'd be at home with them."

"Honestly? Nah, I haven't. At least I don't think so. It never seemed like a profession that they'd go around hollering 'hey! i'm a commando guy!" He laughed. "Are most keepers dicks?"

"Uh..." Obviously caught off guard by the sudden change of topic it took Cordelia a moment to answer. "No. You spoke to Walker on my comlink, didn't you? He's a pretty cool guy. Most of them are actually fairly laid back, though I've noticed that each Atheneum seems to have a core group of pompous stick-up-the-butt keepers."

"I had no idea wheeler was a keeper too. Heh." He said, taking the last bite of his meal. "Did you ever have the option to be a keeper?"

"A position as a keeper was never explicitly offered" Cordelia answered, "but I could have found one had I wanted to. My parents were both seekers though, and I felt like I would have betrayed them somehow if I switched teams on them. Keepers have boring jobs anyways."

"Maybe that's why many are pompous, stick up the ass's. Boredom can be so... boring." Oscar replied, "What about when you're older? you plan on settling in to one of those jobs?"

"I haven't really thought about it." Cordelia said after a moment. "I might take up a job as a keeper, or maybe I'll just settle into some town and observe as a permanently attached seeker." She shrugged. "I always figured I'd decide once I reached that crossroad."

Oscar piqued his brow, "I can't really picture you settling into a small town, you'd be the next wheeler." He paused before reaching into his vest and pulling out a half empty pack of cigarettes, "Want one?" he asked before lighting his own but was quick to gaze over her shoulder. "Shit. dust storm coming our way. Guess we better make this Op quick." 

He motioned towards the car before sliding into it and making sure the door was opened for Cordelia.

"You know," Cordelia said as she climbed into the car, "that those are going to be the death of you one day."

"Until that day comes, I aint stopping." He smirked while starting the car. He didn't sit for long before taking off towards the last known place of the Arc commando known as Lyssa.

“There is no conflict between the ideal of religion and the ideal of science, but science is opposed to theological dogmas because science is founded on fact. To me, the universe is simply a great machine which never came into being and never will end. The human being is no exception to the natural order. Man, like the universe, is a machine.” Nikola Tesla

Chanting echoed throughout the large oval chamber, the sound vibrating off the walls so that they seemed to rebound and resonate within those within it. Quiana could feel it rolling into her very being as she lay on a steel table in the rooms center. The hard metal felt cold against her skin as she lay mostly naked upon the operating table. She could also feel the unyielding leather straps that bound her limbs to the table's edges-- more to keep her in place than to restrain her. All around her grey-robed iron priest and priestesses of The Way chattered in binary code as they prepared for the induction ceremony.

Circling the group, in turn, were a small platformS that held many surgical tools, most of which were larger ones not already a part of their mechanical apparatuses built into their bodies, or those that extended from the ceiling above. Smaller aid drones scuttled about on mechanized legs carrying one tool or another, often doing so without any vocalization from the priestesses themselves. One deeply hooded priest off to her left retrieved a syringe from the mechanical claws of a drone and held it aloft for a moment-- as if to admire it-- the green lenses of his cybernetic eyes giving no hints as to what he might be thinking at that moment. However, Quiana assumed he felt a certain reverence for the contents of the syringe. Inside was a gray liquid that seemed to slush now and again subtly. It was so slight one might think they imagined it.

While uncertain Quiana guessed that the liquids within were in fact OSN, or less commonly called Organic Shifting Nanites. They were at the moment configured to act as digital microfluidic biochips. It was these very nanites that had allowed the Illuminated Cybran Order to exists as it did today. Even alone it slowly altered the brain chemistry of hosts, allowing one's mind to grasp complex concepts and increase one's memory exponentially. It inherently did not make one more intelligent but allowed one to retain greater amounts of knowledge quickly and more easily. It was the first and greatest gift given by the great Mother of Machines to the orders ancestors. It also allowed any individual once injected to accept bionic implants. It was among the orders most holy of relics and having such a thing bestowed upon oneself was no small thing.

The priest lowered the needle toward Quiana’s left arm, aiming for a major artery with practiced ease. With a rock-steady hand and uncanny precision, he administered the nanomachines. There was a slight pain as the cool metal pierced flesh. Then a light tingling in her arm that seemed to slowly spread throughout her arm before slowly spreading into the rest of her body. At this point forward the iron priest around her ceased to speak in binary-- switching to flesh speech in the language of common Nabushanion with droning synthetic voices. Entering into a chanting prayer that was perfectly synchronized, revealing long years of practice.

“From the weakness of the mind, Mater machinas save us.”

The faint feeling that had overtook her arm now seemed to crawl up her body, the tingling strongest around her throat and soon against the sides of her temples. Soon the mechanical surgical arms descended on her body. She would stay awake for the entire procedure, as her throat was soon cut open to prepare for her respirator implants. Thankfully her sense of pain would be temporarily dampened significantly thanks to the nanites in her body which, also deadened her nerves making it so she could not move even if she wanted to. Her head secured as it was to the table Quiana could only roll her eyes as she silently watched them perform on her paralyzed body.

She had heard tales of a few unfortunate men or women who still held enough feeling in their body that they could feel every blade and cut. Mercifully it seemed she would be spared from such a nightmare scenario as she experienced no pain at all. As they worked, the priests continued to chant in their emotionless almost robotic voices.

“From the fate of entropy, circuitry preserve us.”

A nearby priest seemed to produce from nowhere a mechanical device already perfectly measured to sit just inside her throat where her adam's apple once was. It, in turn, would act as both her new means to take in the air as well as a voice box. Sheets of metal placed over the sensitive inner workings, the metal connecting with her skin as the nanites seamlessly merged inorganic with the organic material-- allowing the both to work harmlessly beside the other.

“From the Rage, of the beasts, Iron protect us.”

As they worked away on her throat and lower jaw, she could feel a slight tingle that ran up her right arm. Even if she had been expecting it, it was still somewhat alarming. One iron priestess had skillfully started amputating her right arm up to the elbow; the wound was then carefully treated as a new mechanical arm was made ready to replace her lost right arm. A small aid drone lifting it up as if to offer it much like a young child might off a gift to the priestess at work. A lightweight model capable of expanding several more digits from the first five fingers would be threefolds faster, and two folds stronger than her previous flawed arm of flesh.

“From the temptations of the flesh, silica cleanse us.”

Much like her right arm, soon both of her left legs were each carefully and surgically removed. Each replaced by cyberlegs that were lightweight and built for speed rather than strength and durability. The model was among the most flexible leg augments regarding upgrade enhancements available to it. At this stage, however, they would serve mostly as a form of locomotion.

“From the ravages of the heretic, Machina anima shield us.”

The last of the implants were soon finished as the Iron priests began to wrap up the end of their ceremonial initiation. All told it had taken a mere hour and a half to fix the last cybernetics into place many of the most complex machines needing to be pieced together at the moment of implantation. The last of the rite ended with a priest dipping a finger in a bowl of holy oils being held up by a small aid drone, then carefully drawing the orders symbol of the cog onto Quiana’s head.

“From this rotting cage of biomatter, Machine Goddess set us free.”

The rite was officially over, and Quiana suddenly felt exhausted, as the last of the nanites not consumed in the surgery had already begun to induce sleep to allow her body and mind to adjust to the radical changes made to it. With sleep came a sudden sense of overwhelming bliss that suddenly enveloped her and she could not tell if it was from knowing she had finally truly began her journey in TheWay or if it was the Mater machinas welcoming in her newest child.



The sound of weapons fire seemed to ring out unceasingly like the wailing of a newborn child. Now and again the sound of an explosion would ring out alongside the cacophony of gunfire that made the ground and walls shake. The small group huddled within a carved out section of the cave where they made their home waited anxiously as the fighting continued. Of those who dwelled within two were adults. One was a man, the only other adult a woman-- his spouse-- and their two daughters.

The man armed with a simple sawed off shotgun felt his heart quicken as the sounds of fighting drew closer and closer. He looked back toward his family as they huddled in the far corner of the cavern. With new resolve, he turned back to the curtain that closed off his dwelling from the rest of the cavern network and unconsciously tightened his grip on his weapon. He raised the barrel toward the entryway as the gunfire came even closer-- his hand unsteady as he breath quickened. Malrick had no idea who had suddenly stormed his people's home in the dead of the night. Yet such an attack on a settlement out here in the vast wastes was hardly an unexpected or rare occurrence. Actually, the only things that mattered when you were raided, not if, was who the attackers were.

Another group of bandits would be something they could deal with like that had in the past. Union boy’s tended to come in loud, kill a few, but most would have to look forward to being dragged off to one of their ungodly prisons. Librarios data worms could always be negotiated with. But if it was the Disciples of Yre-Keltha they were likely all royally fucked. The only ones worse then them would be facing a Yandras CDF death squad. Of course, if he believed in the ghost stories there were always th--

A sudden crash down the dark hall beyond the curtain brought Malrick’s thoughts back to the present. He swallowed and slowly walked forward and hugged the wall next to the archway. It didn't matter who had decided to come calling tonight. If the bastards dared threaten his family, then he’d make sure they paid in blood. The sound of heavy foot steps thudded from somewhere on the other side of the doorways curtain. At one point the footfalls sounded wet, like someone stepping onto a puddle. By the sounds of it, whoever or whatever it was, sounded massive and heavy. Not quite as weighty as a man in power armor and now and again the sound of an iron gritting against iron could faintly be heard.

Malrick listened attentively to the approaching steps, slowing his breathing as he waited. At last, the footfalls seemed to stop suddenly, and from the sounds of it, there was more than one person. And they stood perhaps a mere few feet from the doorway. Malrick slowly inhaled as he gritted his teeth counting down the seconds in his head.

In a sudden burst of movement, Malrick turned, so he stood before the curtain taking aim. Before his finger could even squeeze the trigger a single deafening report of a gunshot rang out, followed by the violent, bloody impact of a 5.56mm round tearing through Malrick’s throat. The bullet practically pulverized most of his neck in a spray of gore. Malrick fell back; a terrible electric current jolted through his frame simultaneously causing his body to enter into a sudden seizure, forcing his finger to pull the trigger in a death grip firing off a buck shot into the stone ceiling just above the archway as he fell onto his back.

There was a wailing scream of panic and shock from somewhere in the distance, but it seemed far away to Malrick’s ears as the world took on a blurry image. He watched with fading consciousness as dark cloaked figures strode into the room, brushing the curtain aside with ease. He could hardly make out anything, but the blazing red lights under hooded heads. He tried desperately to move, bring his gun to bear, curse the sons of bitches. Anything, but his body did not respond, either from the shock to his nervous system or the fact his life blood was ebbing away at an alarming rate. He realized the bullet had ruptured a major jugular artery and he had moments left before he was dead.

He barely registered another vaguely familiar cry, this one a mix of rage and hate. He watched helplessly as Lily, the love of his life, rushed the intruders with a makeshift bladed weapon. They didn't even bother wasting a bullet. Instead quicker than his dying brain could follow the lead intruder's arm snapped up grabbed Lily’s arm by the wrist before twisting it ruthlessly clockwise in one quick, smooth motion. Quickly breaking the arm and splitting the bone as if it was nothing more than a bush twig. Lily cried out again, but this time in pain, a cry that stabbed directly into Malrick’s fast beating heart. A heart struggling to supply blood to a brain it could no longer support.

Malrick cursed these robed men, and his own stupidity and inability to protect his family. The only solace he could take in those last moments as he chocked on his blood was that at least his family would soon follow him into the afterlife. They would reunite in the hereafter. If there was any such place. A swift kick bent a leg out from under Lily causing her to fall somewhere out of his vision. He grimaced when he heard bone snapping again followed by another cry of pain.

He wanted to shut his eyes then and there, to just die, but he stubbornly looked on, knowing what would follow. He did not deserve to look away. Yet instead of gunning down the rest of his family, another figure with a hood that gleamed a bright blue light where his eyes should have been stepped up and looked toward his daughters. Who at this point Malrick realized were crying and screaming something he could not understand. Strange mutterings were produced from the hooded, robed figures that oddly sounded like one of those old communication devices his band had dug up some winters back. A phone he had learned later was it’s name. It was then in a sudden moment of clarity that he realized with a cold dread who these intruders were.

Ruststalkers

That exact moment his suspicions were confirmed when one of metal men spoke in a synthesized voice, “prepare the children for transport and mind scrubbing. Terminate the female.”

As his vision faded to darkness, a single tear born of rage rolled down his cheek. The gods of the wasteland were cruel indeed for any death was far better than the fate that awaited his children. The last thing he ever heard was the wet crunch of a heavy metal boot crushing his wife's skull and then he knew no more.



Natasha awoke in a strange cold place-- one she immediately noticed was void of any light. The next thing she noticed was she was suspended naked by her wrists and legs, with strange coiling metal which kept her spread eagle and several feet off the ground. The last thing she noticed was she was utterly alone. The last thing she could recall was in her parents dwelling with her mother, father, and sister. Then the bad men had appeared, they had hurt her daddy and mom too. She had tried to run-- fight-- like her father had taught her. But they just ignored her kicking and punching. She did remember how strong they were. Binding her with something strong and metal around her legs and wrists. Before a bag was placed over her head. The last memory she had. She had told Megan her younger sister to run through the little crawl space they sometimes used when they played hide and seek.

Just large enough for her sister, and herself if she had time. She couldn't remember if Megan had listened and reached the space or not. She really hoped so. Remembering in vivid detail what had happened she began to cry again. Remembering how her mother had tried to turn their faces when dad neck opened up. No not opened, was blown away like tumbleweeds in the wind. How mother had tried to protect them as well. The sound of her head being crushed would hunt Natasha’s dreams all her life. She was more than old enough to know she would never see them again. Even now she could do nothing to stop the tears that welled up. She wanted to scream, but could not manage more than a sobbing inhaling exhaling full body shudder over and over. She wanted so badly for this all to be a very bad dream. Hoping she would wake up to her and her sisters cot. Where her mother would take her into her loving arms and hush her back to sleep. For her father to check the crawl spaces and insure her there were no monsters with his natural smile that always put her at ease.

Crying alone in the dark she slowly became aware of approaching footsteps. She tried to quiet herself. Hoping against hope that somehow she would not be found. Then red lights illuminated the darkness. Revealing just enough that she could make out shapes but not what they were. The red lights were focused in front of her and a circle about her helpless body. She futilely tried to pull on her bindings but they gave only slightly, and the angle was all wrong. She discovered that despite how cold and metallic the coils were, they were not as hard as metal ought to be. Why this was, or how, was completely lost on her.

When the voice came from some distance away, she nearly jumped out of her own skin with fright. She squawked in alarm despite herself.

“Now, what have the stalkers brought me today? Hmmm?”

The voice sounded like a man, but it was all wrong. It sounded like some mimicry, oddly like a normal voice mixed with static from one of dad's old radios.

“W-w-who are you?” She managed with some effort. Trying and failing utterly to sound unafraid.

The dark shape of the figure soon appeared just outside the ring of lights circling her. He seemed to be also wearing robes like the other bad men. She could not make out anything from under the hood he wore except for some metal sticking out the lower part of his face that looked a lot like her father's old gas mask and an unsettling brilliant crimson glow where his right eye was supposed to be. He also seemed to have a large rod of some kind taller than he was in his left hand which he used to support himself like the older men in her village used walking canes.

“A most anticipated and tired question new meat, but you need not concern yourself-- oh no.”

Something about the man's manner scared her more than anything else which started her crying all over again, only this time more quietly than before.

“Now let's see what we have here…” at that ominous phrase the sound of whirring gears could be heard as the man's back opened up into countless dark shadowy armlike appendages. Like some evil spider of iron and steel. Each mechanical arm was unique and not one shared anything with its brother in appearance except basic functional appearance as a limb. Strange devices and lights at the end of several of those arms light up or opened to reveal some unusual instrument. At the sight of so many arms coming towards her Natasha’s cries became even louder than before. Begging him to not hurt her, to take her to her mom and daddy.

The mystery man tsked and shook his head responding in a voice sounding mildly annoyed, “now, now none of that new meat. I have yet to even begin with my experiments. It is far too soon to vocalize your displeasure. Properly await testing before making a fuss. Normally I would have had your vocal cords removed. But I have decided to try recording specific responses made vocally when different stimuli is applied. I estimate an increase of 3% efficiency in our proceedings, and being allowed to vocalize your displeasure should allow for a 7% increase of you minds psyche. Which will help in resisting the inevitability of you mind breaking under the stress. At such a point you would become useless to me. Fret not! Your biomatter would be recycled and used for other experiments of that have no doubt. Nothing is wasted in Nova Alpha! Or Nova Prime itself for that matter.”

Natasha still whimpered all the same as lights flicked across her fair skin. All the while the data readings the man received seemed to please him as he “hummed” height and “AHha’ed” quite often. All too much time later the limbs receded with the man sounding quite pleased. “Yes, a most excellent specimen. A rarity to find one so healthy out in the wastes! And look at you! No diseases or mutations. Prime untainted human DNA, a rarity I say! A rarity!.”

“Of course the cities hold many healthy individuals as well, but it would be shouldering far too much danger to acquire any of those you understand.”

Natasha was hardly listening at this point. Still reeling from the alienness and suddenness of her current situation.

“W-what do you want?” She asked in barely more than a whisper.

At that moment the mystery man snapped his fingers with his free hand. However, the sound resembled like that of flint scraping against flint. A small spark was produced by the movement, which was followed by, “ah, yes, of course, I forgot to introduce myself! I am Tech Lord Maxima Gasch of Biology and Nano-augmentation at your service. I have been tasked in perfecting new forms of bionic surgery and cybernetic upgrades for The Illuminated Cybran research branch. In you, we will test out countless new bionics to ensure they work as properly intended for our initiates. We can hardly afford to hope for the best after all on new adepts in our order! Such a waste! They must be tested first before being made available. Thoroughly. I do hope you will not disappoint.”

Maxima lightly tapped his stave three times on the ground, the room exploding in a sea of light that stung Natasha's eyes at first. It took several moments before her eyes adjusted to the light. What she saw quickly made her wish the light had blinded her permanently. The entire room was a stage of horrible amalgamations of flesh and steel. Bloated bodies with machinery unnaturally attached or even growing from outside their bodies. Natasha had seen one unfortunate buggy crash once in her life. Yet nothing could have prepared her for the things that were once human hanging over platforms all around her.

“...like so many other before you.” Maxima’s head turned toward one platform to Natasha’s left.

She made the mistake of looking and wished more than even she was blind, for this one particular mass of flesh and steel was altogether too familiar. The sight of it made Natasha feel like her heart broke into a thousand pieces in her chest. The mangled mass of her younger sister, Megan, hung like so much grotesque meat, twisted almost beyond all recognition, if not for the necklace around her neck mother had given to her. Natasha might never have known.

She vomited.

“Now then.” Maxima continued in a cold emotionless tone as if all was right in the world. “Where. Will. We. Begin?”

Still in shock Natasha did not even react when the first coil of metal wormed its way under her skin.

It wasn't many days now, soon they would reach one of the fabled states of the west. The glorious city of Orglas, or the proud Yandras.
They had all heard so much about them, how the people had power, how the people were protected.

In the sand seas and the deserts, the only protection one could have was the protection of the gun you were holding and your arm which carried it. But he wanted more.
Jogh was a father of two, it was close to three, but the third child died soon after birth after mysterious circumstances. His wife Maria slept in the bed in the back of the house truck together with his two children, Moraven and Djorn.

He glanced back and made a small smile, his sunburnt almost brown skin was coarse and rough, with a few warts on his left cheek.
Jogh drove the vehicle over the calm sand dunes, the sun was high in the sky and they had gotten through the cannibal tribes delta. It should be smooth driving all the way to the goal.
Jogh checked the compass again, he was going the right way. The compass needle gently vibrated from the movement of the vehicle and its engine. While also swaying slightly.
He smiled again, but was suddenly alerted when the needle began to sway more violently, it even swung around once clockwise and twice counterclockwise and then began wildly showing all sorts of bearings in violent jerks.

Jogh tried concussive maintenance with the palm of his hand on the base of the compass. It just kept jumping around.
He was spooked, but figured there must be some old world building somewhere messing with it.
Then he saw it, from the west. The entire horizon was a wall, easily a kilometer tall, spewing purple lightning which danced and crackled periodically all over its surface. It was an electrostorm.

-"Shit." Jogh expressed, then scanned the close area for some cover. None. The last thing he had passed was some cliffs, but that was almost an hours drive back, there was no time.

-"Maria!" He yelled, waking his wife.
-"What?" She wondered while wiping her eyes, she knelt next to him and was going to say something when she saw the storm.
-"I see what you mean hun!" She yelped and ran to the door where their gear hung. Shortly followed by Jogh whom had turned off the engine.

They hastily put on goggles, worn green and brown ponchos and bandanas covering their mouths. They hastily began to toss ropes over the truck and secured it in place with spikes with broad blades on them to get grip in the sand.
The storm was closing quickly, just seconds after securing the ropes, a job that took less than five minutes, the massive storm slammed into the area.
Sand was swirling everywhere, in the brief time it took to get inside several centimeters of sand had built up in the doorway. But alas, they were safe.
Moraven crept out from her hiding spot and held a candle in her palms. It was dark in the truck and the family huddles close around the candle which Maria lit with a long necked lighter.
The family had weathered electrostorms before, they were worse than sandstorms, since if you had any fancy electronics, like a radio, or a image screen you needed to turn them off, lest the lightning fry them.
But they didn't have such fancy things. Jogh used to have a fancy talking box, but he traded it to afford the truck, among other things.

Jogh actually liked these family moments, just sitting together in the dark and watching a candle. Sometimes they hummed songs, sometimes they talked. Sometimes they just sat silent.
A slight tickle, at first he ignored it as built up stress. The cannibal tribes sure had given him some stress, but when Djorn said.
-"Dad, what is going on." He could not ignore it any longer.
Both he and his wife was getting worried as the vibration grew in intensity, first to a small rumble, then to what resembled a constant earthquake.

Plates fell from the cupboards, bouncing on the counter. His favorite mug fell and broke in half... again.
Jogh stood up and walked to a window, looking out he saw something vast, looming.
They seemed to be in a cave... a moving cave. With a sudden and violent crash something slammed into the rear of the truck sending it spinning 180, it almost fell over. His entire family screaming.

Then it calmed down, as quickly, no. Quicker than it had begun the rumbling ceased, the truck was inside the cave now, there was still the howling of the wind outside but the echoes proved that the area was different outside. It was also much much darker, Maria managed to reignite the candle, it was then they realized all the lightning strikes were distant now. Usually they were all over, but this cave or whatever it was absorbed it.
Jogh got paranoid, he grabbed his makeshift crossbow and leaned on the door, his family hiding beneath the table.
It took almost a minute, but in the dark wind outside he could hear footsteps, calm footsteps closing in on his mobile home.
Then they stopped right outside. It was silent for a while...

-"Requesting entrance." A strange metallic voice rang out from the other side of the door. Jogh almost got an heart attack, but after violently jerking back he regained his posture and held the door closed.
-"Requesting entrance... please." The voice spoke again, but the last word had a really strange vocalization which went from a deep sound to a higher pitch in a way no normal human spoke.
Jogh had little idea what to do, it wasn't cannibals though, they were never out during the storms. Motor gangs? Same with them.

-"Who... who are you?!" Jogh yelled nervously through the door. Maria was whispering complaints to Jogh whom now instantly regretted speaking.
-"I am Em kay i vee. Nabushan engineer corps." It spoke. Jogh's first thought was 'engineer what?' Did he say Kay Ivy? Odd name.
The stranger didn't seem openly hostile, perhaps he's suffering in the storm.
-"I'm gonna open the door." Jogh yelled, training the crossbow on the opening as he slowly turned the handle with his thumb on the unlock plate, slowly making a small opening which he could peek out of.

In the distance he saw what appeared as strange broad pillars which were thicker at the bottom, sand was obscuring the vision and as he slowly opened the door more he saw the person who had been speaking, or rather the thing.
Jogh screamed and fell backwards, accidentally fully opening the door briefly showing the visage of a humanoid machine with a head resembling a security camera before the candle was blown out by the swirling sand. The entire family screamed as a lightning bolt struck closeby outside.
With panicked kicks Jogh managed to kick the door close and back off to lean against a sofa and trained the crossbow at the door with a distressed heavy breathing.

This wasn't a cave, it was the underside of a vehicle!



-"The MHCM is sorry for the property damage it has done, we hereby attempt to compensate." The voice outside spoke, then slowly walked off.
Jogh didn't understand a thing, property damage? Compensate? He looked at his wife who looked equally confused.
Djorn was crying and Moraven was burying her head in her knees with the blanket over her head.

Outside a loud thud was heard, followed by several very heavy sets of footsteps. Mechanical pistons hissed and clanked as at least three... things moved about and began doing things to their home. The truck was briefly lifted in the back, some sort of drill was heard and perhaps a saw revved up and began cutting.
Jogh feared the worst, they were trying to cut their way in. But why not the door? The machine man could easily smash its way in, these other things sounded way bigger than that one.

The truck was gently set down, the heavy footsteps then walked off to where the massive thud was first heard.
Then the rumbling began anew, the shaking was almost as bad as the first time, their home shook and they all prayed to their ancestors, some sort of god, anything really to save them from death.

Which never came.
The storm had eased, while it was still bad it was light outside again and in the distance the rumble disappeared with the storm.
With an amazed glee Jogh hugged his wife and his kids, they were safe.
After some time the weather was like nothing had happened, they even went outside to look how bad their vehicle had fared.

It was evident that something had smashed into the rear end, dragged it around and broken the rear axle. What was strange though was that the damage had been mostly fixed with fresh weld seams and a new steel plate here and there.
Jogh wasn't going to question the sense of it all, some sort of divine power had watched over them that day. So he just clasped his chest and whispered.
-"Thank you." To whatever had saved him from doom.
-"Jogh, i got the anchors, i don't like these tracks." Maria said while pointing at the ground, there was undeniably massive tracks in the sands from some sort of vehicle, easily several roads wide.
-"I agree, let's get out of here! I don't want to run into that again." Jogh said with a serious tone to Maria, his initial glee from surviving had passed and now he felt paranoid.

Off to Orglas, the city in the west.

Outskirts of Dawnhill
Airbase - Runway AC
4:32 pm

“Niner-Sixty Four, premission granted to take off from runway A-C” the sound of the radio dispatcher talking over the scout planes intercom was heard.

“Thanks Dispatch” the pilot of the scout aircraft said.

“Weather’s pretty alright Vinny, we may run into a usual sandcloud at 12000 feet but nothing our scrubber’s can’t handle.” the co-pilot said.

“Focus on the mission Benny, then drinks on me afterwards” Vinny chuckled as he completed the last of the take off checklists.

“Tower, Niner-Sixty Four is taking off” Vinny said over the intercom

“Over, enjoy the views” the tower replied.

The scout plane flew off from the airstrip which was paved with asphalt. The exterior of the plane was painted in a greyish black color with the number “9-64S”. On the outside one could assume it was a transport plane or a trading plane.. Which was it’s original use. Now on the inside it’s fitted with various of radar, sound equipment, but also camera’s to take pictures of the surronding area’s and lands. The crew inside of the plane featured roughly 10 men. 3 flight crew and 7 servicemen. Most the service men had earned there stripes in the recon division of the Coin Army but now due to old age or simply unfit for active recon duty have been dispatched to feature in the airforce. A modest post one could say, decent pay and a good atmosphere for the officers to operate in.

“Billy, you hear about Zhang? Guy got the fucking post” shouted an old voice, seen calibrating a instrument.

“Zhang deserves it you fucker, he placed in more work then you ever will Harry” said a voice, somewhat chuckling while seen filling out a log.

“Yea yea well atleast -..” Billy started before beign cut off by another voice

“Cut it out both of you, we got shit to do, back to your post’s yea?” another voice shouted, before he too returned back to typign something on a monitor.

In the pilot’s cabin there was a sense of calm. Pilot’s often had the easiest schedules in the military compared to other departments. Pilot’s only worked a max of 40 hours a week. Of course the major drawbacks were pilots promotions were restricted as well as there pay. The top pilots earn roughly the same as a sergeant working for the ground forces.

“12000 confrimed, autopilot deployed.” Benny said.

“What the fuck do they expect to find now? It’s been the second plane in 4 weeks and all we’ve found is the usual fugative or bandit camp” stated the third voice in the cockpit

“Eh’ relax Cath, trust me I was the same during my few intial flights.. It’ll get better trust” Vinny said.

“Right, right.. Thrusters are at 50%, energy consumption is average sir” Cathy said, writing these figures down on the log sheet.

The ship slowly moved throughout it’s usual pattern nothing abnormal occured for the first few hours until roughly the forth hour into the flight.

“Should I use long range and get us a recall back to base?” asked Benny, leaning back on the pilot seat.”

“Negative don’t worry-..” Vinny began to say before being cut off by Cathy

“Crew has spotted civilian buggy, seems to have it’s occupants outside of it, requesting we bank to the right.” Cathy stated.

“Affrimative, Benny plot course to the right using the manual.”

Benny nodded before he grasped onto a book with a white cover. He casually skimmed through the pages of the map before checking it with the radar to where they extacly where. After that he merely plugged a set of numbers and the plane drifted to that location. The plane flew over some cloudcover before encovering a huge spaceship… commonly refered to as a hulk.

“Mother of god..quick call HQ we found a fucking Hulk!” Vinnny shouted!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawnhill

Overseer’s Court

A few group of merchants walked into a building, at the front of them was a throne with a male sitting on top of it, wearing a black silk coat and a white shirt, black pants and a set of black shoes. He had a gold watch on his wrist and simply looked foward at the group. A group of guards stop the group midway before searching them. They found nothing and the group proceeded foward. A man rose up from the side of the asile, and nodded to the Overseer, the overseer nodded back.

“Overseer, these merchants were apart of the smuggling scheme, all three are suspects Oversser”

A man walked up to the throne and handed the overseer a beige file. The overseer took it and briefly skimmed over the contents of it. He nodded before handing it back to the man. The man departed the vicinity of the throne and blended back into the crowd on the sides. The overseer then spoke.

“Begin with the trial” the Overseer stated.

For the next few hours a trial was seen occuring in the court of the Overseer. In Dawnhill the overseer was the supreme justice system one could say. If a disupte couldn’t be settled via asking the military or through trade it would be brought up to the court. The trial was about a smuggling operation that some officers found out about. A group of merchants were moving unregistered weapons, and some narcotics into the city without legal premits or being properly taxed. The crime was considered of notable worth mainly because one of the suspects was linked to a high ranking trade diplomat in another city. A lot of eye’s were on the case due to that reason, so the defense and the prosecution had a burden on there shoulders to worry about.

“Overseer, it was a simple miscommunication between parties, my client didn’t realize he was moving the amount over the le-...” the defense said before being cut off by the prosecution.

“Honorable Overseer, you're telling me that the son of a trading diplomat wouldn’t know a legal limit of goods or that he needed a permit and proper taxation papers? This is hearsay your honor, this should b-..”

“Overseer this occurs all the time goods are-..” the defense began to say before the Overseer raised his hand up. Both sides sat down and simply looked at the Overseer, the suspects also stared.

“The evidence provided to be show’s there was intent yes, The arresting Trade Private on the scene did use proper Coin protocol when arresting and sentencing the suspects. However the amount was only 5-10 pounds over the legal limit. Not only that but it is the first offense of this man.” The Overseer began.

“I hereby, in this court sentence George Wilkerson the Fourth to having his trade license revoked until 2 years and having to pay a fine of 40 hours in the service of the City of Dawnhill” The Overseer ended off with before getting off from his seat. Chatter then restarted again. The prosecution smiled to the defence as he walked off. As the Overseer walked towards the administration room he was greeted by a messenger.

“Overseer, important urgent news regarding a scouting find” stated the Messenger

The overseer opened up the message and nodded for a brief moment. He handed back the message before saying: “ Summon the heads, get me the head of the Engineering and Science guilds”.

(A Monks x Spleen collab)



"This is odd." Cordelia said for the third time since they had arrived at their destination. The building that ARC commando Lyssa had been sent to investigate was there. A small rectangular structure that looked more like a bunker than anything else. Cordelia wouldn't have believed that it stretched underground except for the fifteen cars parked nearby; the passengers were no where to be found.

Cordelia and Oscar had found Lyssa's dust jumper hoverbike nearby; it had been utterly destroyed and almost thrashed beyond recognition. What had prompted Cordelia's first statement of "odd" was that every single one of the cars had themselves been sabotaged. Stranger still had been the fact that all of the supplies in these very cars had also been sabotaged. This had elicited Cordelia's second statement about the situation being odd.

The third one had come when the pair approached the building. It was there that they found two bandits sitting on either side of the entrance. They had bled to death after their throats had been cleanly cut.

"Think they're killing each other off?" Cordelia asked as she knelt next to one of the bodies.

Oscar shook his head, "No, this isn't the work of a Vagrant." He knelt down and ran his finger across the now dried wound. "Some one skilled pulled this one off, and seeing as the person we're looking for fits that skill set. It's safe to say Lyssa was here." He stood up and pushed the body over with his boot.

"We need to be careful, I'd hate to end up like them." Oscar continued while slowly unbuttoning the guard on his handgun's holster. His gaze turned towards the bunker and then at the rapidly approaching dust storm. It's swirling storm of sound and fury quickly barreled upon them, it's imposing figure was flanked by rapid flashes of silent lightning that illuminated the edges of the turbulent desert typhoon.

"It's time to move." Oscar said, motioning towards the bunker.

"Ok." Cordelia said as she pulled a tiny pistol out from where it had been concealed in her boot. The thing looked small even in her hands. She peered inside of the bunker, her eyes immediately drawn to the flight of stairs that headed down. "So you're saying Lyssa snuck past the two hundred or so men that drove here, slit the throat of these two men, sabotaged all these vehicles out here and the supplies they carried, and then what? Go back into this bunker? Unless I miscounted there are still fifteen cars out here plus her thrashed dust jumper, so its not like she drove away."

Finding the interior too dark to navigate by, Cordelia pulled a flashlight out of her pack and turned it on. The beam of light revealed a rather long flight of stairs. She looked at Oscar, her expression all but asking "who first."

"Well, judging by the fifteen vehicles, there has to be at least seven thousand men inside, and I'm the best arm wrestler here, I'll go first." Oscar said with a sarcastic smirk. He gazed about the interior and then focused on the steps, "Be sure to watch for anything suspicious, place could have traps." he said quietly before taking the first step.

"Suspicious" Cordelia muttered as the pair reached the bottom of the stairs. The somewhat tight stairway opened up into a large room. Perhaps at one time it had been a reception hall, with a large front desk still standing. Most of the doors and hallways that led out of the reception hall had caved in, although there where still several options to choose from.

"Such as this?" She indicated another pair of dead raiders who had apparently been standing guard in this room. "Is it just me or are these guys oddly organized for 'simple' bandits?"

Oscar looked around before holstering his pistol, "I agree." He simply stated before walking towards one of the few remaining hallways. He took a few cautious steps through yet another doorway. The innards were filled with high tech equipment, though mostly in the form of computer displays that had long since faded to black. There were no bodies to be seen in the room. "Cordelia, Take a look in here. You think any of these still work?"

Cordelia let out a whistle when she stepped next to Oscar. She peered around the room for a moment before commenting. "Hard to say. You'd definitely have to bring your own power source. Of course the fact that that computer has had the dust wiped away from its screen implies someone thought they might be able to use it." Cordelia pointed towards one of the computers in the back. "Maybe they were kind enough to leave their power source behind."

The two moved through the room towards the computer, which Oscar being the first to notice what looked like a large worn backpack with a strange orange canister barely visible inside. From it were a few wires. "This must be the power cell who ever used. Strange for someone to leave a powerful device like this just sitting here." He knelt down and plugged the cell into the computers outlet. It took a few seconds but the screen eventually flickered to life.

"Strange indeed" Cordelia muttered as she typed a few commands into the computer. She was half guessing as to what to actually do. Despite this she still managed to pull up some data onto the screen. "I think..." Cordelia said, "that this was the last thing viewed. I just have no idea what I'm looking at. Some sort of technical data for sure."

Oscar pointed at what looked like a engine of sorts. "This doesn't look like your typical jet engine." He said, outlining its much larger size. Next to it was what looked like a dotted line protruding from a very rough looking sphere. "I wonder what that is supposed to mean."

"Do you have anything to copy this data to?" he asked.

"Of course." Cordelia said as she reached into her pack and pulled out a small tub-like object no larger than her pinky finger. "Though I think I'm just going to pull out all of these hard drives and take them with me on the way out." She attached the device to one of the computer's ports as she spoke. "Still... it wouldn't be funny if all of this data was lost cause some raider lobbed a grenade in here before we returned."

After a minute she withdrew the device and returned it to her pack. "So..." She said as she turned to Oscar. "Are you as clueless about all of this stuff as I am?"

Oscar nodded in agreement before noticing the ground gently trembling from the storm that had finally reached the facility. Loud howls of wind echoed from the outside, amplified by the narrow corridors. "We need to find a place to hole up." he said before starting towards the door. He peered out into the hallway only to be pushed back by a powerful gust of sandy wind. The screeching from bending metal kept the two off balance before a loud crash returned stability to the room.

"Guess we are stuck here. I hope my car is ok." he said grimly as the staircase had been destroyed and blocked off by a cave in.

"I hope that wasn't the only exit." Cordelia added grimly. "Want to head in deeper or...?" She sort of just shrugged.

"Only one way to find out." Oscar said, looking down the hallway. "I'm always ok going deeper." he added, winking at Cordelia.

Cordelia simply rolled her eyes, picked one of the halls at random, and started walking. She was pretty sure if she said anything he'd turn it into an innuendo, so she didn't. At least until they reached their first intersection of hallways which came with its own body. Just one this time. The raider, like the previous ones, had a slit throat.

"O!" Cordelia didn't so much speak a word as make a sound as she looked over the body. "I think she booby trapped this one."

"Maybe its best if we skip this'n then." Oscar said. He examined the area around the dead body, noticing it seemed to be a more fresh kill than the others. "Strange." he said, noting the lack of any weapons on the raider.

He piqued his brow as he noticed a grenade tucked neatly in the bandits arm pit. It was barely visible to even the trained eye. "We really need to be careful here."

"Yup." Cordelia agreed as she rose to her feet. She started down the hall again. The faint sound of a boot stepping on something like glass drifted from the direction she was headed, though Cordelia seemed to have not heard it.

Oscar quickly moved to Cordelia and grasped her upper arms. As he pulled her aside, "Shh" he said while gazing over her shoulder towards the hallway. "Don't make a sound. Something is down there." he whispered while expecting the worst.

The scuffing of more than one pair of boots emitted from around a nearby corner. Cordelia's eyes widened slightly as she knelt down and pointed her pistol towards the corner. She had definitely heard it this time.

"Careful." Oscar whispered while readying himself. The first figure walked around the corner, oblivious to the two operatives. There was no way this was a ARC commando or any special force at all. It was the most savage of all crazed men, a damned raider. Oscar furrowed his brow and lunged at the first, pushing him into the man behind him, knocking the second raider to the ground. He quickly pushed his fist deep into the first raiders gut before looking to Cordelia. "Shoot him!" he shouted, pointing at a third Raider quickly moving towards them.

Cordelia pulled the trigger without a moment's hesitation. Her shot went wide and to the right, almost hitting Oscar in the head. Thankfully his head was just an inch lower than the bullet's path. Her second shot was right on the mark, striking the third raider right in the side of the head.

Oscar dodged a wide swing from the first Raider while the second had finally regained his balance, who then grasped his submachine gun and pointed it towards Cordelia. The Raider pulled the trigger but his rifle was slapped away by Oscar. This gave the first raider took advantage of Oscars rush to protect Cordelia and kicked him hard in the gut.

Cordelia flinched as the submachine gun's burst of bullets struck the wall next to her. She took a deep breath and pointed her tiny pistol at the second raider, trying to aim despite the intense way her hands were now shaking. She fired twice, both rounds missing by feet.

Even as her shots did not hit a mark, they did assist by keeping the first raiders head down, giving Oscar the chance to reveal an unnecessarily large handgun. Two blasts were sent into the second raider, both splattering his head. Before the body could even hit the floor, the first raider rushed at Oscar, knocking his hand cannon towards Cordelia.

"Dont... Touch." he strained to Cordelia, trying to keep the raiders hands away from his neck. "my gun." Oscar said before gathering his strength and planting his knee directly into the Raiders groin. The man let out a yelp and rose up, granting Oscar a clear shot into the Raiders neck. It was a simple, yet hard strike that collapsed his throat.

The Raider fell to his side, while gripping his own neck and gasping for air. Oscar walked up to him and smirked before stomping his head twice. "Whew." he said simply, walking towards Cordelia.

Cordelia rose to her feet, her hands shaking so hard she almost dropped her tiny pistol. "We got them." It was as much a question as a statement. She offered Oscar an unsure smile.

"You ok?" Oscar said, leaning over to pick both her and his weapons from the floor. "You did good." he stated in an attempt to calm her down.

"Yea. Yea." The slight waver in her voice implied otherwise. "I'm... just not used to this." She gestured towards the fallen bodies. She took a few calming breaths before adding "Usually I just run and leave behind a few nasty present."

Oscar knelt over to examine the first raiders body. "Well, we can still leave behind a surprise." he said, pulling a bandolier from the raider Hanging from it were two grenades, "If you want to set a trap, this would be a good chance. It's not like anyone nearby wouldn't have heard that gunfire."

"That's a-" Her eyes widened as she heard something from the direction they had come from. She spun in place, bringing her pistol to bare. The raider, who had just stepped into view seemed just as startled as she was and hesitated. She fired first. Her shot hit his shoulder and bounced off of the metal armor plate he had covering it. When she pulled the trigger a second time nothing happened.

The raider put his rifle to his shoulder and fired. The round struck Cordelia in the shoulder. She spun once before dropping to the ground like a rock.

Oscar's eyes opened wide as the event unfolded, and him being helpless to stop it. The initial shock rapidly wore off as he dashed at the raider with a furious cry. The rifle was knocked from his left hand by a swift palm strike and then firmly gripped the Raider's face with his left, pushing the back of his head into the wall repeatedly. The Raider tried fighting back but he was powerless against his foe who had now broken the Raider's head open against the wall. As the red splatter grew larger and larger, the Raider grew limper before finally succumbing to gravity. The now lifeless body lay at Oscars feet.

His angry snarl finally faded as he rushed to Cordelia. Oscar knelt by her, checking the wound to see if it went through or was lodged inside her body, all the while applying pressure to her wound.

"We... need to... move" Cordelia managed to say between gasps of pain. Her face, now pale, grimaced in pain as she forced herself into a sitting position. "Others... must have... heard that." The thudding of boots in the distance punctuated her point. "Help me up."

Oscar didn't waste any time in helping her up. He did her best to keep her propped up as they rushed into a nearby room. It was dimly lit and rather bare compared to the others they had passed before. The center was a large square machine of sorts that did provide the necessary cover to catch their breath.

"We're safe for now." he assured her while peeking occasionally behind them towards the door. "They're going to come looking so just stay down."

Cordelia simply gave him a small nod of her head, keeping a hand pressed against the bleeding hole in her shoulder. Her eyes widened slightly as the soft thuds of a large man walking sounded in the hall outside. She moved behind the large machine and bit her lower lip. The man, clearly a raider, stepped into view, gazed into the room for a moment and simply kept walking.

Letting out a soft sigh in relief Cordelia poked her head out from behind the machine, only to take a sharp gasp as she saw the form of someone rush past their room. "Did you see that?" She whispered, not entirely sure she wasn't seeing hallucinations of blonde women wearing form fitting clothes.

Her words fell upon deaf ears as Oscar had already moved to the door way. He did however see the blur before he pressed himself against the wall. His figure nearly blending in with the shadows of the room. Oscar checked his handgun before weighing the options to strike the Raider or not. His eyes did shift to Cordelia and decided it best not to move, instead, he took aim towards the door, and further disappeared from Cordelia's view.

The only sound from the hall was the large man's foots steps. Then there was a grunt, followed by the muffled cry. The thud of a body hitting the floor soon followed. And then nothing.

Dead silence piqued Oscar's ears but his training urged caution. He looked to Cordelia once more before deciding to edge as close to the door as possible without stepping from it. With just enough room to see the Raiders body without exposing his entire head, he examined the situation.

The hall was occupied by two bodies. One, the raider, lay bleeding on the floor. The other, a blonde woman wearing what could only be called a catsuit, stood over the raider. The woman had her back to Oscar, her attention on the hallway he and Cordelia had been in just a minute ago. The blonde seemed to be listening to something based off of the way her head was cocked slightly to the side. After a moment she knelt next to the raider a wiped the knife she had in her hand on the man's clothes.

She was certainly a sight to take in. Her long blonde hair, tied into a loose braid, did little to hide the two kukri blades sheathed on the small of her back or the rather large revolver resting on her thigh. A belt on her waist carried several objects, two of which were clearly grenades.

"Alright Lady." Oscar said as he emerged slowly from the door. His gun aimed directly at her center figure. "I aint no backwastes raider so don't make a move you're gonna regret."

The woman turned her head ever so slightly so she could look at Oscar at of the corner of her eye. Now that Oscar could see her face a bit she had a haggard look to her, as if she hadn't slept for a week or two. Even with bags under them, her eyes darted about, taking Oscar and all of his surroundings in in a moment before focusing on his eyes.

"You are, forsooth, more disciplined than these louts." She agreed after a moment. Her enunciation was near perfect.

"Forsooth?" Cordelia asked from where she rested by the machine. "Did she just say forsooth?" The blonde woman either didn't hear Cordelia or chose to ignore her.

Oscar wasn't impressed by her figure at all, "Yeah, what the hell is forsooth." he asked, while still perfectly fixated on the woman.

The woman let out a long sigh before saying "You need not worry about it." She tilted her head away from Oscar for a moment, possibly hearing something down the hall, before returning her attention to him.

He rose his pistol to her head, "So who are you?" he said plainly.

"How dreadful." The woman didn't look the least bit fazed by Oscar's pistol. "Why don't you point that puissant firearm elsewhere and introduce yourself first?" She gave Oscar a winning smile.

Oscar gave a smile in kind before slowly lowering his gun, but still obviously keeping it ready. "I asked first, Who are you?"

The woman regarded Oscar for a moment before inclining her head ever so slightly. "Lyssa." She said. "Of Bastion Atheneum. And you are?"

Oscar rested his hand at those words, "I am Oscar." he said simply.

"And may I inquire as to who your companion is?" Lyssa asked.

Oscar stepped closer to the door, as if to block it. "That's my partner, Dead eye."

"I see." Lyssa said as she took a step away from Oscar. The motion shifted her stance so the side of her body was pointed towards Oscar instead of her back. It also conveniently hide her left hand from view. "Well then Mr Oscar and Miss Dead Eye," Lyssa said. "I shall leave the two of you to whatever activity you were previously engaged in."

"Lyssa, hold up. We have been sent to retrieve you." Oscar said, in a tone unlike him.

"Forsooth?" Lyssa asked.

"What does that even mean?" Cordelia asked, having moved from behind the machinery to the entry to the hall.

"In truth. Indeed." Lyssa answered.

"Ok. That's cool." Cordelia said. "Oscar. Why don't we stop playing this game and just say the phrases the Librarium gave us? I'd really hate for the two of you to be gunned downed by some raiders cause you were too busy comparing the size of your dicks."

"Miss Dead Eye is quite... quaint." Lyssa said, a frown on her face.

"Oh, right." Oscar said towards Cordelia. He turned his attention back to Lyssa, "Alright. So your Uncle Chris wants to tell you about the project. then when we get back to town, I'm gonna buy you a drink."

"Drinks!" Cordelia said. "We'll buy you multiple drinks!"

Lyssa gave Oscar a once over before nodding. "Very well. I recognize that you were sent here on behalf of the Librarium." She shifted her stance again, this time so she faced Oscar fully, both of her hands now fully in view. "Shall we leave this place before more of our foes come upon us?"

"Yeah, we need to get outta here quick." He motioned towards Cordelia, "You've been hit pretty bad and the nearest way out is blocked in. Not to mention that raging dust storm up top."

"Excellent. That means I need not fear them fleeing." Lyssa said as she took a few steps in the direction she had originally came from. "I'll show you were I've stashed some of my supplies. I should have something to deal with that gunshot."

"Wait. You intend to fight them all?" Cordelia asked.

"Verily" Lyssa answered. "We wouldn't want to risk one of them returning with reinforcements."

Oscar cracked his knuckles, "Shouldn't be too difficult." he said before looking to Cordelia, "But first things first, lets get her patched up."

"This way." Lyssa took the lead. She led the group through a variety of hallways, her head always on a swivel. A few times she paused mid-step, only to have the whole group backtrack and choose an alternative route. After about ten minutes, though to Cordelia it felt like ten hours, the group reached their destination.

The room, unlike the rest of the facility, had not a speck of dust in it. A bed with clean sheets had been set up, as well as a few other pieces of furniture. There were also no fewer than five booby traps that Lyssa disabled before allowing her two guests in.

"Could I bother you to stand guard in the hallway while I tend to your companion?" Lyssa asked.

"Sure thing." Oscar said before looking to Cordelia once more. He gave no words of comfort but merely a simple wink before stepping outside the room. He found cover behind a large piece of ceiling that had collapsed long ago.

"This will only take a minute." Lyssa spoke loud enough for Oscar to hear from the hallway. "Now would you be so kind as to remove your top?" Cordelia complied, allowing Lyssa to get a good look at the injury. "Hmm... I suppose it would be prudent to stitch your wounds."

By this point Cordelia had decided that Lyssa spoke in a very proper fashion. It was odd, to say the least. Especially when compared to Oscar's more slang prone speech. She was also not sure if Lyssa simply spoke in a weird way or was somehow insane. Given that she had trapped all those raiders with her Cordelia was inclined to think the later.

"Looks like it went straight through. Thankfully nothing vital was hit." By this point Lyssa was finishing up with the stitching, something Cordelia was quite happy about, and covering the shoulder with some bandages. "You should be fit to move." Lyssa added. "Moving on to our next topic: did the Librarium send you two to take charge of the mission or are you reporting to me?"

Did Cordelia really want to follow the orders of a woman she thought insane? The thought made her hesitate.

Oscar wasn't in the room but was able to hear the two clear as day, he replied quickly, "We are here to help you complete it." he said, "But he didn't let us know what the mission was, fear of compromise and such."

"Excellent." Lyssa said, a hint of relief in her voice. "All patched up." Cordelia put her shirt back on before Lyssa said "You may return now Mr Oscar."

After one last scan of the hallway, Oscar fell back into the room. "So, Lyssa, what's so important about this mission."

"More than we had believed initially." Lyssa said without specifying who 'we' entailed. "Forsooth, this will change everything."

"But what is the mission?" Cordelia asked.

"It has been our long standing goal, nay our dream, to reach the great expanse of space once again." Lyssa said. "For decades we, Librarios, has been laboring to make this dream a reality."

"What do you mean the 'great expanse of space'?" Cordelia asked.

"I mean the void in which our home planet rests in." Lyssa answered. "This facility," She continued, "served as a sort of terminal for craft bound for space. Once we had learned of its existence, the Librarium dispatched me in the hopes that I might find something useful here. Even a badly corrupted data storage device would have been a great boon."

"The Elevator back at bastion was used for that. And lets not forget the space port where the military found its super fighter planes." Oscar said sarcastically, "So what makes this place any different?"

"This facility was built before the elevator. At least that is what I believe." Lyssa said. "As it was initially used to propel satellites into orbit via rockets."

"A... satellite?" Coredelia prompted.

"Small, man-made devices that could do everything from acting like radio towers to spying on people. Given their size they had very limited propulsion systems."

"Uh... then what kept them from simply falling back down?" Cordelia asked.

"They moved faster than they fell." Lyssa answered.

"That doesn't make sense." Cordelia said. She looked at Oscar, then back at Lyssa. The expression on her face made it clear she was sure Lyssa was trying to pull a prank.

"Cordelia." Oscar said, trying to figure out a way to simply explain it, "You know how a plane works, right? how if it stops thrusting it will fall? It's the same thing." he shrugged, "Never thought I'd see anything like this in person though. I wonder what it'd be like trapped in a rocket with you, Cordelia. Bet it'd be fun." he said with a mischievous smirk.

"Don't rockets explode?" Cordelia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not necessarily." Lyssa commented.

"Huh..." Cordelia said. "Ok. So this facility is more than you expected. I don't see why you didn't just grab as much data as possible and fled once those raiders arrived."

"As much as I would have loved to" Lyssa said, "I would have had to leave far too much behind. The information here will advance our timeline by decades." By this point she had begun to fiddle with Cordelia's outfit, brushing off some dust from her shoulder. Her hands moved to rearrange some things on the woman's belt, but stopped when Cordelia gave her an odd look. Lyssa gave a sheepish smile in return before adding "And I'm fairly certain these raiders were expecting me to be here."

Oscar nodded, "Yeah, that's what it looks like. So whats the plan, stay here and wait for raiders to finish us off? or get the hell outta' here, cause I think your intel mission is over."

"Unfortunately it is not that simple." Lyssa said. "We will have to kill them. All of them."

"Uh... what?" Cordelia asked. "Aren't there at least fifty of them roaming these halls?"

"Thankfully that is not the case." Lyssa said. "While I must admit that I never had the chance to do a head count with them all in one place, I strongly suspect that they numbered only thirty upon their arrival."

"Only thirty?" Cordelia asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"I have killed ten of them thus far." Lyssa ignored Cordelia. "The rest are becoming more and more erratic with each passing day, despite the small amount of formal training they have received. It will be a simple matter for the three of us to rid this place of those louts."

"Yeah, Deadeye here was convinced there were at least two thousand. give or take a hundred." Oscar readied his weapon, "Lets get to it."

"I beseech you, give me the opportunity to catch some much needed rest." Lyssa said. "I haven't had the luxury of a good night's sleep for a week now."

Oscar sighed, "Guess I'll keep watch then. You got any weapons stashed here? I'm confident in my gun here but more could never hurt."

"I've stored the raiders' weapons in that chest over there." Lyssa indicated a chest in the far corner of the room with a hand.

"Wait. You said these raiders had some formal training." Cordelia said.

"Yes." Lyssa agreed.

"Are you saying they were trained by someone from the Union or Yandran army?" Cordelia asked.

"Someone from Librarios could have trained them as well." Lyssa said, neither agreeing or disagreeing with Cordelia. "Whoever trained them clearly lacked the time or incentive to do a good job. I suspect they were trained by only a week. Perhaps two. Long enough to instill the degree of discipline they have displayed, but not the level one would expect from a professional army."

"Any way it goes, I doubt they'd notice some well placed grenade traps and certainly aren't prepared for me." Oscar said, now rummaging through the chest. "Ah, and here we go. These guys certainly packed some serious hardware." He said, pulling a belt-fed light machinegun from the chest, "I'm starting to think they were out just for you." he said with a grin.

"We are of like mind then." Lyssa said. "Given their timing, determination, and equipment I believe it is highly likely they are here to end me and this very facility. The jamming device and plastic explosives are items I have found especially alarming."

Oscar turned to the chest again, seeing the explosives further in, "Damn, we got lucky they didn't get a chance to set them." He left for the door, stopping just before the doorway "Lets just hope they don't have any more."

"I assure you, luck had nothing to do with it." Lyss said as she walked over to the bed she had set up in the room. "And I am fairly confident that they do not have the amount of explosives necessary to complete their objective. At least not without those bricks. I would also hope they would be wise enough to realize that detonating explosives would not be healthy for them while they are still trapped inside here."

"Now if you don't mind," Lyssa continued, "I'll rest my eyes for an hour and then we can rid this place of those louts." She didn't wait for a reply, simply closing her eyes as she laid down.

Cordelia stepped next to Oscar and whispered "Am I alone in thinking she's crazy?"

"Heh, My kind of crazy." Oscar nodded before gazing into Cordelia's eyes. "But you'll always be mine." His perky attitude seemed to instantly turn grim, "You think we will make it outta here? I've heard of these ancient buried places having more horrors than just idiot raiders."

"Honestly? I think we're fine so long as our forsoothing ARC commando is on our side." Cordelia said. "I'm just not confident she won't flip out on us. I mean seriously. Forsooth? Who says that?" She frowned before adding. "Let's not mention her sister until after we are out of this mess."

Oscar didn't seem pleased with her initial comments, "So you didn't think we were fine when it was just you and me?" he broke it up with a half hearted chuckle, "I met her sister, wasn't a big fan but If they have anything in common it's that they were both strong willed."

"Didn't this sister never mention Lyssa to her fiancee?" Cordelia asked. "I would think that means she either hated her or was embarassed to be related."

"Few people knew of her sister, Gibson was not one of them." Oscar replied, "And maybe Marissa never mentioned Lyssa due to separate missions or some such. It's why the NIS won't let family members work near each other knowingly. There's always exceptions like in a crisis, but people are more likely to talk to people they know well."

"Maybe..." Cordelia didn't sound convinced, but was ready to let the topic go. "Let's just keep an eye on her and be wary of whatever else is in here." After a moment she added "And I'll grant you the honor of arm wrestling any rust monsters we find into submission."

Oscar moved a little closer, sneaking his arm behind her, "But I think you'd do so well under pressure, like if a creature began crawling up your back." He said playfully, crawling his fingers up her back.

Cordelia jumped in surprise and then winced. "Oh that hurts." She reached towards her wounded shoulder and then thought better of it. "Yea, you are definitely going to have to do the arm wrestling."

Once the small scavenger crew had stumbled upon a Space Hulk, word had quickly spread like wild fire of its discovery, from all corners of the the Great Wastes, to the Oasis States, all now have been made aware of its presence and so the great Hulk race begins once again. Yandras was quick to respond, known for their endless greed for Pre-Calamity Technology, they mobilize their Hulk hunting forces, the A.R.E.F., to seize the gargantuan artifact with overwhelming force.


Somewhere in the Great Wastes
Yandran Land Carrier Divine Might
Two Weeks after Hulk Discovery,
General Isan Kasius, Leader of the Artifact Retrieval Expeditionary Forces, strolled along the landing strip of the Land Carrier, taking in the rather limited sights of the Great Wastes, the breeze was quite pleasant enough for him though. Flanking him was his second-in-command, Commander Malik Bradely. "Just a few more days..." Isan said with such regal arrogance of a man such as himself as they continued walking down the surface of the carrier. "And the hulk is ours.." The General had good reason to feel confident, never before has Yandras assembled such a force, the Land Carrier itself was a recent addition as of some years ago, never fully tested for combat, until now that is. As the commanding pair paused near the edge of the landing strip, they both take notice of a small group of rusted hovercraft surfing through the sands alongside the Carrier.

These craft had belonged to a particularity nasty group known as the Sand Sharks, a band of Raiders under the "employment" of the Ascendant Republic. The group primarily consisted of two xeno races, the Boar-like Yamorks, and the pale-skinned Grogar, both barbaric in their very nature. The Sand Sharks had assured their continued loyalty, provided they are giving their rather small share of the hulk loot. The Hovercraft soon sped ahead of the carrier, acting as the vanguard, kicking up a storm as sand dispersed in the air. Isan and Malik covering their mouths and keeping their eyes shut as the sand passed through. "Damn it." Malik muttered. "Just had this clean..."

"Oh don't bother with that." The General said. "They may be uncouth brutes, but they get the necessary work done. Come, I've had enough of the sights." The two proceed back towards the Command Tower, resuming their limited duties until they at last arrive to their destination.

The storm had passed, the KR 112 was now visible from far and wide in the scorching desert sun.

Upon its control tower the letters Kr 112 was easily seen in prominent white, even if it was slightly worn. The entire hull was rusted on the surface, here and there gleaming steel was seen and in some areas bits of green camo paint was still seen.
A relic from the past, a leviathan of steel, titanium and wires in the form of the mutated lovechild of a fortified factory and a battleship. With cranes armour plating turrets and massive cannons all along its structure, all of it suspended ten yards above the ground on massive triangular track sections.
It made the ground tremble with its surprising momentum, the tracks heaving up tonnes of sand as it zoom along the flat sand.

The area was getting more fertile, the ground was cracked and the odd bush and cacti could be seen, one cacti squished beneath a track like nothing as the KR 112 thundered forward. On the horizon trees could be seen from the lookout tower in the centre of the vehicle about two thirds to the back.
MK IV stood there in the office drone gazing out over the stiff sandy ground and towards the horizon.

youtube.com/watch?v=QvYi1MRvX_o

The trees in the distance grew closer, the ground began to show more and more signs of fertility with patches of grass below small tree gatherings around small mud beds. Once they used to be watering holes but time was not kind to this land. The forests of old were almost gone, only the mighty rivers could keep water to the dying land so only the land closest to them and some rare others still had the trees of old.
On the right, an ancient ruin now jutted up from the ground, a toppled over skyscraper, a few of its windows still intact, reflecting light from the scorching sun.

MK IV remember guarding this building long ago, back when it still stood.
A simple job it was, it was mostly to prove to the locals that the defense corps had the situation under control... looking back at it would suggest that they didn't have it under control after all.
He remembered a child stretching out a hand to him, he remember failing protocol and extending his left hand to let the child touch his mechanical shining black hand. The sun shone with a pleasant sheen, the white marble stone glistened and the glass walled buildings white pillars of purity.
The child was smiling as it reached him in slow motion, the call of its mother was as clear as yesterday.
-"Don't touch it, it's dangerous." As the child touched him the scene went from the bright and pleasant to a nightmarish hellscape.

Its face bereft of its skin and most of the muscle, the eyes hollow and the hair burnt.
The sky rained fire and everything was covered in reddish brown dirt and fallen masonry. Somehow the child still stood, MK IV could hear its thoughts.
-"Why didn't you save us?" The images stopped...

MK IV realised his left hand was outstretched in front of him, the memory didn't fit how the event had unfolded. It didn't make sense.
He never saw the dead child, never heard it. But somehow this memory replay had shown it like that.
Was his memory getting even more degraded? Was the compression of his data files becoming so jumbled that they were becoming intermixed?
Was this just some sort of data damage?
Perhaps it was what humans called a dream, or more like a nightmare. Hallucination?

MK IV lowered his hand, he had been within a drone for too long today he thought.
He knew it was a lie, he was designed to function indefinitely with just minor memory defragmentations required. Day and night, all the data stored for later review, to be drawn upon for the personality engrams.
He had done his best to perform defragmentations. But in truth he lacked the proper knowledge to properly service his own engrams and memory data.
Perhaps he wasn't even supposed to exist anymore? Supposed to be scrapped when the war was won...

He just let the drone stand there and poured his full attention to the KR 112, it was refreshing from time to time. Usually he only let it run at half power, after all it was usually only ever going in a straight line.
But now there was not even a slightest hint of humanoid form, he was a mighty mobile land fortress. He felt the threads upon the ground, the bumps of the suspension, the energy in the circuits and power lines, how the capacitors within hummed with power.

The journey was a long one, perhaps he was starting to understand what the human word 'bored' meant?

Dawnhill Conference Room

8:54 AM

The Conference room was merely a round table with chairs all around it. In the middle of the table was various maps, pictures, books and other information. The room had various figures in it, including Pilot Vinny and Benny from before. The Overseer sat on his chair before a the head of military, Moe Williamson arose. He was dressed in a green uniform with various badges and stripes located on his arm. He rubbed his goatee once before nodding to the Overseer, and looking towards the whole table.

“Gentlemen, at roughly 16 hundred hours, scout ship Niner Sixty four took off from a airstrip on the outskirts of Dawnhill. The plane was on a basic scouting mission to access the area around Dawnhill and to locate any threats, a basic mission with level green clearance. As the mission progressed on, by roughly 17 hundred the group identified a scavenger vehicle, or picture 2A shows the scavenger vehicle and 2 unknown civilians. As the scouting plane went on, we discovered what we can clearly say is a space ship.. Or a Hulk.”

Chatted over flooded the room, various scientists, military officials and even a few people at the table were seen talking. The Overseer raised his hand before the room eventually hushed down.

“What do we know about the area?” The Overseer asked, looking at the map. A male from other side of the table rose up, in a lab coat. He placed a few papers on the table before beginning to speak.

“Well-.. Uh.. Overseer you see.. The area around the Hulk was a urban city center, it’s in ruins now. It’ll be tough to establish a landing strip or at least a temporary area to land without having uh.. Scouted it out first” the scientist said, in a slightly nervous manner.

“Right, what’s the status of our Engineers?” The Overseer asked, viewing a bearded male in his 60s, he had a greyish beard and was wearing a brown trench coat with a plaid shirt and a set of trousers. He stopped slumping on his chair and sat up straight before he began talking.

“Overseer our engineers are ready to go, but as you know from previous events I wouldn’t send our boys nor the boys in the science department anytime soon. For one we need to gather up and establish a convoy but two we need recon units in advance” the engineer responded, and resumed slouching on his chair.

“Right, we’ll split this into phases then. Commander Williamson mobilize a scout force and have them at these coordinates in 24-36 hours, drop ship will be loaded with your armored vehicles and gear, once that is done. Prep convoy’s, you’ll decide what to implement into these convoy’s.” The Overseer began.

“Science and Engineering department, you’ll be going in the second and third convoy’s, divide your men accordingly and set up for a long term mission, 6 months in length before we’ll switch out rosters alright?” The Overseer said, looking at both of the guild heads. They simply nodded and departed their seats.

“I’ll speak with the Head of Trading and People later, for now let’s get first contact on the Hulk. For the crew involved in finding the Hulk, you will receive a commendation and get a month of paid leave, conference dismissed.” The Overseer finished off, before going away from the table, towards his chambers.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Outskirts of Dawnhill

Airstrip

6:21pm

4 Drop Ships were seen loading vehicles, gear and men into their Hulls. Men and Women everywhere while trucks and vehicles were being moved at quick pace. Two Men with berets on their head were seen walking towards one of the drop ships, one of them was Lt. Damian “Quick” Redden and the other was Cpt. Zack “One Shot” Norman.

“A fucking Hulk eh? Norman, believe our luck. We were hunting down fucking bandits a month ago and now this? God bless the fucking Overseer.” Redden chuckled walking down the airstrip.

“Eh’ we running this operation as well, god bless though I mean.. What we really gonna be doing… covering the ass’s of our guys while we act as guards?” Norman asked, as they neared one of the drop ships.

“I don’t know, no one knows… first Hulk and our staff is of mixed rank… command wants rookies to earn their stripes.. A bad idea I think” Redden replied, dropping his gear into the hull.

“Well let’s get fucking going then, adventure awaits.” Norman said, the duo boarded one of the drop ships.

A few hours went by and the drop ships were seen departing, into the air towards the location of the Hulk…

Central Wastes, about a week before present time

Night had fallen over the sands. The rays of the sun, which might once have been a welcome sight on Nabushan, but were now a scorching bane to travellers and settlers alike, had at last abated, and multiple distant, soothingly cool stars had replaced the smouldering orb which had until but some three hours before hung high in the mercilessly clear heavens. Arsat inhaled the tepid, comparatively clean air for what must have been the twentieth time, his relief still undiminished. It was like this every evening. After a day in the wastes, you would not care if your dwelling were a palace or a tent sewn together from old rags, or if you would dine on some well-seasoned exotic viand or the fistful of desiccated roots you could barely scrape together from the bottom of your pack - no, all you would think of was that the refreshing darkness would come. Such a life taught one to appreciate even the simplest things (which was just as well, seeing they were nearly all one had), and Arsat truly did not mind it. Of course, everyone had some dream or ambition - to settle down in an oasis-city was by far the most common of them - but, for the overwhelming majority of wastelanders such as them, these would remain just that for a very long time in the best of cases. For the moment, they had to learn to let what there was suffice.

Truth be told, Arsat himself had apparently not altogether learned that lesson, if one was to judge by his present condition. For he was now far from the settlement which had seen him born, and, instead of returning to his hut after a day's scouring the wastes for something useful, was standing guard at the edge of the camp his party had set up in a comparatively even spot surrounded by sloping dunes. It had all begun a month ago - some wandering traders had brought rumours of a far-off oasis somewhere in the south-east, allegedly unclaimed by any city-state or raider gang, surrounded by various marvels such as "snow", or soft solidified water. While these tales were clearly exaggerated, and the mention of snow was obviously derived from some text on ancient history or the likes, reports of the sighting of unknown oases were not at all common, and Arsat's brothers had concluded there ought to have been at least some truth in the matter. Over the following week, they had persuaded the rest of their family, as well some others, to venture out into the wastes in search of this fabled inland sea. Their main argument had been that, in either case, they would have lost nothing, as the location of their home was neither especially advantageous nor comfortable; and Arsat had to admit it seemed to him a rather valid point indeed. Thus, after over two weeks of travel, here he was, keeping watch over the confines of their cluster of tents and vehicles and occasionally exchanging signs with Iosik when the latter's rounds brought him near his own position.

For lack of any better occupation, he began to ponder the effective usefulness of his activity. If their aftermarket map was in the least reliable, and they had not been mistaken too greatly in estimating their position, this region should have been safe enough for all of them to be able to have a proper night's rest. They were too far from any of the major cities to be concerned with any of them, and their soldiers probably slept like most decent people, while raiders were rare in the night-time, and, in any case, usually made enough noise to wake an army as they approached. One could, of course, mention the machine-men who walked everywhere all year round, but, frankly, Arsat was too old to believe in bogeymen, and there already were enough real dangers in the wastes for there to be the need to invent more. He understood the others wished to know themselves safe, but, in truth, he could not see-

Lost in his thoughts, Arsat did not notice the soft creaking which briefly came from his left, and was only startled out of his meditations when a muffled yelp and a somewhat disquieting piercing sound arising from behind the battered van he had been leaning upon. Clutching his rifle, he carefully began to edge around the vehicle, moving towards its front as he brought himself into position to cast a rapid glance over its engine-bonnet. "Iosik?" he called out quietly. No response came, except for - this time he heard it - a faint creaking, as though someone, or something, heavy were attempting to move stealthily over the sand. Vague yet horrid images swirling in his mind, Arsat, gathering his courage, peered over the frontal part of the van, and gazed into the many pitch-black eyes of a nightmare.

As Arsat watched, frozen in terror, the creature’s head seemed to split into four parts as there erupted from it a horrific roar which sent him reeling backwards, his rifle – what could a rifle do against this thing? – falling uselessly from his numb hands. Stumbling over something, he fell onto his back, and, scrambling wildly, turned about to flee. In the moonlight, he saw that the wastes were not as he had always seen them – not as they should be. There were shadows on the dunes; angular, inhuman shapes rapidly flitting on the whitely lit sand, streaming down towards the encampment. From behind him there came screams, bursts of gunfire and various sounds which his mind would not identify. He struggled to stand up again, the sand seeping away under his grasp; then something heavy landed onto his back, and he felt a painful sharpness boring its way into his neck; then, nothing.

---

Norrog watched as his brethren sifted through the belongings of the slaughtered humans, gathering what few useful items they could find – mostly ammunition, somewhat weathered weapons, an apparently treasured stash of medical supplies – before setting to work upon the vehicles’ fuel tanks. Soon, the camp would become a great bonfire, crackling out a song in praise of Yre-Keltha. The god would be pleased – the hunt had been most successful, and, though these wanderers had not been much of challenge, they had served their part in bearing the brunt of the sacred might. Their deaths had been honourable. Walking back to where he had left his mount, Norrog cast a glance at some of the ash locusts the outriders had brought with them, engaged upon what was now only barely recognisable as the corpse of a sentry who had attempted to crawl away from the scene. It was well. Strength became flesh, and flesh became strength; thus the circle was complete.

As he was about to vault onto his dunecrawler’s back with a single powerful motion, Norrog was approached by one of his companions – a masked human who, he recalled, had left the party some hours before to search the environs for any solitary stragglers. “Brother Disciple” the scout addressed him in hurried tones, “There is something not far which I can swear I have never seen hereabouts before. It might have been a building, but it is unlikely; more than anything, it looks like a hulk.” Norrog squinted with about a third of his eyes. There had been strong storms in the zone of late, and, unlikely as it was, it was fully possible one of them might have uncovered… “Let us rally the others” he growled, turning back towards the camp, from which wisps of smoke had now begun to rise into the nightly air, “The hunt is finished. For now.” The scout’s discovery deserved investigation. It was likely the elders would wish to hear of this.

Great Wastes
Space Hulk Discovery Site
"General Kasius." One of the Bridge staff called. "We're within the described site of the Hulk." The General sat ever so patiently upon his command chair, slowly rising up to the news, taking a glimpse of an easily discernible object over the horizon, the Space Hulk no doubt. "I can certainly see.." He grinned at the sight of it, although, a rather unpleasant realization had quickly set in once he took notice of smoke clouds rising. "Ah...of course." He said to himself. He had repeatedly told himself this would be a simple capture and hold mission, no lowly bandit or scavenger would dare face the new-found might of Yandras, or as said, he told himself so. "No avoiding this mess I say." he continued talking to himself, pulling a small radio-like device from the ceiling just above him. "This is General Kasius to all personnel. " He begun. "We're in red alert, I repeat, red alert, all personnel to your stations, prepare for battle." He loosened his grip onto the device as it recoiled upwards. "And so it begins...for the Glory of Grana and our Republic!"

--------------------------------

Along the landing strip, a row of over a dozen Pilgrim VTOL Craft were lined up, Commander Malik Bradely standing before a company's worth of men and women suited in the Exemplar-series Light Powered Armor. "Within mere minutes, you brave and faithful soldiers are about to embark on another Great Hunt for the treasures of our lost and distant past. You know very well what is within that Hulk, Lost Technology beyond your imagination, technology that will make Yandras stronger then ever!"

The soldiers replied in unison with loud cheers, raising their fists up high. "But this will not be an easy task, there many who would dare stand in our way! Heretics, Bandits, Scavengers, Hulk Hunters, Monsters and many more, but we're are stronger then ever!" He paused for but a mere moment. "For we have brought our full might, this land carrier! None would dare stand against such power!"

More cheers followed. "I dare not waste more time, mobilize brave soldiers of Yandras! To Battle!" He and all the soldiers let our one last chorus cheer as they all had boarded their respective VTOL transport, quickly departing from the Land Carrier, and flew towards the combat zone, the Sand Sharks following from below. The Battle of the Hulk has begun.