"Babe, don't you dare let them take off without me!" Anya warns Sigint sternly over their private communication channel. The roar of gunshots, spaceship engines and frantic shouts echoing all around.

Anya had exited the car earlier than the others. Diving out during the commotion, not wanting to be part of the large attention drawing target. Since then she had been silently and swiftly making her way around through the smoke stalking, disabling and disarming opponents who posed a threat to her new team. As always it never went quite as smoothly as planed.

As the boarding ramp began to lift Anya emerged from the smoke. First it was her precious suitcase that was flung into the ship and sent skidding across the floor. Next Anya had to jump just to grab hold of the raising ramp. Quickly scrambling she pulled her torso up and over allowing the rest of her body to just roll in.
She was a bit more beat up and bruised than before but otherwise alright and still smiling.
She hadn't come empty handed either. On her journey to the ship she had picked up something along the way. Strapped to her back weighing her down was the awkward hulking overhanging piece of scrap metal more formally known as Melvin. With a loud 'CLANK' it hit the floor as Anya happily relieved it from herself and stood up recoiling her rope.

As the ship quickly came close to breaking atmo, a growing sense of safety could be felt, directly correlated to the ships distance from Frixion Prime. While unsure where they were now going, it seemed everyone was just happy to no longer be there.

Anya let out a sigh of relief, while the situation was still a bit tense due to being surrounded by strangers, at least they were safe from the main threat. She could finally let go of the tension that was the fear of getting shot. She picked up Melvin and walked towards the cause of all this trouble.

SIGINT...

Sigint would probably have felt the ping of an unusual radio wave, the subtle confirmation frequency acting as an echo-location device, breaching and mapping the ship from somewhere far away. For her it wasn't hard to follow, to trace the source back down to the ground. A place nowhere near the commotion of earlier.

A beacon of advanced active technology suddenly glowed like the moon on a dark starless night. Thermal imaging, X-Ray's, Density sensors, projection algorithms, visual recoding, temperature and atmospheric condition calculators. And that was just the external information going in. It fed commands to a series of precise motors controlling the movement and trajectory of something quite large, heavy and long.

click

The signals went dark. It went into an impenetrable lockdown. What ever it was doing, it was done. Before Sigint could even begin to decipher or acknowledge what was going on, before she could blink... it was too late.
It had fired.

In that very same second, 100's of miles away a bullet appeared right before the young girls eyes. Having hurtled that great distance it left a clear tunnelled hollow in its wake. A perfect continues empty line traced it trajectory. Through a vast empty space, the thick hull of the ship, an internal wall, a metal storage locker, Melvin, a layer of bullet proof armour, Anya's chest...

Anya stood before Sigint, Melvin hanging over her shoulder. The excited smile hadn't even left her lips yet, as if frozen in time. The silver sheen of a bullet that just flew hundreds of miles peered between the interwoven fabric of Anya's bullet proof clothing right before Sigint's face.

Then time recommenced and Anya and all her weight was flung onto little Sigint. Blood spluttered from her mouth and wound as her eyes grew wide in fear and shock. She collapsed to her side, moving off the young girl.
_'Beep'
A soft flash of red light could barely be noticed between the stretched fabric that held back the deadly bullet. Anya clawed at her chest and tried to look at her back, her breaths each shallower than the last, filling more and more with a spluttering wet fluid each time. Her movement became erratic and she flung her head around madly searching for answers.

_'Beep'

Her eyes found Sigint's. Tears had began to fall. 'Sorry' is all she could mouth with trembling lips. Anya's feet scrambled against the floor as she pushed herself away and against a nearby wall. With a shaky hand she reached into a secret pocket under her clothing.

_'BEEP!'

'shhhk, POP!'
Anya jerked violently and then slumped to the floor lifeless. Her wide open eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. There was now a concave in her chest where her armour depressed into a fist sized hollow. An empty space created by the popping bullet. It wasn't an explosion but a vaporisation. There was no natural means of coming back from that.



In her hand she unknowingly had the answer. A data drive that was impossible for most to access. It was why she had sought out Sigint, hoping she could uncover the answers. On this prized piece of stolen information was the directions and details to an ancient location and power. Immortality

---

_{OOC:New quest punks. Go bring Anya back to life!
Seriously, I like that character...}

---

Colin worked his way to the cockpit and found the freighter still all blinking lights and purring controls. He slapped his SHIPBUDDI into the dock on the console. As he waited for it and the ship to sync, he prepped the thrusters for takeoff. This ship wasn't much unlike the personnel frigates he has worked on while in the refugee camp on Wiklow. Colin thought he may need to get into the wiring of the console to disable any restraints the previous owners may have left in place. For that, he needed tools, tools like the rag tag collection he would have to leave under the overpass. Colin was sure there was some hidden away on this ship, " Hound. Fetch tools.", he called out as Hound bounded back through the ship to find any kit that smelled of galvanized metal and axle grease.

Once the SHIPBUDDI had synced and flight aid icons appeared on screen, Colin was ready to take off. He grabbed the ship's intercom, " Alright lads and lasses, if your not in the ship now then give these buggers our farewells." There wasn't time for Colin to do a headcount, the heat was on and they needed to get out of here before one of the warring sides outside decided they wanted the freighter. He closed his eyes and pulled the lever to raise the rear hold doors. "Hold on to your butts." Colin yelled into the intercom as he flicked of the idle mode and pulled the freighter back out of the hole the ship had rended through the building. Sheet metal screamed as it scratched along the hull, but Colin wasn't worried about the paint job. A quick shift in direction and Colin pulled the ship forward and up, climbing away from the chaos below. He would get them past the atmosphere before they decided on their next destination.

Colin looked into the ships monitors, showing the different compartments of the ship to see who had made it aboard and where Hound was with the tools. He was glad to see that SIGINT, Giggles and the girl who had blown the bridge control had made it aboard. That's when a pin prick of light appeared behind her. Then she shuddered, blood bubbled up past her lips, she hit the deck. "Saints Perserve Us! Fuck fuck fuck!" he thought they were in the clear, he thought they were safe. He pushed the ship harder in case that was the first shot. He slammed open the intercom " Somebody get some sealant on that hole before we lose cabin pressure! Fuck, what happened back there!"

"You idiot!! They followed you here!!"

"I...no— I— I was sure that—"

The earth above them rumbled with the sound of marching thunder, rolling along the ground like a wave of hatred and warped desire. The bunker's doors didn't hold for even a moment. The girl's sentence was interrupted by a blast of heat and light, as the moonlight made its way into the underground.

She screamed. The younger girl grabbed her arm, and began to run.

...What was she saying, back then?

█̸̸̛͜͝▄̛̕͟▄̧̡̕͟█̨͟͞▄̴͟█̡̕͟͢▄̢́■̡̡̕▄̸̀͞ ears were ringing from the explosion. The world seemed to roll around like clothes in a dryer—

"As long as we stick together..."

Was that it...?

No, that couldn't have been it. That was from a different time.

But I think...that girl remembered those words, in that moment. In the moment when her hearing was lost, in the perfect, silent clarity of deafness, she could sound out her memories in her mind.

It was dark. █̨҉▄̷̨̀▄̵̢█̧̢̀͘͢▄̴̢̧̛͝█̸̸͝▄̢́͟͟ couldn't see at all. Couldn't hear at all. Could only feel that hand, gripping her tightly, dragging her along.

But in the end, she lost even that.

All she had left was the feeling of the cold, hard ground, an̴d t̷he b͢u̴l̀l̵et͢ t҉h͝͏͝a̡̢̧t ͢h͢a͏́d ̢͠͏ri͠pṕ͝ed̶̛͢ t̵̢h̶͜͟͜͟r̷̡͢͞ó̴̕͡͞u̡҉̀ģ̶h͠ ̨̀͘͠ḩ̸̛̀͘e̵̢̕r̶̡͟͠ ͠͝c̶̡̢͘͡h̶͢͟͠e͜s̴̴̵̀̕t̢̧

---

A primal, shrill scream overcame even the sounds of the surrounding gunfire, as a blade was driven mercilessly into the digital screen.

The screen that bore her face.

On the surface of the planet, a little girl no older than eight or nine was breathing heavily, standing over the remains of what was once a billboard, having fallen from its perch amidst the chaos and weaponry. The top of her black hoodie was pulled back, revealing jagged, jet-black hair that looked like it had been haphazardly cut with a sharp knife. Her eyes were a deep red, pupils dilated from adrenaline, waxing and waning like the light of a passing comet.

The glass shards at her feet flickered as the image 'died'. At least, in her mind, it had 'died'. She had 'killed' it, after all.

From the moment she saw her face, the only option left was to 'kill'. And in that intersection, surrounded with her face on every screen, replacing every hologram, she had killed, and killed, and killed, and killəd, and killed and killed and killəd and killəd killed killəd killed killəd killəd killəd...

Until every visage of that smug grin had been wiped from the face of the planet.

Until every screen, every projector along those streets had been destroyed.

With the hiss of escaping gas, a slot on the hilt of her knife opened up, spewing forth a jet of evaporated nitrogen, along with a glowing heat sink. It clattered against the wall, raising smoke from the dry grass like the ashes of a cigarette, as the little girl slowly sheathed the knife against her back, catching her breath.


An automated, robotic voice came from the distant bridge, where the fighting was. But, none of that concerned her. Instead, light-headed from the physical exertion, she looked up at the sky, towards a small, red 'star' that was rising away from her.



That 'star'...

The ark that bore her into the sky.

"...You said that...we'd stick together..." The little girl's voice emerged languid and hoarse. She held back her need to cough, keeping her body perfectly still. Even as the ark sailed far away from her sight, even as the muddy rapids rushed along behind her, her vision remained focused on that single point. "But...you abandoned me...back then..."

Eventually, her throat gave out. The girl held her stomach as the fit reverberated through her lungs, coughing up blood and sputum in equal measures. For how long, she didn't know. It splashed against the ground, like deep, dark raindrops. It stained her hoodie, it stained her shoes, showing dimly even against the black surfaces.

Her body was covered in her own blood, just like back then, just like at that faraway time, in that faraway place, in the faraway dream that she saw every time she slept.

"And you've...abandoned me...now, too...huh...?"

Hanging trails of blood, like reddish-brown icicles, clung to her lips. Wiping her mouth weakly, she walked through the puddle of her own mucus, listlessly shambling forward.

"It's fine, though. Even if you leave me behind, again and again, I'll find you."

"Just like I did, back then..."


Just like back then.

Someone had died in front of her, just like back then.

Shot through the chest, from behind, just like back then.

Just like her.

Blood that wasn't hers coated her side and shoulder. One of the lenses of her glasses was coated over with red death, dyeing half of her vision and blurring the other. The girl's fingers twitched slightly, her body locked up as though she had met the eyes of a basilisk.

Someone was...yelling. Scrambling, running.

—ears ringing, the world seemed to roll around like clothes in a dryer.

But it was her body that moved, while the world stood painfully still. The moment she had tried to take a step back, the girl's leg had given out, and she'd fallen backwards, her head rattling against a raised console.

Even as her glasses tilted over her head, and blood oozed down her arm, she didn't notice.

Her eyes were focused on a faraway place, a faraway time. A dream that she had every time she slept.

_"...h..."

Her voice almost didn't make it out of her throat. The girl's eyes were wide, her jaw hanging open like the face of a broken doll.

_"...how..."

The girl's head shook slowly. The sight in front of her couldn't be real. It couldn't be. It was a dream, like it always was. The same dream she always had. She had seen this death over and over and over, in her mind.

So, it couldn't be real. Just like the darkness around her wasn't real, and the bunker wasn't real, and the people with guns weren't real, and the smell of wet earth at her nose wasn't real, and the creaking of rotting wood beneath her feet wasn't real, and the weight on her arm wasn't real, and the gently fading heat in her right hand wasn't real.

She'd wake up soon, any second now, at the same point in the dream, at the same time. At the moment she looked down and saw, just barely in the deep darkness, that blood-splattered hair, she'd wake up like she always did.

But she stared at the blood-splattered hair, on the brightly-lit ground, atop the metallic tiles, and the dream continued.

_{"...how many...times..."}

The girl's hands slowly raised to the sides of her head, one clean, and one covered in the blood of th͡at͢ pe͘r̶son͠ w̴h̵o ͏ha̢d̴ l͝oók̴e͢d҉ ̛f͠or ͜h̨e͢r͝ ̡a͡n͟d tri̴e̸d ͢to͞ ̕s͢av̴e͢ ͘ḩer̕, only for her to make it out alone, unable to do so much as carry the corpse away from that place. Her own life too heavy, the limit of what she could bear on her shoulders. Warm crimson stained her hair and ran down her neck as her hands pressed tightly over her ears, and her head sank into her knees.


<sub>"...how many..."


"...times..."


"...h...how..."</sub>

---

The inmate watched as the Ray got onto his feet. Desperately, he grabbed his phone and scampered out of the room. The soldier ran through hallways and stairs as he felt the urge to get further and further away from the inmate. He ran and ran until he was facing a pair of doors blocking a visibly larger room.

A dead end.

Just then, he would hear footsteps coming from behind. He turned his head, only to come face-to-face with the inmate he had met not long ago. He hummed a tune to himself while walking towards the soldier, or rather the room that he mad managed to secure. Without hesitation, he whipped out a genuine handgun. No more electric shocks and handy tricks. Surprisingly, the inmate lifted his hands in surrender.

"On second thought, just get me out of here. I need fresh air."
"Fresh air?"
"Indeed. Now if you would just let me..."

The boy pushed the soldier aside and headed towards the doors that secured the room. He stopped walking when he was about a meter away from the door. Quietly, he took a few labored breaths before kicking the doors. This resulted in a loud THUD, followed by the opening of the doors. The doors opened to reveal a collection of armaments, clothes, medical equipment, and so much more.

"...gear up."

---

A seemingly abandoned building sat beside a deserted street. It would have been a rather quiet night if not for the gunfire that echoed from a distance. Two figures made their way nonchalantly through the street.

"So we're looking for Diana Vultz, captain of the Frigate Adriane. Am I right?"
"Yep. I haven't received anything from her since they sent me on this godforsaken mission. I'd blame the higher-ups, but I wouldn't blame her. She's a great captain, y'know?"
"Metallic exoskeleton, synthetic third eye, am I getting this right?"
"You sure are."

Ray pulled out his phone and pressed some buttons on it. An antenna poked out of the device.

"All right, I've tracked Cap's signature. Luckily, she happens to be on this planet, and she's got company. In fact, she's right over there."

The soldier pointed the antenna towards the direction that the sound of gunfire came from. Together, the two people quickly ran towards the scene of battle. They were confronted by a rather jarring scene. Mercenaries opened fire on distant airships, which retaliated with loads and loads of gratuitous gunfire. A large ship flew entered the scene, flying right into another building. The impact produced a sound more deafening then the thuds we had been treated to before.

"We'll be needing a ship."
"Sure thing."

The two men ran hastily towards the building that the ship had crashed into. Explosions racked the ground, and the sound of gunfire created what would be identified as a crudely-produced dubstep song. The former inmate was about to jump into the warehouse when he suddenly felt a stray bullet graze his arm lightly. He turned around to find his companion on the ground, releasing shot after shot at a group of mercenaries. His battle armor was soaked in blood, and he was gasping desperately for breath.

"Just go! Your life is what's more important right now!"

The other man knew better.

He took the cylindrical tube off his body and opened it. Out came a sleek sword, and the man grabbed it. His eyes began to glow once again. The sword began to glow the same way his eyes did, and he swung it at the group of mercenaries. During the stroke, the entire sword began to radiate itself, and it appeared to extend. With the "extended" sword, the man cleaved through the mercs with a single stroke. The mercenaries' bodies were violently torn apart. The sword lost its glow, and the energy the man had used to extend the sword disappeared. The man then ducked down and said something to his former companion:

"I'll let you take a secret to the other world."
"W-whaat?"
"My real name wasn't Rudolph all along."
"uuuuuhhhhh yeeahh it was kinda obviouss..."
"Anyways, I'm off. I'll make sure that Diane will know of your loyalty."

The young man tapped his dying companion on the shoulder and headed off. He wasn't that cold, but Ray was going to die no matter what he did. Eventually, he proceeded to jump into the warehouse. Ray's device had pointed out that Diane had to be somewhere within this area. Besides, the young man would love to get on a ship.

He had a goal all along. And he would only be able to fulfill it now.

The young man quickly put the sword in his makeshift scabbard. He had a metal lady to find and a spaceship to board.

@JaceBeleren

---

sorry for the half-assed plotline :P

Diana was taking over behind part of an assembly line, since enough smoke had cleared for her to be shot at, when she got the call. From Ray. Nothing specific, but he'd said enough to tell her that something had gone wrong (she'd cut off the call the moment the inmate had said "Pizza Hut"). Damn, that had been important. The subject could have been useful, an asset, but now he was worse than that, worse even than nothing. He was a threat, but then he had always been unpredictable. With luck, he wouldn't hold a grudge.

Diana opened fire again, trying to cover Anya as she ran for the ship. A bullet deflected off her cheek, and the impact knocked her face to the side, so she was looking at the door. It was then that she saw the inmate entering the building, with Ray's body behind him. Her third eye zoomed in on it to show a gunshot wound, not a sword wound, and several dead mercenaries viscously cut in two by the inmate. This was good. Though the inmate was, as mentioned, unpredictable, this was a good sign. Being a little too occupied to make a call, Diana once again used her third eye, this time to send an image of the ship to Ray's phone, hoping that the inmate would get the message. She then got herself onto the ramp of the ship and remained there, helping anyone else who got on after her.

---

Diana was just down the hallway from Anya when she was killed. She had been facing away, so she hadn't seen what happened, but having spent years on a military ship, she knew what to do even as Colin was saying it. Fortunately, ships that tend to be shot at also tend to prepare for being shot at, so it was only a matter of grabbing the canister (similar to a fire extinguisher, but coloured bright yellow instead of red so the difference was clear) and filling the breach.

Then, Diana turned to SIGINT. The girl was a wreck. Diana had seen people die before, like Ray, only a few minutes ago. It never got easier, but this was different. The shot had been aimed at SIGINT, not Anya. One person dead in the place of another. A feeling of guilt, this was what was different, but again it was only the beginning of the story. There was a familiarity in SIGINT's eyes. This was not the first time someone had died to save her. This was something Diana couldn't empathise with, and though she wanted to comfort the girl, she had no idea how. It was then that she saw the data drive. She picked it up.

"This is difficult. You've just watched a person who's already saved your life die to do it again. I wish I could help, but no one else will be able to carry this burden. It's yours. Don't let it break you, use it to become a stronger person." Diana offered SIGINT the data drive. "Anya wanted you to have this. What for, I don't know, but you're the most qualified person alive to find out. Whatever it leads to, follow that path in Anya's memory."

With nothing left to say, Diana exited the room, leaving SIGINT to her thoughts.

The bespectacled girl's head slowly turned upwards at the metal woman, her eyes devoid of recognition. Her mouth moved slowly, but there was no sound. At the very least, she wasn't screaming — even if only because she was beyond that point.

She was reliving another event, from another time. Another death, from another place.


<sup>...Was that right? Was she really dead?

That girl...can't be dead. Because...</sup>

<sub>...even now...she's still dreaming.

The same dream, every time she sleeps.</sub>


Blinking vacantly, SIGINT's blood-stained, trembling hand reached up, with so much strain that it seemed like she was trying to lift a dumbbell simply by raising her own shoulder. The data drive dropped into her hand, its outside painted crimson. With all of her energy expended, the arm dropped down to the floor again, her gaze lowered to focus on it against her reddened hand and the metallic floor.

Her movements were more robotic than even Diana's own. Like a machine that had shut down, her blank gaze remained downward, with only the trembling of her fingers to indicate that she hadn't stopped breathing. With effort that could have pulled the moon down from the sky, her fingers slowly, very slowly, closed over the drive, gripping it weakly.

With a thunk, Marco had swung from his grappling hook and landed in the ship. He had just gotten in when a hole appeared in Anya's chest. Just like that, one of his companions was dead. It could have just as easily been him. He stared, unable to move, his mind desparately scraping for something to do. What was he supposed to do? He'd been in simulations, but this was the real thing. He could smell blood, and some of it had flecked his face.

What was he supposed to do?

What would his father do?

The smell of gunpowder filled the room. Marco filled a shell with powder, while behind him, his father worked on a gun. He was six, his father was 29.

"Dad, what was being a soldier like?" Marco asked.

"Shitty." The older man. Cecillo Valentine was blonde, like his son, with shaggy blonde hair and a permanent stubble gracing his face. "People shoot at you, and the pay stinks."

"Why did you become one?" Marco asked.

"Being a soldier isn't just about fighting." Cecillo said, screwing a scope onto a rifle. "It's about...It's about being someone who others can look to in times of crisis. Someone able to keep calm when other people can't."

Collin's voice blared over the intercom. Marco realized he'd been leaning against the wall for support. He pulled himself away, taking a deep breath. Soon, he'd acquired a can of space-age sealant from inside the ship, and began to patch the hole.

"We should probably head farther in." Marco said. He didn't say so we don't end up like her, but it hung in the air. He didn't think it was good for her to be near the corpse for so long either, but if she wanted to, he supposed it was her decision. "I'm going to find a kitchen." Soon, he'd gone into the ship, and the sound of a whistling teapot could be heard.

In the dining room, Marco set down a tray on the table. It had several teacups, a sugar bowl, and a pot of Earl Grey.