Maxxorlord — Roleplayer Guild

The Relentless pulled up beside the gantry just as Grak and company exited a hallway and entered the light of the outside world. The doors to the Relentless’ cargo bay opened, revealing the twenty four mechanized battle suits that had survived the battle in the Projects and returned to the extraction point, just as instructed. Grak’s gauntlet informed him that Hoplite fourteen had indeed held its position as he had commanded it to do. A small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. Grak and his brothers walked out onto the gantry, and Grak looked up at the sun. With a sigh, he looked back down and took the last few steps necessary and entered the cargo bay of the Relentless, his brothers in toe.

“Kira, what’s the status on Jack Thegn?” Grak asked, his eyes glued to the holographic display being cast from the device on his arm.”One moment, sir.” The female voice of his AI responded immediately.”There is a high probability he escaped capture.” Kira informed her master after a few agonizing seconds of waiting.”I also have footage available from Hoplite Fourteen saved on my harddrive. What would you like me to do with it?” The AI asked.”Post it on the Extranet. Let the world know that Grak Kla’chyu Ruo was the one who saved Jack Thegn’s life.” The Chirix announced.”Yes, sir.”

Grak moved between the Hoplites in the cargo bay towards the cockpit. The door to the cockpit opened as Grak stepped close to it, and closed when he was on the inside. Raz was already in the pilot’s seat when Grak came in.

“Let’s head back to the shop and get to work. Maybe some paranoid Projects manager’ll be looking for some extra mechanized muscle.” Grak slid into the co-pilots seat, hooking up his gauntlet into the Relentless and using its systems to boost his connection to the Extranet.”You’ve got it, boss.” Raz responded, pushing forward on the controls and changing directions.

A new holographic display popped up in front of Grak. It was a live feed from OLNN Primetime. Grak sat back in the co-pilots seat, getting comfortable for his newest dose of human propaganda.

***

An hour or so later, Grak finds himself being tapped on his shoulder. He looks up to see the familiar site of his home town. Small piles of garbage littered the dirt streets, shanties stacked on top of shanties stacked on top of shanties towered into the sky. Thousands of people crowded the tiny town. The Relentless took a sharp left turn, and came to rest on a rust-covered landing pad that passed for the local spaceport. The cockpit door opened up as the ship landed. Grak and Raz unbuckled and moved into the back of the ship, waiting for the bay doors to open. When they did, the ontourage exited the Relentless and moved down the ramp and out into the town.

Grak and his fellow Tindrels pushed their way to the front and led the Hoplites towards Grak’s shop, the only thing in that God forsaken place that didn’t look like it was about to fall apart. After a few minutes of traversing the crowds, Grak arrived at his shop’s entrance and unlocked the door. Raz led the Hoplites around back as the others went inside and began preparing for customers. Grak, though, passed through the main room and the garage, climbed the stairs, and entered his tinker’s workshop. He took his gauntlet off and set it down, before maneuvering through boxes of supplies and half finished prototypes that would never see the light of day. Grak came to rest in his chair, sitting in front of his desk, where he turned on his computer. That was what Grak liked about this place. It was his, and his alone.

Ruo began to work on designing a new version of the XI Nerve Gas Grenade Launcher, one that he was hoping to be able to mount on the Hoplites. There was work to be done, though.

Always work to be done in Babylon.

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