Begining of the end

[Kane]

Dab walked out and suddenly found himself drawn short as every single weapon from the 12-man squad in the foyer was suddenly pointed at him. A wing of Strike Craft were hovering outside the window, their chaingun's visable from under their noses and rocket pods under their stubby wings. Krieg's voice came from the room in the back.
"Once again you let over-confidence become your downfall. If I wanted, you would never have made it out of this room alive, much less off this floor." He spared a withering glance at the guard who had spoken.
"However, we do not need a war right now, so you are free to go. But never forget that in RHINLAND, you are at RHINLAND's mercy."
He waved his hand, and the guards went back to standing at attention, faces hidden behind the respirators on their faces. "Now go. I have better things to do then waste time with someone who thinks themselfs to be a god." With that, the doors slid closed and Dab was left alone with 12 guards, his two bodyguards, and the Commisar who stood at the elevator, motioning him to follow once more.

In space, he saw four wings of Wraths and a wing of bombers outside, in addition to the normal ammount of traffic. As the shuttle departed, two bombers backed up and grappled thier tractor beams on the third.
Zerstoren's voice drifted over the comm. "Stop it, vill ya? Der Admiral said not to attack zem. So, I don't attack." Even through space and the armor of both ships, Dab could feel the hateful look that was intended in his direction.
"Despite the fact zat I think zey should all die..."
The two bombers started pulling him back with the tractor beams.
"All right, all right! I von't! Du can let go now!"
"We'll let go... AFTER the Ableben leaves."
Zerstoren fumed. "Don't even get trusted by my own wingmates... Ver is die love?"
"Oh, I got plenty! Your just a crazy person who should never have been given that bomber."
Zerstoren fumed some more.

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This is the real true story of rock and roll; it was not about anything more then, how to live your life, as a gangster, in sartorial splendor, and turning the world into a place where normality would never return again...- Malcolm McLaren