Madness in a Cadenza

[Kaze]

Navigating the secondary hallways was a breeze for Kaze. Passers-by didn't even looked twice at her, such was her confidence like she belonged in there. Some security checkpoints however were in place, but as per the norm, if the paperwork checks out, one is free to proceed. And so, eight levels afterwards and switching from several motives on how she was heading forward, from delivering some report to presenting herself to some person of importance, her feet finally brought her to the first destination of importance. The officers mess hall. In there, ten minutes later of chatting up the lower ranks, responsible for feeding and cleaning after the oh so very important monsieur's and mademoiselles of the upper echelons of the Gallic Royal Navy, her mind first learned of her mark. Commandant Geneviève Lavoie, the undersecretary of the General. Responsible to bring him the latest reports, fill his cup and clean his desk. Sitting while sipping a coffee, that was quite good in fact, Kaze's eyes ran through the several faces in the lounge. None of them of Commander rank. Waiting, she mused about the irony of the name of her target. It brought quite a dark memory from her past, when she was a Reaver.

"Bonjour, Commandant Lavoie. The usual?" The main mess sergeant said near Kaze. Slowly turning her head, like she was waiting for someone, Kaze looked only once in a nonchalantly way and turned her eyes back to the report she stole in the previous level. Not even two minutes later, the woman, red-colored hair with an oval face, stood nearby Kaze with her tray in hand, looking for a free table. Kaze looked up and amicably waved towards the empty seat in her table. The commander nodded and sat, putting down a small data-pad in her tray. "Bounjour, Commandant." She gracefully said while slightly bowing her head in thanks. Kaze nodded as well, and closed her report. "Bonjour, Commandant. Je suis Commandant Michelle Langlais. You?" Kaze sipped her coffee, looking amicably at the woman. "Commandant Geneviève Lavoie. Assistant of Général Proulx. You are a newcomer, oui?" She asked, drinking some of her juice. "Oui, arrived today from Ile-de-France." The woman in front of Kaze nodded, in recognition and bit some of her brioche. "Ouais, I saw the transfer order this morning. Well, let me welcome you to the front lines, Commandant. You will find the locals... quite..." She was thinking of a polite word to put down the obvious. Kaze cut her in and said with a small smile. "Étrange?" The woman in front of her smiled and nodded."Oui, étrange. You should tak-" Her sentence was cut by Kaze looking behind her and signaling with her head someone behind was calling Commandant Lavoie. As Lavoie turned her head back to see who was calling her, Kaze nimbly threw a small pill into her juice cup, with no one the wiser around. Lavoie turned her head back, with her face questioning Kaze who was it, and Kaze merely shrugged, feigning indifference. "Apologies. That capitaine waved towards us, and since I do not know anyone here..." She pointed at Lavoie. "I thought it might have been to you." The Commandant nodded with a smirk, and drank some more of her juice, oblivious to what was now added to it. Kaze finished up her coffee and stood up, grabbing her report. "It was a pleasure, Commandant. I hope to see you in the future." Lavoie nodded, and resumed her breakfast.

Ten minutes later, Kaze was waiting in the women bathrooms in that level, counting down the time, and adjusting her uniform. The door opened with speed, and Lavoie, clearly indisposed tumbled into the bathroom hall, with several files in hand, all dropping to the floor. Kaze looked, and with an air of concern she moved quickly to support the commander. "Oh I got to get to the-" Lavoie tried to contain the contents of her stomach inside. A small wind broke from her body as well. Kaze, with disgust, dragged the woman to the nearest toilet and helped her assume the position that one too many knew when the alcohol was too much. The woman barfed with all her might and hugged the toilet with force. The pill was something fierce to the gentle bowel movements of the human body, and Kaze knew it very well. This woman would be completely indisposed for the next hour. More than enough time for what Kaze needed. Picking up the files and her level card, she gently divided them in two piles and placed one of the piles at the top of the toilet, in front of Lavoie's eyes. "Commandant Lavoie.. I.. must get you help. And I also have a debri-" Lavoie waved with her hands, signaling her to go. Kaze nodded and exited the bathroom, with the confidential files and Lavoie's card, ones marked to the General. With confidence, she started her walk to the last level, where the General's office was.

Waving the classified files in front of the guards in the last checkpoint after using the level card, they let her pass without any hassle. Just another glorified courier doing its job. At the door of the general's office, the last hurdle of her journey appeared. Two guards, massive ones at that, stood in attention. She stood in front of them and saluted. "Bonjour. Commandant Lavoie requested me to deliver this to Général Proulx." She handed the files to the guards. One of them flickered his eyes at the covers, returned them to Kaze and opened the doors. The office was empty, of course. The general started his day only in thirty minutes, way after the men and women serving under him. Kaze quickly took note of the lavish style of the office and how spacious it was. Many meetings undoubtedly took place here, making it a prime location for her to deliver the precious cargo she was carrying. The guard accompanied Kaze into the office but stood in the middle of it, allowing Kaze to go further in, to place the files on top of the very old and regal like desk, carved in mahogany and detailed in gold. As she placed the files, one of them fell to the floor at her feet. She quickly knelt and placed the small device in a hidden nook, under the desk. Grabbing the said file, she placed it on top of the others and turned to the guard, forcing her cheeks to go red, to give out a sign of embarrassment. The guard was indifferent and waited for Kaze to leave the office and closed the door behind him. With a nod to both, she started her path, towards the exit.

With a small grin, Kaze enjoyed this. It took her back, to the game of shadows that she played when she was a child. Every step now took her close to the end. To the prize she secretly desired when she was in this kind of operation. To that last moment before exiting the whole scheme and looking back and knowing she had outdone and outplayed them all. With her mind going back to the small modification she had done to the device, Kaze knew she truly reached all the persons that had to be deceived.

Especially Hall.

.

---

[08:11 PM] Dusty Lens said: Well in that case. NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKE & #SAVAGE & #STORIES

[Thunderer]

The slow clicks of a triple lock echoed through an empty hallway of metal. It was the door of Hall's personal quarters aboard the Norfolk, and he was hesitant about locking it because crossing the doorway in the first place was a turning point.

The chamber was completely dark, which was because he had ordered an exercise of function with the main powerplant disabled, as well as the ship's captain. In those conditions the ship initiated radio silence and wasn't be able to intercept signals neither from the outside, nor from the inside. By stepping into the darkness, he chose his side, and the lock sealed the contract.

The beam of his flashlight fell on a picture of Queen Carina hanging on the wall. He inverted it carefully towards the wall, as if he thought she could see him, and started up his communication device. Being assured that Captain Dagon had done her job by the camera in her bionic eye, he clicked "send".

Message

Message Class: Textual
Encryption: Oolong
To: GRN HC
From: Admiral Sir George Richard Hall, BAF

---

Respected enemy,

If your intelligence service is good for anything, you know who I am and what my role in the Bretonian Armed Forces is. You might already know what I want, but in order to be sure, I am sending you this letter.

Bretonia is a sinking ship. We who know the truth are managing to hide it, but it is only a matter of time when the weight of the forces, which you have sent to unlawfully take what is not yours, sinks it into a disarray of discord, sin and blood, which so often deluges lands that are conquered. I know my men well enough to tell you that they will fight you until the very end. When the front collapses, we will fight you in the capital, and when New London falls, my forces in Cambridge, Poole and the Near Omegas will continue the struggle until the last underground bunker of Planet Sprague is silenced. This will cost you so dearly that you will not be open to any kind of mercy when it is over. It will cost me a Bretonia, and it will cost Bretonia everything.

I love Bretonia. I love her so passionately that I cannot hide from you my desire for her. She does not have to sink and you do not have to lose anything precious. Instead, we can save your prize together. I can tell you where and when to attack. I cannot order my men to attack other Bretonians, but I can, at the head of my fleets, deliberately arrive late for the decisive battle. That will ensure your easy victory, but what follows after is the main subject of this letter. Your King cannot rule Bretonia directly from New Paris, instead he will have to appoint a governor. If that governor is a Gaul, he will not be liked, so you will have to keep large garrisons on your conquered planets to enforce your authority, which is expensive. In that case, I will arouse my men, if the governor is another Bretonian declare him a traitor, take over the South and refuse to submit, and continue the war as I have described. I offer you to save your ships, ammunition and other resources, and your men. In return, I ask to be appointed, by your monarch, for the Governor of the Province of Bretonia, as whole as possible, and rule in his name. With me in command of the remaining forces in the South, there will be no one to arouse the South. With a Bretonian ruling over Bretonia, a hero of the war too, there will be no need for large garrisons. In fact, there would be no need for your garrisons at all, as you will grant Bretonia full internal autonomy, which will win over the common man's heart and make him see how pointless resistance was. Externally, of course, I will ensure that your campaigns are supported as well as they can be. Accepting this offer will, instead of costing you resources, provide fresh ones instead. It is implied that you keep this letter secret, as it possesses the power to discredit me, and thus cause you the mentioned expenses.

I am indeed in love with Bretonia, but power attracts me more. What happens after me is not my issue. When my rule ends, you will be able to do whatever you like with Bretonia, as everyone able to stop you will already have forgotten why the war was fought in the first place. But if I, a hero and a savior of my people, leave this world too early, then you might need garrisons after all. You know well who they would blame.

It is clear that this is a win-win-win offer. You win, Bretonia wins, and I win. Queen Carina and the Royal Family are somewhat left out of this, but they are a few people standing in the way of many. I still respect the Queen because she has honoured me with the title of a Knight, but if the King honours me with more, you can be assured that I will respect him as much as he pays.

Bretonia and I eagerly await your response, and wish you the worst war fortune in the meantime.

Sir George R. Hall
Admiral
Bretonian Armed Forces

---

Open for Replies

Not far from the destination of the message, a day later, Commander French was being taken through an alley in the Planet Leeds spaceport, to his death carriage. He was followed by a column of his brothers in arms, all in uniforms, marching orderly as if on a military parade, but the humiliation in their eyes and their unwashed, unshaven faces, and the presence of Gallic marines beside them, made it appear more like a military parody. It was, however, on the right path to tragedy.

At this moment, Commander French glimpsed, through the blur of fatigue and thirst, a familiar face at the end of the alley. He remembered passing by it in front of Hall's office. It was the person he was looking for, but finding her didn't make him happy. That was not only because he was in chains, but because she was in a Gallic uniform. By the time she was close enough to be recognized for sure, everything that had befell him because of her was already finished rewinding. In the quiet, half-deserted quarter, the sudden outburst of his almost crying voice, through his dry throat, resembled the activation of an amateur explosive device.

"YOU TRAITOROUS B****!"

[Kaze]

Kaze was walking, with a data-pad in hand, as many around her. Her destination was the spaceport, where a local contact was already waiting for her to drop her off at the resistance base. Everything was proceeding smoothly, even the entrance in the spaceport. Turning into one of the alleys, that would allow her to gain entry to the main deck hall, French's voice boomed like an alarm. He ran towards her and she deftly turned his world upside down. Seeing who he was, she cursed at him in her mind, preparing her cover story on the fly, as several armed marines approached her and the still curse throwing French, crying on how could she betray Bretonia.

The sergeant of the detachment leveled a blaster gun at her and asked for her identification. "Commandant, identification et ordres?" Delivering it to him, the sergeant was no fool. "Do you know ce cul?" Kaze looked at the sergeant and showed a face of disgust at the possibility of such. "Non. I do not mingle with inferiors. I am under orders to depart to the front here in Leeds." The sergeant nodded and told his men to keep them in position, until he ran the situation to his CO. Needless to say, Commandant Anglais orders did not checked out, and she was quickly clasped in chains. The sergeant barked his orders and two of the marines started to search her. A gun, a small pouch filled with electronics and a small batch of explosives alongside the data-pad only gave weight to the suspicions. French silently gulped noticing that he was to blame, for he finally noticed that Dagon after all was not working for the Gauls or an underhand scheme of Hall. "We will find the truth, madame. Our cells in Saint-Antoine make sure of it, ouais?" The sergeant smiled before pushing her into the column of prisoners. With a swift kick to the prone French, he shouted for him to get back in line.

As they resumed their march, Kaze sighed and gave thanks for the ever need of man to grope firmly a woman's more delicate spots, instead of focusing on the arms or legs. The polymer mimicking skin worked nicely for these kind of operations, but it was too fragile for a more active use of the bionics. However, she pulled with all her strength the middle finger of her bionic hand. Hiding her grin with her hair, showing off a beaten down person to the outsiders, Kaze started the countdown in her mind.

Thirty minutes later, a small armored shuttle departed the spaceport crossing the Leeds skyline towards it's destination, Saint-Antoine Prison, or the Cemetery as many Leeds residents called it. The maximum prison that had the fame that no one returned from it, filled with the utmost advanced security systems and without a doubt, hell on earth for the many prisoners it could contain.

French found himself being sit right near Kaze, as the engines came to life in the transport. She turned her face, and those eyes looked upon him with a superiority that French detested, yet admired. Who was she to look at him like this? French glared back and stood straight against the wall. Five of the gaul marines grappled their harnesses for security, and as the transport took it to the sky, they kept tabs on their charges. One of the marines passed by them and French whispered.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I thought you were a spy for the Gauls."

She looked at him again, and nodded with a sigh.

"Apologies accepted, French. Now.. What in the Taus are you even doing here?"

.

---

[08:11 PM] Dusty Lens said: Well in that case. NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKE & #SAVAGE & #STORIES

[Thunderer]

You are... not going to assassinate the Fleet Admiral, are you?
What are you on about, Commander?
Didn't you record every tiniest security detail of her quarters aboard the Suffolk?
Kaze raises an eyebrow and looks around if the guards aren't alerted.
Recorded? What...
Kaze's face was the testament of the realization of something she had not foreseen.
Do you know anyone else with such a camera that you have in your eye?
She growls in a whisper.
Hall.
French asks in a tone as conspicuously as his cluelessness. He has one?
Kaze opens her eyes in a warning gesture.
Are you daft, man?
I found the video on his office computer, above a file called "List of Assassins".
Kaze was about to open her mouth when she heard the footsteps of a guard coming down the ship. She kept quiet, and so did French, looking down. Eyeing his back, Kaze whispered to him.
Hall uses everyone. He sees me as a tool, Commander. When I am anything but.
I've noticed. I've come here to find you and... What in the Taus are you doing here?
Infiltrating the planetary HQ here and plant a listening device. On Hall's orders.
She pauses to think.
Again, terribly sorry for blowing your cover. But you have done it, haven't you?
Yes, I have.
She looks around. And even in the small shaking of the vessel, the guards are chatting with each other with only one traveling back and forth.
So, you came to find me. Here I am.
I thought that you and Hall worked for the Gauls. At least your mission was for Bretonia. And me... I'm betraying my realm. In a way. No one knows I'm here.
His face suddenly takes the form of an idea bulb, but a very cold one. His whisper suddenly explodes like a tree in autumn and in a hurricane. Turn away from me right now! Turn!
Dagon looks at the man and nods in a negative fashion.
Be quiet and be still. They will see us moving. What is your idea now, Commander?
French continues less conspicuously, but as nervously as before. He can see us! Turn away!
She glares and turns, hoping this idea panned out.
Don't you know that he can see everything you see with that eye? At this very moment?
Kaze sighs at the man and turns back to him. Her right eye closed.
There. Enough for you?
I heard no sound in that video. I suppose he can't hear us speak....
He tries to move a bit closer to Kaze so he can whisper.
I've come here to inform the resistance that you might assassinate O'Brien, so they can arrest you as a suspect before Hall meddles his fingers. But I got caught by the frogs instead.
They immediately look down and stop talking as they hear a guard coming closer. Taking a glance at his distancing back, French continues.
Look, I can't just trust you because you're not working for the frogs. But it doesn't make sense to lie now, on your terminal journey. You are Hall's right arm. It would benefit you if he became the Fleet Admiral. And I've heard that you used to be a Reaver. Is that true?
Kaze raises an eyebrow and looks around for the guards. Keeping track of the enviroment is the first step to control it.
Yes, it is true, Commander. And I beg to differ. I am not his right arm. For I am more viable to hit the man than to help him. What I do.. Is for Bretonia.
Why does a Reaver do anything for Bretonia?
Kaze keeps tabs on the walking by guard and lowers her head to look downtrodden. She then whispers.
It's home, Commander. My home.
Then why did you take contracts against us in the first place?
Her head turned to French with a glare.
I did not. I was never the owner of the Company, and I never hunted in Bretonia. I did it elsewhere. And most of my jobs weren't even about hunting people.
The ship shook slightly, and Kaze grinned. Time was almost out.
As if it even matters. Both of us are soon probably going to end up in some mine. Do you know why I am inquiring you at all?
Kaze nodded negatively. French grinned as well, although he was perfectly ignorant of what Kaze was waiting for. He continues, seemingly devoid of any fear of Kaze's command authority over him.
In case that we end up in the same mine, so I could point at you and laugh if you truly were going to kill O'Brien. But I suppose I'm not going to have that pleasure, nor any...
His grin melancholically melted away like an old woman's breasts. Kaze raised her head and smirked at French. Something was not normal on that woman, French thought. The patrolling guard stopped at their front and started to demand an explanation. French quickly lowered his head in compliance, but Kaze's voice rang.
We are not heading to a mine, Commander. Fear not. But hold on tight.
As she spoke those words, the vessel shook something fierce throwing the guards off their feet. Emergency lights and a infernal alarm noise filled the vessel. Kaze, taking advantage of the fact, used her bionics and ripped free from her chains in mere seconds. With a strong pull, she grabbed hold to the guard in front of her and relieved him of his side arm, which then used on the two guards that were at the end of the transport bay. Energy blasts came towards her, only to find the meat shield she had in her front.

[Kaze]

She knew that speed was of the essence, but the rotors in her biotics and a whisper in the back of her head claimed and yearned for release. Downing one of the marines at the end of the transport bay with a sure shot to his throat, she dropped the limp body of the guard she relieved of a sidearm. The two marines that were standing near the transport bay connection to the cockpit were already shouting and raising their weapons. Another four, that were sitting farther ahead were already unbuckling as fast as they could. "Modottekonai." The voice said, unshackling itself. And as she was running towards the now reloading marine, she breathed in and let it go. All the shackles, all the restraints, all the social protocols, all the unspoken rules of humanity and her very own reasoning. With that, the storm was released.

Stills of that event alongside with the screams issued by the gallic marines would be carried by Seeley French until the day of his death. The first one was decapitated, not with a swift motion, a clean separation of the body and head, but more in a more grotesque way. In an almost abnormal test of strength, Captain Dagon grabbed onto his mouth and shoulder and ripped it apart. The show halted the marines for a good couple of seconds as the now blood soaked Dagon turned at them, with a half-ripped head in her hand. And her eyes. By the sweet gods in heaven, her eyes showed no emotion. Her whole face showed no feelings as she claimed that life. She raised the head, still dropping copious amounts of blood, and threw it at the approaching, still somewhat stunned, marines. Hitting one, the man visibly soiled his mental trousers as he screamed. The captain grabbed the headless body, and using it as a shield, she discharged her sidearm at the direction of the guards that were now rising from their seats, killing them all as they were desperately trying to free themselves from the security belts, with their guns in hand. Seeley didn't wanted to believe what came to happen next.

Kaze threw the meat shield in the air, in front of her. And with a powerful kick, the body was lobbed with a furious strength at the two remaining marines. The crack of the internal organs and bones being ruptured and broken with that kick was loud enough to drown the blaring klaxons in the bay. Two of the female prisoners started to puke. But Seeley did not cared. All he saw was death. The most absolute form of death he ever witnessed. The speed. The precision. The uncompromising nature. The raw strength. As the body hit the marines, the bloodied Kaze was not far behind, already in the air. Her right foot, already aimed at the head of the left most guard. It removed his jaw, teeth flying everywhere alongside blood. The other marine, quick to rise, trailed his weapon at Kaze, only to the barrel of it to meet her right hand. A tense second occurred, as the dying raging garble of the jawless marine filled the air. And then, the inevitable shot arrived.

Sparks, a bright flash and smoke erupted, blinding everyone. And as the smoke dimmed, and the eyes adjusted to the normal light, her hand, now showing as tarnished metal, not skin, was still there, holding the barrel. The marine eyed the hand and dropped the weapon, turning his back to Kaze to start running to the cockpit entrance. He did not have the chance.

Her hand, still hot, shoved itself in his back, burning skin and boiling the blood as it grasped with strength. The already metallic smell of blood that permeated the air by now in that shaking bay was suddenly taken over by the smell of burnt flesh, coupled with the ungodly screams of that marine. Her hand finally grasped her objective and the voice of the man gasped. The metallic hand firmly closed itself around a section of his spine. Slowly, Kaze raised her other arm and placed her hand in the shoulder blades of the dying marine, and yanked.

In less than half of a second, Seeley learned the sound that a man makes when his mind is disconnected from the body. And he puked. When he raised his head from the middle of his legs, Seeley only saw Kaze dropping the section of the spine that she severed from the last marine, and traded it for the sidearm of the jawless dead body. Walking towards the cockpit section, she paused nearby the still strapped on dead marines. Her head turned to look at the dead men, and discharged two shots at one of the limping bodies. His weapon loudly hit the floor, as more blood pooled in the shaking floor. Not even wasting a second looking at the aftermath, she continued her walk to the cockpit entrance.

Seeley shouted from the distance. "You cannot open that! It's locked no doubt! And it's blaster proof!" She didn't even flinch, or turned. Her black, tarnished hand grabbed onto one of the corners of the door and her hand moved towards her, with her elbow supported by the door itself. And then again, that statement of the raw strength peeled open the top of the door, with the sound of shouts being released into the bay. Seeley could swear he saw her remove one of her eyes and throwing it in the cockpit. More screams filled the bay. Without notice, she raised the sidearm into the opening, and fired two times. The screams came no more and the ship started to visibly shake even more, gradually increasing. Grabbing the tip of the bent door once again, she continued her arm exercise to pull the door and as it stood half removed, she jumped into the cockpit.

The ship stabilized somewhat, and the klaxons were cut off. Seeley looked at the other prisioners, obviously still on the bad end of the adrenaline rush, and he heard her voice, obviously talking to someone on the comms. With a sharp turn and a downward thrust, French already knew what was happening. To escape most of the scanners, the ship would have to hug the terrain. The dead shattered bodies of the marines skidded through the bay, painting the floor red with blood and remains. Twenty minutes later, the sound of more engines surrounding the transport filled the bay. Kaze during all this time said nothing, and the last French saw of her was when she entered the cockpit. Fifteen minutes later, the shaking erupted once again, as the engines stressed to cope with the landing sequence.

As the ship finally touched solid ground, Kaze showed up again, sliding with ease through the opening of the cockpit security door. Walking peacefully, she eyed the surroundings and proceeded to unshackle the prisioners, six of them, leaving French to the last. He saw that black hand up close finally, metallic, as some bits of it glinted with the lights that were present, and deadly, as blood and flesh was still clinging to it. He didn't knew she had that level of biotics. The eye was a given, but the arm.. He wondered what else was cold metal in her. Her heart, no doubt, he thought. For she did not even flinch when she killed all those men. The bay door opened, and light poured into the transport bay, alongside several armed marines. Bretonian marines. One of them trailed his blaster rifle at Kaze.

"Get our people to debrief, sergeant." Her voice echoed through the bay and the leader of the marine detachment quickly nodded in response, and started to order his men to secure the prisoners. The blaster rifle aimed at her lowered, and the man followed his orders. With a yank, she ripped the last restraint securing French to the seat, and signaled him to follow. A man awaited her at the end of the ramp of the transport bay exit. There was a general bustle around, with men and women, running around, performing tasks or carrying necessary equipment. Small tents dotted the run down village, obviously a temporary base. He saluted Kaze, and Kaze saluted back, with that black bloodied hand. French quickly followed suit, even not knowing who the man was.

"Major General Williams. I am Arrowhead." She finished her salute. French finally saw who he was. The commander of the resistance forces. Williams finished his salute and extended his hand in greeting.
"Good show with that tracker, Arrowhead. Who is this fellow?" He nodded towards French. Kaze turned around and looked at French. "Commander Seeley French, Bretonian Armed Forces. He is with me, sir." Williams nodded at the man and pointed to a soldier. "That man will take you to your tent, Arrowhead. We expect to move within the hour. This show triggered their sensor grid and we are just waiting for the forward team to return. I will see you soon."

Walking towards the tent, Seeley tentatively spoke. "So.. Did you know that the resistance would hit that transport?" Kaze kept her pace, and replied. "As I activated the tracker, yes. I contacted Williams ahead and informed him of my mission specifics regarding leaving Leeds. The resistance was my backup plan, if my situation changed. I was taught to always consider the need of exfil in all operations, French." The tent entrance flapped with the wind and they entered. Kaze promptly walked to a nearby cot and started to remove the bloodied half-torn gallic uniform. French quickly turned his back, surprised by her ease in removing her clothing with a man present. He did managed to peek at her back. Scars covering it all, the gruesome sight from where the biotic arm connected to the body and a small tattoo below the neck, at the top of the shoulder blades. "We will go with the resistance for the next two days, French. I hope you brought your will to fight, because these men know no other reality, every day." She said, donning a camo jacket. Turning to look at the back of French, she raised an eyebrow. "When we reach Harrington, we will be able to get a pick up from one of the merchant navy freighters. And then.. We can find what is Hall up to."

.

---

[08:11 PM] Dusty Lens said: Well in that case. NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKE & #SAVAGE & #STORIES

[Thunderer]

The Geiger counter had been crackling monotonously for about an hour already, and by now they were used to it as to the ticking of a clock. They had taken off from Leeds some time ago in a hastily repaired Paladin with more welding marks than paint on its hull. They had been given a refreshment back in Harrington in the form of two very economical baths and two cans of beans that were a week past their expiration date. Their consequences were not the cause that was triggering the Geiger counter. It was the East Leeds Smog Cloud, where they were nearing the Manchester Jump Hole. Depending on weather the ship was welded well enough or not, they were going back home in one piece.

With the autopilot on, Kaze had been trying, for some time already, to establish contact with a certain signal with the transmission hub datacentre in her bionic arm, which seemed quite charred. Meanwhile, Seeley was trying to finally catch some good sleep after having succeeded in convincing himself that he was at last safe.

The cockpit was suddenly lit by a blue hologram. "Bingo." Kaze's whisper caught his attention. Although there was no image, the device was emitting sound. It was General Proulx, completely unaware that he was being recorded, and he was talking to someone who appeared to be his superior, in French. French had to listen very closely to understand him.

"...d news. We 'ave practicallie won zhe war.
...
Oui, I will tell you right away. An admiral of zheirs, 'is name is..." The rustle of an apparently small piece of paper can barely be heard. "Sir Jeorge Rishar' 'all.
...
Oui, Cambrige. 'e as offred to surrendre if we attaque when 'e says, and in exshange we should name 'im zhe gouverneur of zhe Province of Bretonnie. Are you intrested in..."

Kaze turned the device off and shook her head in the silence that let their unpleasantly surprised heartbeats be heard and lasted for a couple of moments. "This is madness!", Seeley shattered it. Kaze continued shaking her head with slow moves that appeared to be gathering black clouds of wrath.

"Your blood has gone bad.
As I knew it would."

[Kaze]

Entering the New London system, Dagon shut off the autopilot as they reached the Kensington Trade Lane hub. Turning the ship towards the Cambridge gate. "Where are we going? We got to warn O'Brian!" Seeley's voice rang through the cockpit, obviously still mad at the latest development. Kaze had been silent for the whole voyage since discovering Hall's supposed treachery. "Cambridge. I need to think, and to find more information." The lanes blurred as their speed increased, the ship shook and the hull plates strained against the sudden pressure. She turned the pilot chair around, and raised her charred biotic hand signalling Seeley to remain quiet. Her face was the utmost display of seriousness, her eyes displaying little to no emotion. Yet, Seeley felt that anger was below. Deep below. Layered in ice and steel. "If we allow ourselves to act blindly, and allow O'Brian the knowledge, she will be bound by the laws and rules that in this case, would protect Hall, since we have no tangible proof whatsoever. So no." Her jaw tensed. "He will play dirty, and we will loose any advantage we have. I know the man, for he cares for himself only, and would turn the attention to us with whatever lies he would weave. We would be burned as fools in eyes of our peers, and the true monster would be left to reave some more." The chair turned around to the piloting console, and for a moment, Seeley could swear that her face, cold and sculpted in marble, in that light.. felt familiar. Minutes passed and the gate to Cambridge appeared in front of the lonesome Paladin. Like a lost, broken soul waiting for the door to home to open.

During the flight to Planet Cambridge, the plan was decided, the wheels began its motion. As Seeley French left the Paladin at the Barton Spaceport, Kaze shouted to him, in the midst of engine roaring and windy conditions. "Once the wheels get traction, we cannot stop, French. We must go through this to the end." Seeley nodded at the distance and raised his hand in farewell, before disappearing into the tarmac and ships. Sitting once again in the overused pilot seat, Kaze breathed in and prepared herself for her part in this play. Priming the ship core, the energy diagram came alive and she opened the main engine security protocols, disconnecting several key locks that kept the power surges to the engine in check. Powering up the whole ship, the small Paladin left Cambridge's atmo and cruised to a position outside of the Norfolk's sensor grid.. And waited.

Two hours later, a very ashamed, and dirty, Seeley French stood in front of Hall being chastised by loosing yet another bomber. "I am truly sorry, Admiral." was all he could mutter during the barrage of verbiage thrown at him. Hall was not in a good mood, it seemed. Even before French appearance. His office was still the same, a testimony of the life of an Admiral with the taste for the finer things. Suddenly an explosion rocked the Norfolk, cutting Hall's tirade. Red klaxons went alive and the sound of running and shouting was heard in the corridors, and a trace of panic filled everyone's souls with the unknown. Hall quickly pulled a comm device out of its holder and asked what had happened. As the signal was slightly distorted, he plugged the other ear and turned towards a corner. "## ## ##ptain Dagon, Sir Hall! Her ship's engine #x##oded and half of the B-bay is burning, and our safe## #eams are still nowhere to be seen!" The panicking voice replied. Hall sighed, punching the wall, and ran off, ignoring the fact that Seeley was nowhere on sight. As he left, a small movement appeared from beneath the desk, with Seeley peeking from above it. Quickly, he lost no time to access the main console, using the password he managed to learn during his last meeting with Hall, and entered it when trying to get in the system. And there it was, the control panels to the various vital areas of the Norfolk, but what finally made French grin was the access controls to Hall's personal quarters and office. "That what she meant for distraction." Seeley thought, quickly typing and giving whatever permissions needed for Dagon and him, he closed the console and finally exited the office, disappearing in the mess of bodies running around the Norfolk corridors.

As Hall arrived to B-bay, he stood witness to a scenery of destruction and mayhem. And in the middle of it, three men trying to extinguish the fires of a beaten down Paladin. The engine was ripped off and destroyed by an explosion, meaning the landing sequence did not went as expected. The cockpit was still sealed however. Hall grabbed the side comm and punched in his main command code, to have access to the whole ship. "This is Admiral Sir Hall. Bring down the alert. I want all safety teams in B-Bay, post-haste." His voice boomed from the general PA comms, throughout the whole ship. Ten minutes later, the last fire was put out, and one of the tech crews was finishing in opening the cockpit hatch. With a pull from one of the robotic arms, the hatch gave out and was forcibly ripped out, shaking the Paladin. Not even five seconds later, Hall saw a pair of legs exiting the Paladin, and then, a raven black haired woman. The asian heritage became evident as she walked towards him, with three medics buzzing around her. Then he noticed why. A small metal pipe was protruding from under her left clavicle, while she was bleeding from her mouth and nose. Her walk was also slightly gimped, and her scorched biotic hand was clutching her ribs, obviously broken. As it were in landings, this was a rough one, without a doubt. "Captain Dagon. What were you thinking in exploding yourself inside my bay?" He asked, arrogantly. Kaze finished her walk and shooed off the medics. Straightening herself up, she saluted, obviously in pain, but her face was ever cold, still and steeled. Arrogant even, more so than he could produce, Hall thought. Attributing it to the blue blood that this woman carried, he kept looking at her like he was her better.

"Sir Hall. Mission accomplished. I am sorry for the mess. The engine blew up during the landing sequence." She said, finishing her salute, her voice filled with arrogance. Hall nodded, feigning complete indifference, and began to turn back to his office. Before taking the first step, her voice ringed once again, from his back. "However..." Her voice was eerie this time, cold enough to send a chill down Hall's spine. There was the devil. The voice of the monster he always wanted to keep in check. Hall slowly turned, trying to muster admirably all the bravado and arrogance he could to his face. "We must talk of the situation of Leeds. It has reached a new pinnacle of despair." Hall looked at her for a good couple of seconds in silence, while she looked back at him. Finally nodding in acquiescence, Hall replied. "First, you must treat your wounds. Nothing major, I hope. I would detest having you bleed all over my carpet." Kaze nodded in reply, with a fake smile. "Of course, Sir Hall. I will head to medical first. It might take a while though." She flipped a finger at the small steel pipe stuck near the left clavicle. Hall turned his back once again and waved his hand in the air. "No rush, then, Captain. Good day." With that, the medics assaulted Kaze once again. As the blast door of the elevator closed, Hall turned and saw Kaze looking at him. Then she removed the small steel pipe from her body, without flinching or turning her look on him away, and blood gushed. One of the medics frantically covered the wound with medical foam. If her voice released a chill down his spine, this action froze his very soul. He felt lucky the blast door closed when it did. Four hours later, Hall, in a more chipper mood, after reviewing the chat that the commanding general in Leeds had in his office regarding his comm, decided to call it a day and head to his quarters at last. On the mood for a good beverage and to lazily fall into stupor while hearing some Scarlatti, he paced himself to the quarters. Entering his code to enter his spacious personal quarters, the door opened and he walked in, breathing in the relaxation. As the door closed, the lights went down and a hand closed in with a big rag, covering his mouth and nose, surprising him fully. He tried to struggle, but he was quickly tackled to the ground. The figure was lithe, womanly. Even in the shadows, by the corner of his eye, he could make out the long hair and womanly features. The smell of the rag then assaulted his senses. A sleeping agent, dragging his consciousness to darkness. Bittersweet darkness. And at the edge of that murky cliff where his consciousness dawdled, a voice, libertonian by the accent, was heard in the distance, singing.

So Death is coming..
To purge this town..
I know your name..
And I'm gonna hunt you down.

.

---

[08:11 PM] Dusty Lens said: Well in that case. NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKE & #SAVAGE & #STORIES

[Thunderer]

The ceiling arabesques were looming through the feeble light like nightmares.

An apparatus of five metallic fingers, each of them with flawless precision, was hopping over harpsichord keys like a spider towards its prey. A very cold spider without soul or sensation, every one except vengeance. A figure was graciously swaying on the seat in the rhythm of the tune. Its posture had the pride of a victor -- one about to enjoy the spoils.

The tune's cadenza pulled Hall out of the chloroform reverie. He was laying on his divan. His body was spread in the form of a crucifix, with his extremities tied to the divan legs. The figure made a barely noticeable grin when it saw Hall trying to free himself in the reflection on the harpsichord lacquer.

"Loyola... Loyola, is that you? Loyola! Stop this madness!"

The figure met his pleads with perfectly indifferent silence and continued to play.

"You know I'm too old to make a good host!"

The figure seemed captivated by the tune's cadenza and its swaying seemed to show pleasure as its victim started to show signs of helplessness.

"Or is that you, Miss Vyu?... I'll hurry, I promise I will! Just give me a bit more time! Rome wasn't built in a day!"

Completely unaffected by Hall's rant for an explanation and mercy, the metallic spider kept calculating over the keys. It was nearing the final result. Hall was aware that only a few people in the universe knew how to play a whole piece as old as that one.

"Canary..." The seemingly harmless word struck his face pale. "George is safe. If you've heard any rumours, they are lies. The idiot is so innocent that doesn't even know I'm his father!"

The last tone echoed after "lies". The figure rose slowly, like a storm. Its face, covered with a black hood and a black scarf, looked down on Hall dominantly. His anxious gaze followed the figure as it went round him like a vulture.

"Who are you!?"

Silence. The slender figure with a black hood has come to take the toll from the crucified sinner.

[Kaze]

Suddenly the gloved hands grabbed his head, and proceeded to tie the final nail in the cross. Securely strapped on, Hall prepared once again to question his soon-to-be torturer. Pulling a small tube of rubber plastic from its pocket, it finally eyed Hall down. The black mask, eerily without a mouth, was finally visible. Raising a finger at the imaginary lips, signaling Hall to keep quiet, it forced the rubber tube in his mouth. Hall, not agreeing, was fighting against the inevitable, only armed with his mouth and tongue. Plugging his nose with one of its hand, he was forced to open his mouth to breathe.

"Mangez ça." She finally spoke, in a perfect Nevers accent. Female. The shock of the language and accent threw Hall off his deplorable fight. "After all.. We don't want to ruiner vos dents, oui?" As the tube was firmly gripped by a somewhat stunned Hall, the figure slapped his cheek slightly, like a playful jest. Next, a couple of earphones were produced from her pocket. Walking behind the divan, she got outside of Hall's sight, and without a word, the earphones were placed, without mercy, firmly in his ears. Once again, walking slowly and with an almost tempting sway of the hips, the figure showed up in front of Hall's sight, with a small device in her hand. She closed in, sniffing him once, like a predator smells prey. And the sound invaded his mind, as the figure disappeared once again from his sight.

The first few minutes were manageable. But the sound throbbed deeply in his head, each second more strainful than the last. And then, water. He thought he was imagining things at first. But no. A single drop started to fall on his forehead, from where, he couldn't say.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

With each drop, the sound seemed to resonate in his mind even further. Cold sweats invaded his body. The sudden urge to puke transformed his whole body. Hours passed by. He could not form a coherent thought for more than a couple of seconds, as he tried to keep himself sane, biting the rubber with all his might. The sound invaded his very soul, nauseating him in a way that he thought it was impossible. And those drops. Now they hit like they were hammers, each one like a thundering roar in the middle of that darkness.

Suddenly, everything stopped.

The hands were there, once again. The pleasure Hall felt on feeling those hands. The sound stopped at last. The hammering of unforgiving water was shoved away by those beautiful hands. They removed the earphones and pulled the rubber tube from his mouth without ceremony.

"Alors.. How were these fifteen minutes?" The masked gaul voice echoed.

.

---

[08:11 PM] Dusty Lens said: Well in that case. NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKE & #SAVAGE & #STORIES

[Thunderer]

The pipe dragged with it a thread of Hall's saliva as the figure pulled it out. The thread snapped along with Hall's will to contain the contents of his stomach. A small geyser of puke, through which he struggled to breathe for a second, covered his cheeks. There was a violent change in his eyes. Hall's confident glance was deposed from its exalted throne and fell on a crown of thorns, his eyes wide open from the pain, with the stare of a small animal driven into a corner. They finally opened in front of the icy wall of reality. The games were over.

Panting after having coughed out the vomit, dislodged from its millennial cradle of pride and security, his voice, already capitulating, uttered:

"What do you want?..."

---

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