Corruption and Change

[desecrator]

Desecrator landed his Raven Claw on the Revenant and the tall, dark figure stepped out of his ship and began to move toward his chambers. It had been a long time since all the Phantoms had gathered in one place. His bright blue eyes stared down the hallway. A slight breeze drifted down the corridor, blowing back his long brown hair. Waiting at the end of the corridor were his fellow lords and Slayers.

Good to see you all at once finally Well, without me being in there, Desecrator said as he nodded toward the locked room.

Onyx gave him and the rest of the slayers a nod and walked into the cell.


----------


Looking back at his fellow Slayers, he shut the door behind him.

A smirk came over Desecrators face as he looked down on Harrissons chained, limping body.

So THE Admiral Harrisson is it?

Glad my reputation still stands, Harrison panted.

Desecrator hit him hard in the stomach.

Hmm, it doesnt look like Onyx left you in good shape now, did she?

He hit the admiral across the face, grabbed a small object out of his pocket and showed it to Harrisson.

Do you know what this is, Harrisson?

A pen knife?

Oh, much worse than that.

A flash of light erupted from Desecrators weapon.

This will be pleasant, for me at least

Ear piercing screams reverberated in the chamber as Harrissons skin began to peel away. The smell of burnt flesh filled Desecrators world. He smiled evilly.

He bent down to the shivering and cowering body and whispered in the Admirals ear, This is only the beginning, Admiral

-------

The door finally opened and the sounds of pain became louder as Desecrator left the chamber.

The slayers looked at him eager to find out what happened during his questioning.

Desecrator said simply, Ignore his burns, they will heal Eventually.

---

[Fellow Hoodlum]

Glock turned round and walked back towards the chamber door. He opened it slowly and moved inside,
closing it quietly once more.
The sound of whimpering from the other side of the room caught his ears.

"Hello boy, see our favourite slayers have been entertaining yo... themselves with a little surgery. Seems
they forgot to ask any pertinent questions though. I must castigate them for their lapse in memory."

Glock pulled up a chair, spun it round, and sat facing the back with his arms crossed and his chin resting on
them.

"So anything you wish to tell me concerning the SA ? Or should I say, anything you feel you can add to
from the logs and reports retrieved from your ship. They make a most interesting read, and of course
the rescue attempt failed miserably at the first hurdle before you ask. We did send the coffins back."

Glock fidgeted, and brushed an invisible piece of fluff from his jet black lapel.

"Come on Jamie, nothing you can bring to this conversation then ? I was hoping for a little more spirit
from the great Admiral Harrisson. I do understand they are still going ahead with the house-warming
party back in New York in your absence, some excuse about you being called away on business, to
cover your non-attendence. Some surprise they will have later when your true vocation is revealed.
This is what comes from too much greed in the end."

Glock stood and turned.

"Well I have no more time for you, seems you are in need of a surgeon possibly, and I have just the
one in mind before your injuries get the better of you. And that just wouldn't do would it ?
Sorry, was that something you wanted to add, hard to tell through all that whining.
I'll leave you to it then boy, I have much more pressing details to attend to."

The sound of retreating footsteps burned in Harrisson's brain ...

---

Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."

[Zepphos]

Pain...

All other memories and thoughts had left Harrisson now. Pain was all that remained. He wanted to end it. The suffering had become too much. The first session, with the oh-so innocent, beautiful, devil of a woman, was enough to bring any man to death's gate and beg to be allowed passage. She would pretend to grant him this release, then bring him back into the world through hellish torture.

He had screamed, wept, struggled... nothing dampened his senses... he felt every last drop of pain dealt unto him. Burnt, dead, black flesh clung to his body. The face of the scorcher engraved in his mind. The manical laughter ringing in his ears.

Then, the questions.

Harrisson couldn't bring himself to answer, refuse, or even spit in the questioner's face. Shock had set in. He didn't know where he was anymore. The walls of his mind were dripping with blood. Occasionally, a voice would penetrate. It reminded him of his men, now where he longed to be. Dead, and at peace. The voice told of his family. Planned things happening without him... his wife.

His thoughts lingered on his wife, the pain forgotten. He remembered the time they met, their marriage, their petty arguments that always brought them closer together. All his happy thoughts. Not a single thought of space, or the military... The voice had stopped. Footsteps in his mind were getting further away. Then he felt it. His stomach started to churn. He felt his diaphragm contract, and the bile rise up his throat. He keeled and vomitted violently, Onyx's elixir working like a charm. Always into his happy place, then brought back into pure misery. Harrisson wept and wished for death...

---

[Kane]

The other Slayers and Terminator Lords sat, talking with each other about what they had done. Outside, the purple nebulae sparkled from ionic discharges in the particles, illuminating the black, daggerish space-scape outside. Then there was a second flash, a thin needle-like ship suddenly appearing from the nether, sliding forward with disturbing suddenness for those who have never seen reaction-less drives. The C'Tan shuttle moved out of sight as it proceeded towards the docking bay, touching down and depositing its sole occupant, the C'Tan surgeon.

Both the surgeon and Dark Star arrived soon after, stepping from one of the lift-tubes into the larger hall.

"Well well well... Been having a bit of fun, have we?" The marines who had gathered around to hear the stories roared in agreement, wicked laughs trailing off after a time. Dark Star grinned under his mask.

"Good... So, who of my Slayers have not gone yet? Now is your chance to do so, and then we shall enlighten this miscreant; He's been shown the error of his ways, and soon we shall show him salvation!" Once more, the marines roared approval, a few making bets on what the remaining Slayers would do.

The C'Tan surgeon, meanwhile, simply bobbed lightly in the air, looking about with it's multitude of eyes rather cautiously. None here would dare hurt it, but the last report indicated that several factions in this sector of the galaxy knew of the Temples existence, and location. The resourcers and head medical technicians had assured it that any direct assault on the Phantoms was a sentence to suicide, but all the same the surgeon had no desire to be in a battle.

---

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

[Virus]

"Lord, we have not had a chance to communicate with the gracious admiral quite yet," the chilling dual voice penetrating the souls of all in the room. "We have been practicing a certain technique, one that we can guarantee will be most useful for the enlightenment of future slayers. As a plus, we feel it may be rather discomforting to those that remain completely human. Unfortunately, we have been unable to test it."

Virus stood from his seat in the corner and walked a little closer to DarkStar, "With your permission lord, we would like to perform our technique on that of the good admiral. Of course, there is a possible side affect to this procedure: permanent destruction of the subject's psyche. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though."

---

Into the Maelstrom - A Measure of Salvation - Reaver Company Database

[Kane]

"Mmmmm..." Dark Star pondered a moment.

"Very well, Virus. But do be careful. We want him alive, and intact if at all possible. He's no use to me without a capable mind." Dark Star waved the non-human on, left to whatever devices he had in store for the once-SA admiral.

The C'Tan surgeon, for its part, just bobbed and watched. No human expression could be read, not even an alien expression. The Phantoms were truly psychotic, utterly and hopelessly insane, blood-crazed killers. Yet only against their own kind... It was strange to conceive for the surgeon, yet it had its uses. It didn't have to like the plan, it just had to follow it.

---

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

[Virus]

"Thank you, Lord." With that, Virus slowly walked into the captive's chamber.

"Good evening, Admiral. Before we begin, we would like to explain what you will soon experience." Virus' dual
voice sent shivers up the admiral's spine and steel gray eyes glaring out of the dark weren't much better. "Now,
we are aware you have little knowledge of my kind as a species, we think it is best if you were to learn a little
about the history of my species as well as a little about the Phantoms. Perhaps we should enlighten you to all
we have experienced in nearly five million years of life."

The admiral looked up into Virus' eyes. He felt cold but could not bring himself to look away. Slowly he was
approached and started losing his grip on reality as Virus' hands reached to either side of his head, without
touching. "Don't worry, there will only be a slight discomfort."

A sudden flood of images, memories, lives. The birth and death of thousands of star systems. With that, the
pain began... Pain without embodiment, worse than any experienced before or again. The foundations of his
very mind beginning to crack with the constant onslaught of information. Tortures, tortures experience by the
unfeeling. Pain beyond pain unfelt by the malignant Virus.

"Its too bad dear Onyx removed your fingers."

---

Into the Maelstrom - A Measure of Salvation - Reaver Company Database

[Alpha 429]

Obliterator sat in his private chambers sipping a vintage beverage. It had to be at least 350 years old, so young yet quite delicious. These luxuries he savoured to were only available on the Revenant thus he only got the chance to indulge every few months when he is called home from the enlightening. However this homecoming was pretty special, they had a very special guest on the Revenant. Obliterator knew what horrors he had and was being exposed to as he sat in his chambers in peace and serenity. For a man of death, destruction and enlightenment many phantoms found it strange that he could enjoy and tolerate such a state for the lengths of time that Obliterator could but they seem to have forgotten that they were not always like this, a long time ago peace and serenity were an essential part of Obliterators life and existence, as was knowledge.

But enough of that, there would be more time to debate that with his brothers and sisters after the job was done. Slowly and silently Obliterator rose and went over to a table on which rested a weapon he wanted to test. Another of Obliterators fascinations was with the collection of ancient artefacts, the race was not important, he had many from all over the universe: Dom Kavash, Miralukan, Nomad, CTan and Human to name a few. The one on the table was a human weapon. It was over a millennium old and used by the humans on Terra. Its design was interesting he had 2 such devices but the barrel of the one he was holding had been deliberately shortened. He had fired the weapon once and was intrigued by its scattering and shredding power, how he longed to test it on flesh and now he would get his chance. He picked it up and inserted a shell, he only had a few so this would probably be this weapons last ever shot. He left his quarters and headed for the holding chambers.

As he walked he considered the prisoners fate, he knew of the torture he had experienced at the hands of the others but that is not always the way to crack a man, especially a man like Harrison. No perhaps subtlety would be best in this case.

He arrived in the cell and Harrison looked up, a look of anguish came over his face initially but when he realised it was Obliterator his expression changed, he seemed confident, good thought Obliterator it is more entertaining to wipe the smile from their face. Obliterator deposited his items and walked over to the shackled Harrison who had been chained in an upright position by his hands and was semi dangling from the roof.

So more defiant Liberty dogs think that they can withstand the judgement of the Phantoms eh Admiral? I know all about you by the way. Obliterator said emotionlessly.

And I you Doctor. Replied Harrison obviously trying to regain what composure he could, he wasnt doing very well. I have read a file many thought long gone scum and do you know what? Harrison leaned over as best he could and whispered something to Obliterator. His blood boiled.

Obliterator had shed all compassion for human life but there was one small exception, a hidden sorrow long suppressed and now unleashed in rage by what he just said. Obliterator laughed maniacally which seemed to surprise Harrison. As he laughed he walked over to the ancient weapon and picked it up. His laugh stopped suddenly and he spun round with the weapon raised and aimed at Harrison left leg. He squeezed the trigger and the weapon discharged, its power ripping through Harrisons leg and blasting out his kneecap which was shattered and fell to the floor in pieces. Harrison shrieked in a loud high voice. Obliterator simply laughed louder than previously and bellowed now who is screaming like a little girl Admiral? Huh WHO?

Obliterator unchained Harrison who collapsed to the ground in a heap, his left leg was still attached and would probably remain attached. As Harrison tried to pick himself up Obliterators right boot collided with Harrisons stomach a loud, dull thud and Harrison rolled onto his back groaning loudly in extreme pain. Another powerful swing of his leg and Obliterators boot connected with Harrisons ribs resulting in a sickening crack followed by another howl of pain as Harrison lay on his back shivering and hurting on the floor of the cell. Again Obliterators foot connected with the now shattered ribs which only served to smash them more and lodge fragments into tissue and vital organs. This time Harrisons shriek was cut short by a heel blow to the oesophagus which collapsed his windpipe but not enough to stop him from fully breathing. However Harrisons breathing became raspy and loud. Obliterator grabbed him and pulled him up and then grabbed his right arm and twisted it behind his back slowly pushing it too far hearing the bones dislocate and crack and hearing Harrison scream out in pain and for mercy.

If he had expected mercy then he shouldnt have opened his mouth. Obliterator let him go and he once again dropped to floor. Defeated Harrison just sat against the wall motionless and quiet. Obliterator however had just taken a container from his items in the cell and walked back over to Harrison. He observed the massive hole in his leg where his kneecap had once sat. He then open the container revealing its contents. Whatever colour left in Harrisons face drained away quickly and Obliterator was satisfied when he saw Harrison look in horror at him when he saw the contents of the container. Salt. Before Harrison said anything, Obliterator poured the salt into Harrisons knee. The ear piercing scream was deafening. At this point a surgeon rushed in and almost screamed in horror himself at the mess of the room and the prisoner. He was rushing over when he saw Harrison start to try and get up only to be knocked unconscious by a blow to the head from the butt of Obliterators sidearm. The crunch of skull bone made the surgeon wretch.

As 3 more assistants rushed in to try and help stabilize Harrison, Obliterator left with his things. Looking at the ancient gun and pleased with the data he had collected from its test fire.

---

I know where it is Cortana, I just have to find it. - Commodore Puddles

[Kane]

Dark Star entered at that point, looking about at the mess and blood all over everything.

"No, no. This won't do at all! The floor is filthy! You three, get mops and whatnot. I want this floor to be clean for our surgeon!" The assistants quickly complied, leaving the admiral on the floor to bleed and lay in agony. The C'Tan entered a moment, latter, making a little clucking noise of distaste.

#This one will require a lot of work to fix... Why do you allow your underlings to do such things?#

#Simple... It proves the Enlightenment much more effective...# Dark Star grinned from behind his helm, and stepped over to the sobbing ex-admiral.

"Hush now, Harrison... I'm not going to hurt you..." Dark Stars voice was silky smooth, like a silken glove. Under it, however, was that hint of the mailed fist, powerful and cold.

"In fact, I'm going to help you. I'm going to take all this pain away... I'm going to show you a world, my own dream..." The assistants had entered at this point, and were clearing away the mess. The C'Tan alien, meanwhile, was working at a little control panel, a humming growing from the walls of the room. With the majority of the mess cleaned, the assistants pulled away. Dark Star knelt, and picked Harrison up in his arms. The impression of a twisted mockery of a benevolent smile ghosted on the helm, unfeeling orange glowing sensors for eyes looking down at the broken man.

"A world without greed, or poverty, or sickness, without war... An impossibility, right? Oh, how wrong you are... We have ways to ensure this, and soon you'll know them yourself..." He carried Harrison to the center of the room, and let go. He floated there, seemingly unsupported. But the C'Tan gravity generator kept him in place. Reaching over deftly, the Surgeon used his telepathy to shut off Harrison's pained nerves. He could look about and move slightly, but there was no more pain. A large variety of medical tools descended from the ceiling and Harrison's restraints pulled away, slipping off his arms. The floating alien used a number of tentacles and pulled a bewildering array of tools down to begin its work.

"This is something we call Enlightenment... You'll find out why soon enough, my Slayer."

Harrison struggled a bit, and spoke faintly. "Not... yours..."

"Oh, you were mine the moment you made it for the rendezvous, Slayer. You just never realized it until now..." Dark Stars infamous grin seemed to ghost over the helm again, burning itself into Harrison's vision as the Surgeon began repairing the body that belonged to the Phantom Empire. When it was done, the mind would become the Phantoms as well; another fallen to the skill of the C'Tan and the will of their vast empire.

---

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

[Zepphos]

I am not his... I'll never be his...

Harrisson stared at the medical implements decending from above. His limbs completely numb of any sense or feeling. There was no more pain anymore. He was greatful for this. He couldn't remember what it was like not to feel pain. It felt glorious to float, instead being hung. He looked at his body, at the mess he called his own. The tentacled being floating beside him was working on his left knee, where the flesh had been ripped apart and his knee blown out. With tremendous skill, the Surgeon cut away the ragged flesh, deftly inserted an artificial knee, and sealed the entire wound within seconds. Harrisson lay, amazed at what he had just seen. These beings were obviously far more advanced than he could ever imagine... Then the question hit him. Why are they keeping me alive?

He knew he should feel fear right now. Why would they keep him alive? But, no fear came. His mind was completely at ease. The Surgeon had started to open him entirely. Unknown to Harrisson, the Surgeon was reconfiguring his nervous structure, and his tendon and ligament placings. Thus making him stronger and faster, with improved sensory abilities. The Surgeon made light of the work, with his many limbs working at near light speed. In next to five minutes the Surgeon had opened and closed every inch of Harrisson's body.

When all the physical surgery was finished, the Surgeon floated behind Harrisson's head. Harrisson's brain fell into sub consciousness as the Surgeon rifled through Harrisson's thoughts and memories; replacing his happy thoughts of his wife and greed for money and power, with thoughts of torture and impulses for chaos and destruction; inserting Dark Star as a symbol of authority, power and justice; and removing obsolete memories of his childhood, family and friends, leaving him with only his memories of Military affairs and his regular ventures into the world of corruption.



****


The Surgeon, Dark Star and the assistants had left long before. Corruptor awoke on the floor of the cell. He had been clothed in the uniform he had arrived in. Curious, he stood up, took off the shirt, and looked at it, his arms outstretched. Frowning, he walked towards where he had recently been chained. He threw the shirt into a pool of his own blood that had been left as a reminder when he awoke. His frown was one of disgust at what he used to be. He spat on the shirt and turned toward the door. Finding it unlocked, he walked out.

All the Phantoms, save for Dark Star, were either sat or stood outside the door. Corruptor moved into the centre of them, facing Glock. His eyes scanned Glock up and down, and then stood facing him silently. Glock grinned.

"Enjoy that, Slayer?"

"It was certainly 'enlightening', Lord."

"Glad to hear it. You'll be needing some new clothes, unless you're devoid of taste. I'd like to say you could rest a little after your 'ordeal' but the rest of the slayers have become a little restless having to wait for you."

"Yes, Lord. I understand."

"Very good. Get prepared and we'll meet in the docking bay as soon as. Onyx will show you to your quarters."

Corruptor turned toward Onyx. His mind flashed back to the cell. Immeadiately he looked at his right hand. The two metallic fingers gleamed, twitching as though real. Looking back at Onyx, he smiled. Onyx smiled her sweet half smile, took a look at his hand, and shrugged. Corruptor began to laugh.

"Lead the way."

Onyx turned and lead the way. A slight skip in her step.



****


With a slight, pleasing creak, Corruptor's chamber door opened. He stepped out into the hall. He felt comfortable in his new atire, black being his new favourite colour. Blood red a close second. He began to walk down the hall towards the hangar, his grin widening as the departure time neared.

---