Get the Desktop App for Battle.net Now
- All your games in 1 place
- Log in once
- Automatic game updates
The Forgotten, Part 1 (Continued)
Sitting down onto the seat of his computer, he peered to the computer, with an aged radio and high tech computers residing together to give mix flavour. As the operative sat down, he extracted a data chip from his helmet, removing it and then attaching it into the computer. The screen turned on, as soon as the chip was added.
His given name, was shown, as well as many other words that were lettered on the screen… words of black were seen, highlighting a digital orange surface, which seemed static as it was.
Operative 07426334502 – ‘Orange Mason’
Activiating Auto-Seeker – Operative’s Scenic Data
Sent to Science Base VIA Holograph File (.hol)
Messages sent to operative by HQ… 2
Message 1: Science Chief ‘Dr. Greskinburg’
Video File (.vid) Activated
Beginning sent message.
Then, from the screen, a box with a face showed. An old man, with a robotic eye of red peering from the screen to the sent, looked with a face that seemed half machine where the jaw was. His grey eyes looked at him, with the room he was in lit in dark green and white, with some forms of metal seen where the shadows were not.
“Greetings, Mason. I know that your presence in this mission is vital to our operations, and the data that has been streaming has showed much about the aliens that exist… particularly, the Zerg creatures that have taken over our former world.
“I am giving you a mission to find the second, more powerful creatures that exist within the sector. They call themselves the Protoss, as you know if you read your briefings.” He did; the Protoss were known to be very powerful in machinery and psionics, surpassing the Terrans to a large extent, for sure. He watched the scientist without question. “The Protoss are on a head long battle again the Zerg, and instead of the said streams of extinguishing the world of all life, is combating them in a more… personal matter.
“Data is being sent to you with this message…” The screens of crystals, devices, and other machines that seemed to exist also showed on the screen, in different boxes with words and notes highlighting different portions of each of the showed… alien devices. He continued without stopping. “The Protoss must be examined in a different manner, and judging from other operatives on the surface, the Protoss are losing to the Zerg. Communications with Tarsonis for more resources has become extinguished for unknown reasons, and were are cold and out of information from the rest of the world. The presence of the other Terrans on the world are not friendly either. You are the closest operative to the near sight…
“A Protoss base is located over a hundred miles from where you are located.” A map showed, with his point leading to another. Measurement and name of each point was shown, with the second point being named ‘Target Area. “You must head there, and spy the scene personally. Extract as much data as necessary, and see if you can bring some ‘raw’ data as well. This is a highly dangerous mission, and the extraction of the crystals that run their devices must be extracted. When data is extracted, you must extract scenic data a second time…” A picture of another device popped in front of the screen, covering even part of the speaker. The ghost looked at it immediately; taking the screen, a giant machine was seen, with a tip end at the bottom, and a jet at a top. A radioactive sign was seen, radiating red over it. It blinked on and off, and he knew clearly what he meant about the ‘second taking’. The Protoss would be damned, once it fell on them.
“The Protoss will be vulnerable to the Zerg once more. Extraction of the Protoss in combat, in an unstable environment and hardened condition, must be taken into account. Once raw data is taken, as well as enough scenic data is taken as well... the last destination that must be taken, is Gaia Sigma, with all necessary data taken for research.” The nuclear device disappeared, with it minimizing and the map showing once more. A line was leaving the second point, leading to a third point. It was named ‘Gaia Sigma’. “You are the closest operative in the area; once you complete your mission, your next assignment will be given. Suggestion of taking enough supplies on the trip, as well as enough supplies for combat, is advised; combat is highly probable.
“Good Luck, Operative Orange Mason. You must retrieve the data, and is your only and highest priority.”
A woman voiced was heard, as the face of the cyborg man disappeared. “Message One Complete.” Beep “Beginning Message Two... Incoming Text Message.”
From the Screen, another message was seen… it seemed different, though. Instead of a normal message of black text on the orange surface, the screen began to grow more static… the ghost was confused. On the screen, the black background showed a blinking orange square in the top corner. Each letter showed, after every blink of the square, moving from the top left corner a little more right…
You cannot find him.
You will die, if you go on…
Run. Leave. Now.
The message was cryptic, vague, and hidden. Looking at the screen, he was confused as to what it was on the screen, who sent it…
Then, a feeling of pain was felt within his chest. Looking down, he caught a glimpse of something coming out. Hot; very hot. Yet, cold… very cold. And it was coming out of his chest, without even knowing. With the blue light gauging from his chest, the light gave off a dark feeling of dread, as blood seeped on his grey suit…
Then, from the startle, he awoke.
The Forgotten, Part 2
The eyes of the man were distorted and hazy; the sight in front of him was shaded and blurry. Looking from where he was, there were shaded figures that were all around him, while he seemed to be stuck in something. He felt a tight grip across his chest and shoulder, unable to move from where he seemed to be sitting in.
Then, he remembered.
Knowing what was wrong, he rubbed the front of his goggles, with his eyes. The darkness that coated everything was still there, but now they could be all seen. Everyone around him was wearing HE-Suits; Hazard Environment Suits. Retroactive suits, made before the new models came and replaced them. The helmet was a full head cover instead of just a mouth piece or a skull cap, with a stream pipe leading to their backs. Small units could be seen, with their suits somewhat plated, although mostly only on their feet and their right shoulder, as well as the helmet itself. They were mostly all black or dark grey, although some were wearing different HE-Suits as well… some seemed to wear stickers.
The only one that did not seem to be wearing the suit, was the one not wearing a metal safety harness in front of them… the same one he was in, was the large, red military suit that was sitting on the other side. Unlike the fabric clothing that most were wearing, he was wearing a full suit… a large suit that seemed like a marine, although pipes on his wrist and a large pack was seen worn. He would probably smell burnt, if he could smell the air itself.
But, like the rest of the people here, he was wearing the same suit as the rest of the people here; he had to. It was a standard procedure to wear such suits when entering. Even if he was in a place that had clean oxygen, the ship had a risk of contamination. For where he was landing, the ride would need him to wear the suit. It could break down at any time…
Then, from the riddling sound that seemed to pass his mind, the awakened was startled from movement disappearing. Then, with the sound of the wheels stopping, the sound of a bleep was heard, as the behind of the armoured guard had opened, revealing the outside world. When it opened, the red man moved to the side, revealing a land of shining blue. It seemed like it was snow, with shimmers of faint blue and silver seen sparkling on the surface.
“We have reached the destination of stop Jeremiah Benjamin. Please exit the vehicle if this is or your stop. If not. Stay seated, and we will continue on as the others leave. For those leaving the vehicle, don’t leave anything behind, or it will become our property. Thank You.”
The voice seemed raspy, with the intercom being spoken by someone that was not seen. The metal harness was lifted from him, as he felt his finger slip on a solid surface, pushed in. Lifting himself, the coat he wore moved with his own HE-Suit, as he stood up in the said ‘armoured bus’. Some of them that were sitting also began to lift from their seats as soon as their own harness was gone.
All but he and another left the bus immediately. Unlike them, he stayed to turn and look up; held up by metal bars, a duffle bag was seen; his duffle bag. Grabbing it with his hand, the metal glove held onto it, showing of plates that were pathetically painted in dark orange, with fabric that was brown. The hand grabbed onto the duffle bag, with the sleeve being the same colour as the HE-Suit’s fabric, with the duffle bag being tan in colour. It was heavy when he lifted it with his hand; lifting it across his bag, the weight left him, and seemed lighter than it was. The sound of shuffling was heard inside, although muffled with it being almost stuffed.
Then, before he left, he grabbed the wide brim hat, grabbing it and putting it on his own helmet; it was made to fit on the helmet, although he knew it would be too oversized for his actual skull. Still, he had to wear what was needed.
Then, he left; he passed the red guard, who could be seen with a smoke inside his own visor… it seemed to be burnt on the rims, along with some parts of his own suit.
Falling from the back of the metal bus, the outside seemed more fortified than the inside was, looking at the side. Stepping outside, his feet fell onto the surface, landing with the rest of the prints left by the others. On the white sand, the blue light was reflecting into his eyes, shielded by the shaded glasses on his helmet, along with the sun being covered by the brim of his hat. Peering past it the bus, and following the tracks, he found where the rest had gone to.
A large ravine was seen falling down into the ground, with blue rocks and stone having many cracks which the sands fell and disappeared into… seen clearly as the wind blows the sand onto the surface. Many small cracks were seen, along with many large cracks as well, enough to fit a large man… some holes that existed could even fit a large hut, if it were to be misplaced over it. Many cracks in the world were seen, along with many cracks in the world, shifting down to a lower surface. Some stone was gushing from the ground, extending and reaching the sky as spires, and some even extending like a cyst that was open, with gas extending from the pits.
There, on the surface of it all, was a metal structure extending; a large complex was seen, with many tunnels that existed in the sky, with other parts of it attached into one. Satellites were seen on the structure, as well as dark plates reflecting the blue sun. Metal legs were holding onto the ground, with metal pipes reaching into the ground instead of standing; the complex’s floor seemed to not touch the ground at all. Didn't stop how there was some metal meshes covering the uncovered bottom of the structure, although some seemed to be broken and torn…
Jeremiah Benjamin; Mining Refinery Settlement, he knew. The structure was of different shades of grey, with windows that seemed to be heavily barred with mesh covering as well. The structure seemed massive, although it seemed to be only taller than the ‘bus’ by a few meters.
Seeing that the people were moving towards a certain path, he followed those that had left the transport, leaving it behind as it moved along with its wheels. The heavily plated machine left, leaving those that had come here alone in their quarrels.
The duster coat was flapping from the wind passing him by, and the only reason why his hat did not leave him was how it seemed wedged onto the helmet. The blue sand showed its true colours, as it reached into his shadow. Facing away from the sun, he saw the blue sand turn white, before it either entered the light once again, or disappeared into the cracks below. They disappeared, along with the footprints left by the others. Ahead, they were entering the structure, which seemed to have personal there… they were coated in orange and red, however they were actually the suit compared to his. One was wearing a heavily plated, metal suit compared to the other one that was beside him, as well as the one in the ‘bus’. However, his weapon of choice seemed to be the same. One of them had an painted bulldog with horns, being red on an orange plate.
Many of the people that had left the ‘bus’ were entering the large building by a metal staircase; the residence left, disappearing through what seemed to be a door of metal. To the side of the structure, there were other people who seemed to be standing around, hanging to what seemed to be some form of trench. He was looking around, before he realized he was near the entrance of the settlement.
They didn't pay him any mind, as he passed them and entered the structure. Lining behind the others, he saw them all inside a boxed room, waiting in front of another door. Before the door behind him closed, the sound of another person was behind him, walking into the room with the rest. As the people entered, the door closed, with it locking and leaving the rest of them inside the room.
The sound of a sealed lock was heard behind, as air gushed into the room in white. Seconds later, the door in front of them opened, and the line of people moved forward into a hall of metal. The grated flooring was seen under their feet, as they walked over them with their own heavy, metal boots. As they moved on, the man behind him went past, revealing to have a new HE-Suit, having no helmet and instead just the breather and wearing shades in their fabric suit they had over their body. It was brown, with the few metal pieces that he wore for boots and parts of his body being light grey. Like the rest, no flesh was ever seen for him.
As they all walked in front of him, he moved as well… tugging his duffle bag into the unknown.
The Forgotton, Part 2 (Continued)
Walking in the complex, the halls were known to have many doors with a painted number on the surface… showing the apartments of different individuals being right in front of an exit. The entire place was lit with a red light, making the blue strain of the blue sun from before disappear into a different coating. The hall itself seemed to have a weird lighting that seemed unnatural compared to the outside, with some being fainter than others.
The hall was somewhat filled with different people, all wearing their suits within the halls. However, some did not; there was a man who was wearing a jumpsuit, with his hands and skin exposed as he was repairing a mechanical board. Another was what looked like two crooks, both smoking in front of a door, with a holster of a revolver on their belts. They seemed to be waiting for someone in CXXVIII. The rest that were in the halls, although few, seemed to be all wearing a version of an HE-Suit, either moving along or standing idly or with something of an occupation.
Moving from the hall, there was the end of it, connecting to another way of halls that stream left and right. Above, a sign was above, showing the information of the different locations. Within the complex: Bar, Farming Facility, Miner’s Transportation Area… other words were shown within the sign as well. As well, the numbers of each complex on the floor being listed, with over a hundred within the area… judging from what he saw from the outside, there was a second floor as well, which means that there would be more rooms. The entire place seemed crammed, though; all of the complex’s doors were only a few meters away. The halls did not go straight, as there were many other junctions where they would turn into a smaller hallway.
Looking at the sign, the thirst seemed to fill his need. Looking at the bar’s arrow, he went left, going down the other hall to his destination. He went down the hall of grated floor and solid metal walls, taking a few turns guided by signs. Eventually, he found a door to his destination; a door, with white words righting in full capitals: BAR. The door opened with just his presence, giving a look into the room.
A bar was seen with many tables of chairs, giving almost no space in terms of walking around. They seemed to be resting within the bar, with the chairs connected to the table itself. The bartender was in a half wall, having what seemed to have a surface of many rocks brought together by cement… the lights were different in the halls for sure, with the lights being white with different glasses of colour; the chandeliers of white light above was giving off lights of green, yellow, red, blue, pink… The flooring seemed to still be granted, although rugs seemed to have been strapped onto the floor, only showing the grates for when the table’s pole extended to connect to the flooring below, as well as the joining of the wall and floor. On the walls, decorations of portraits and photos, as well as trophies of what seemed to be a skeleton of some creature was hanging on the wall. Hell, they seemed to have strapped a missile onto the wall itself; two missiles, crossed together with what seemed to be a torn flag, showing a Kel-Morian Insignia and Spider Mine. Compared to the rest of the complex, the bar seemed to be more… valuable. Historical, compared to the modern grates and metal that seem to surround this world.
The few people that were sitting were all HE-Suit wearers; most had their helmets remove, or if not the helmet, the fabric head piece with the breather and visor. A few were sitting down, with food in front of them and a drink. Moving to the bar itself, he seemed to be in a different, smaller room, as a door from a wall was the only other connection between the dining area and the serving one. The many glasses behind seemed to show the same brand, most being heavy drinks. The bartender was not wearing an HE-Suit, although near behind him, there was an emergency case it seemed…
The bartender looked at him, as he stood there. It took a few seconds, until he finally spoke. “Bottle of Whiskey; Trevor Kellington’s. A leg to go with it.” His voice was cold, and he was simple in his talk. The bartender did not even flinch.
“The legs will come in a sec. I’ll get ya that drink, while you wait for that.” True to his words, a bottle of whiskey was brought to him, with a metal cup with a glass rim put beside it. The orangish drink had the label of olive and black, with waved words of ‘Trevor Killington’s’ written onto the label with what seemed to be an angel of black, in the back of the title. The bartender moved away, heading to a door, which was metal but opened by hand instead of automatically. Pushing it, the bartender looked into the kitchen. The feeling of the bartender changed, from the sense of facelessness to what seemed like a slight aspect of fear, and a larger portion of anxiety.
“Ben, leg needs ta be roasted and served.” He yelled within a room that was lit in red, with the sound of fire and metal coming from within; his voice was still the same, a she did when he responded to the ordering. The voice that responded was stiff voice was heard from behind, gruff and boasting in tone.
“You got it; leg bein’ cooked, and booked.”
A stream of fire could be heard, as the door closed and shut the noise from leaving, albeit the sound now being more noticeable that he noticed. The sound of metal and fire seemed to be muffled with the shuffling and noises made from the other occupants in the room he was in now.
The bartender looked at the man with the duffle bag, as he did not remove his helmet nor hat as he entered and received his drink. Minutes later, the sound of the metal door opening, to reveal a man in a tank top of dried sweat was seen, with half of a HE-Suit being pants down.
Entering where the bartender was, a man with the white tank top showed a good amount of tattoos on his arms; on his right, the markings of an Asian-styled dragon was seen, looking ferocious and fighting what seemed to be a three-headed lyote. He had burned marks on the rest of his skin, some even covering parts of the dragon itself. He seemed to somehow be steaming in rage, but he seemed calm and cool all the way. He put a cardboard bucket of served with a cooked creature and sauce on the bar. He looked at him with eyes that seemed to remind him of his. However, looking at him, he showed a small grin, or what looked like a grin.
Looking at him, his hand reached into a pocket of his duster, reaching in and retrieving a few coins within his holding. Putting it on the table, he replaced the holding in one hand to hold the bottle, glass, and cardboard that held his food. His last sight of the cook, was him putting his arm on the other man’s shoulder.
Moving from the bar, he headed to a lone table, reaching to it and sitting down. Putting his drink, glass, and food on the surface, he threw his duffle bag from his shoulder, shoving it onto another chair. Sitting down, he didn’t even move. He just looked at the bar, or at least the entrance door to go behind it…
Edited by HunkQue on 1/17/2013 10:02 AM PST
The Forgotten, Part 2 (Continued)
The metal door lifted with ease, and from behind it the cook walked out of it, moving down the dining area. Looking at the ghost, he sat down at the chair of the opposite side, looking at the shady individual. His grin was still small, although his eyes did not speak much in anything but hard. Hatred could be seen, but he felt from him that he was instead simply doing his duty. He seemed concentrated, with his face showing simple cruelty molded into a mask.
“You must be Mason. Ventured a long way to reach here, it seems. Glen told me about what you want from me… you seek me to leave my kitchen, and go out and fry?”
The cold Firebat seemed to show a sense of business in him. Looking at him, the former operative grabbed the bottle of whiskey, popping the cork with his metal thumb and pouring the liquid into the glass. Looking at him with his shades from his helmet, he shifted the drink to the cook, resting his hand on the table. He looked at him for seconds, noticing that he did not change his feelings at all, nor his face. After a while, he finally spoke.
“I need to find something that was lost within the quarantine regions. I was hired by some pirates to find an abandoned structure within the Matriarch Region. Apparently, the region was known to hold some data of high property, until it was decimated by some ‘giant beast’. I need to find it, for the better sum in my findings… it can be our findings, too.
“I want you to come with me to the region; a sum of a hundred thousand credits is served to you from the original two hundred and fifty thousand for the winning. I have received a fifth of the earnings for accepting this contract; I can give you that fifty, and then another hundred after we retrieve what is there.”
The cook did not flinch, although his teeth seemed to bare, with his eyes squinting; the feelings of questioning was felt, as he began to talk. “What do you expect someone such as me to do? I am just a simple man, ‘retired to cookin’ after servin’’,” with a mocking tone at the end. “What would you want me to do on the trip, hm?”
Looking at the cook, the feelings of trouble was felt, as he stood there to stare for a respond. He still had his face look at him the same, but his feelings were unsettled.
“You are a man that served, and have a history that had been blacked out. You were forced to retire, which most of us either did or served what killed. You worked for a group that was highly skilled in operations against the odds. It will only be you and I, against the rest that we come across. You can serve again in what we use to do in the past, Benjamin. Mostly, it depends if you can handle a few more scratches and burns along the way.”
He changed his expression; instead of the bared face of what seemed like hatred, it stilled into something that was what was seen before, and now matched what he was feeling, what he knew a part of him felt; cool. The Firebat looked at the man across the table, grabbing the whiskey glass with one of his hands.
“And what did you serve then, if not them? You were not under our name… where were you, when it all fell apart? Did you try to fight them even when everything fell, or did you disband like most of what was left, fleeing to the clutches of the Dominion?” His voice seemed to show hatred in his voice, and the sudden coolness seemed to tense, but then turn back. “I fought when we either died or fled to the other flag on the day it was destroyed. Were you there, or were you off somewhere, not taking the fight, hm?”
He grabbed the drink, and drank it down without stopping. It was empty, as he slammed the metal cup on the table, with alcoholic sweat streaming from the glass rim, down to the metal table. He felt hatred for what had happened that day, and even more so he felt a sudden building of ill connected hatred towards the man in front of him. He took off his hat on his helmet, and rested it on the duffle bag beside him.
Leaning in front of the table, the shades looked into the hating man in front of him, as his bare face was returning, although true this time. It was emerging, at least.
“I was on an ash planet, alone and still serving when we fell apart, sergeant. I was on char with a few, and we were there for over a year, hiding under a rock as we took fire from every corner that was facing us. I only survived, because of sheer luck and reliance on my weapons I held. I escaped with my life, in both the Great War and the Brood War were done and over with… I didn't know I was in two, until it was too late.
“I am not fleeing, nor have I fled to another; I serve myself, for some cash. You are skilled in survival; I want you to come with me, and if not then the gain will be for myself alone. It is your choice if you want to come.”
The cook looked at him, and steadily seemed to showed a lost of anger; sympathy was felt, with his face turning cool again. He looked at him for a while, before he grabbed the whiskey, and poured himself another glass. Before he even put down the bottle, he drank the glass hole again… and then poured himself a third; the bottle seemed to be shrinking in size.
“I’ll come with you… but one thing must be clear, here: If you betray me, I will kill you too. Do I make myself clear?”
The ghost shook his head in response.
“Good. I got a new suit from the old one I use to have… it is a little more heavy than the suits these kids wear all around… does that leave much of a problem?”
“No. Bring your suit and weapons. Our way there is going to be two against the rest; I suggest you bring yourself what you need to survive for a good while.”
He laughed at the man in front of him. Oblivious in whom he is, other than that they both use to serve in similar circumstances and dealt with similar situations, the man laughed, and spilt a bit of whiskey from the rim to the table. The emotions he showed were humble, it seemed… more calm than before.
“That shouldn't be a problem. Although when the time comes, you have to deal with my cookin’… you also have to eat that leg I made you as well, before we go.”
The ghost didn't respond; looking at the man in front of him, he lifted his helmet with both his hands, with the sound of gas releasing from the sides. Removing it, his fingers pressed on some form of nobs and buttons, pushing down on them as he released the grib of the helm and suit. Soon, it disconnected, and the air stopped hissing. Putting the helm on the table, the cook looked at him with a cool face again… and his feelings turned to unease. The ghost responded coolly with ease.
“It will be my pleasure… partner.” He grabbed the bottle, and swished the rest of it down, leaving the cook to drink his third and last drink with a feeling of disturbance. The ghost found it to be humorous himself, and laughed… a laugh that seemed forced though.
The Forgotten, Part 3
The sight of blood was all that was necessary; the feeling of blood everywhere, trapped and clustered, covering the floors, the walls, the sky… the storms and mist covering the world, rivers of fire streaming across and melting metal and rock… the world around was heated and destroyed. Trees were falling down, as the rocks were shifting and moving, and the world was breaking on their feet.
The world was breaking with his presence, and many soldiers of white were firing at the unknown, while others were being crushed and broken by the self-breaking world. The green soil they walked on breaks and shatters, while the savage beasts keep tearing at them. Metal walkers with large storage packs on their shoulders fired at the sky, against the locust that cover the sky and its light, along with the rising ash and the dust of the shattering crest. Under all their feet, they were either being killed by the world like the rest of them, or were torn by these monsters.
Behemoth-Class Battlecruisers charged with Science Vessels and invented carriers, with the three massive ships charging for freedom, while the swarm chased them down. Ships tried to defend, with the battlecruisers fired their lasers, while the smaller ships used many missiles to spray and topple the mass of aerial strain. All that seemed to exist here was still fighting, even when the world was falling apart…
Creatures of yellow and strange skins moved across a surface of ash and harden fire. Around them, they walked being bloody and broken, with blood of blue seeping and leaking on the surface they laid on. The creatures moved, with many carrying each other as they moved along. The only one that did not seem to fit was a dark figure that was moving with someone who seemed to be leading the pack.
Around them, the burst of the ground came, with the surfacing of creatures came from the ground and swam to the surface. Many of the group had been torn immediately by the surprise, while the rest reacted with a swift of their sword, even the wounded fought back. They all fought, as the rat creatures, the Zerglings, came and attacked the injured.
From the side, needles stormed and attacked the Protoss; something was firing at them, piercing both Zergling and the yellow figures. The leader of the group used a charged bolt against one of the shadows, but they seemed to be covered by something…
Black crystals surrounded the floor…
“Why don’t you help them?!”
“I was tasked to observe, not interfere.”
“Thousands of us had fallen to them, and you stood there and did nothing, you coward!?”
“I don’t see anything in what I did as cowardly; just following orders.”
“Only the bravest would know when to do what is right, not what is told-”
“That right is my duty, sweetheart.”
Black crystals everywhere; Shale covering the ground, although the seeps of obsidian were seen underneath despite how much it tried to cover. All around, large chunks of the black glass surrounded it…
“They’re coming all around! Engage, Eng-Ah!”
“They are coming from everywhere! Where is our BACK-UP!”
The marines of brown fought against the enemies around them, with their insignias of the old flag being scarred and torn off. All around, creatures of both the Zerg and the other enemy came, charging from the enclosed rocks all around…
The nuclear explosion came upon the world; the nuclear explosion tore at the shields, with the structures still standing, even when the residence were obliterated. However, some of the weaker structures shattered, including the crystals that seemed to hover with the rest of them. With them destroyed, many of the structures began to darken, excluding the pyramid, which was still standing even when parts of its plate, as well as the crystal on the tip of it, fell and broke, with it damaged and vulnerable.
The sight of the clouded growth trying to reach the sky was surrounded by the arrival of the ships of the residence, circling what was around them and beginning to surround what had been just attacked. With the place vulnerable and weakened, along with much of the residence killed by the sudden explosion, a blur from a distance was coming from the sky and ground…
The charge of creatures began to descend, as small creatures began to launch a successful attack, compared to the one that came before. With the creatures tearing at the base, the Protoss that remained were torn asunder… nothing was left of the mighty creatures.
The crystals were pitch black… but the reflections showed something else. Inside, there was something alive inside. Each of them were showing something that was unique. Some were showing creatures of many teeth, while another showed a great beast with a serpent-like body.
From what was reflected on the crystal, the blackness was clouding something inside. He didn't know what it was, but it was something that was thriving…
“Are you willing to invert this world, just to save that abomination? You creatures have no sense of honor.”
The voice was gruff and vile, yet seemed to riffle like water, waving in his ears as it spoke.
“This world is dead; they are here, and nothing will stop them. I am following orders with those that are outcast. They are not hunting just them, but even then I would see you as nothing more than insignificant to situation, dark one.”
The voice seemed feminine; it seemed stern, and betrayed. The sound of mockery was heard, with the title given to the other
“That abomination is the enemy, Izarasha; if you side with him, you will damn all of us to our death. What purpose was it for us to come to this world, only to side with that… thing?!”
“Your wisdom speaks volumes, Sarraute. Perhaps you should go and hide, like the rest of your kind. He helps us to our salvation, so that we can help the rest of them, before they are forever forsakened on this damn world. The people come first, dark one; the people come first.”
Wake up… wake up… you need to get up. Time to go.
Edited by HunkQue on 1/17/2013 2:01 PM PST
The Forgotton, Part 3 (Continued)
“Hey… Hey, Mason. Mason!”
His eyes opened, with the startle of the other. Visions faded, as the person standing in front of him was large and gruffed. The HE-Suit he wore was black with a red tint, with his clothing being of the new strand, with a breather and visor being separate like the rest.
“I got our ride ready; I ordered us a ride towards the region with those hunters… for half the way, anyways.”
The ghost stood up from the wall he was kneeling on, moving his back from the wall and having his tipped feet that was over the other to become independent… resting on the ground beside him. As a group of strange individuals brought in a large vehicle, they were wearing wide packs on their backs. They each held grenades and holstered small weapons on their bodies. The rest that were not wearing packs, were riding on vultures at a steady pace.
They were leaving the small hanger, as they took very little with him; he took his duffle bag beside him, and swung it across his back once more. Looking at the cook in front; not wearing his military suit, he was still equipped with a C-14 Rifle held in both his hands, while he had a hand-held flamethrower pack on his back. He seemed to be ready for a brief skirmish.
Looking at the people leaving, he felt his hand reach onto his Scythe, while looking at one of the vehicles remaining for the two; the hellion he was given, was coated with a devil dog paint job, with a one headed dog instead of the three the cook had. A dog with horns, anyways. It would be enough room for his bag, and the flamethrower attached on top will do well, until they reach their destination.
“Mason, you alright there?”
The cool voice was heard, despite it being changed by the breather he was wearing now. He looked like him, in a way… actually, he didn’t. He was more muscular, wider, and less clothed than he was… and he didn’t have the orange paint fading off of his suit.
“Yes. We should leave; hope the money was worth the cost for those things.”
Benjamin laughed. “Don’t worry, these boys have lived to their expectations for a long while. Having extra jets, storage for fuel, and necessary needs for this paradise… we will be good with these. Anyone that tries to fire at us in these armoured cars, will ‘be breakin’ and burnin’’.”
His voice was cruel, and dangerous; his intention seemingly vile for those that are following them on their journey… for now. From what he felt, the former operative seemed to show no emotion for those that he had burned, probably the reason why he was chosen as the role of a firebat. He might have to be careful around them.
“Good. Is your suit safe?”
“It’s in the back of the hellion. Fitting, I would think. We usually had to make some fixes on them, so that we would have our suits prepped and ready. Usually, it was our older modeled suits. Now, we try to make room for the newer, better models…”
“Doesn’t seem to be enough room for something that big, sergeant.”
The ghost walked with the brim of his hat revealing his helmet face, as he walked to the two vehicles that they had. The hellions were red and dangerous, and the feeling that it would explode at any second was indeed present. Rather, the feeling of it exploding at any second. Still, the feeling of the flames all around him was indeed pleasing… somehow, he felt like he was in familiar grounds.
“Don’t disparage these things. They are new, sure, but they get the job better than those bikes… plus, they don’t explode as easily. For where we are going, that is a good thing.”
“These will be fine. We might want to leave them when we can.”
Looking at the hunters in front of them, those that were not on a vulture bike, were going into a machine without wheels, hovering along with vultures, albeit looking less fast and more heavy. Someone was mounted on a turret that was on the roof of the monstrosity.
“Agreed… we might be theirs to eat, once they begin to starve. Well, try before the air gets them.”
His vile laughter was heard, as he entered his own hellion. The ghost, seeing his partner in the other vehicle, went to his own to main, ready to descend across the soon to be white sands… the sun was disappearing in the distance. It was going to be harder to see, now.
The hunters were going to hunt some of the feral Zergs that are on this world… on a different charted region, however. They were known for the guerilla tactics, which seem to signature the people on this world from what he had learned. Using tools new and old, they would be going hunting for the prizes out there. New prizes that seem to not be a burden to their lives at all… maybe they saw it as better. He didn’t know why, but the many feelings of excitement of continuation, as well as the thrill, were felt in all of them. In comparison to the burning desire and anxiety of Benjamin, they were going hunting. The feelings of them were beginning to become overwhelming, with the heavy stream of fire beside him. He stopped thinking about them, and his thought process was better.
The creatures in the quarantine seem to not be bothering the folks here, it seemed. It was strange, but maybe the border guards that surround it give a good feeling. Yet, with the small security that exists there, and how much the creatures were known to come in seem what endless numbers… they didn’t seem bothered at all. None had fear, none showed any form of dread or terror… they seemed to be content with them.
He wondered if he should have hired a small army of them, instead of this man. With what he was going to do, he knew better. He wanted him… it would be better if he was around, for where he was going. From what he has seen, numbers mean everything…
As he mounted into his car, the shell over him fell, with the world becoming dark; the sight of the world disappeared, as the thing had no glass to look out. That seemed to change, when the computer near the wheel turned on. With it turning on, the world in front of him showed, and the engine roared… the feeling of heat within the vehicle changing, turning on without him doing anything.
“Alright, partner… let’s heat the road.” From the camera, he saw the other red car leave without him, with the armour plates showing off the colours of written flame. The gun on the top was violent and dangerous, with a speck of blue flame already showing off as it began to ride. The radio rang with glee, as the man turned on some form of music in his car, transmitting to his own.
This should be fun, he thought as the ghost pushed the pedal, and charged behind the other.
Edited by HunkQue on 1/17/2013 2:18 PM PST
The Forgotten, Part 3 (Continued)
The dirt behind them streamed like water behind a boat, when the world was steady… following them and moving with greater velocity compared to the rest. The sands of blue disappeared, as the sun went and gone. The sound of wheels moving on the sands was heard behind the thin metal sheet that was covering most of the front and side, as they drove beside the hunters that were moving beside them. After a while, the sun disappeared completely, and the black sky of the stars and the grey moon above, which appeared to show off artificial lights that were on and operating up on its surface.
The red vehicles were swarmed in shadow, as the sparks of blue flame from Ben’s Gun on the Hellion was still lit. The vultures and the armoured vehicle that was with them, the Hawken, was moving on, ready to reach towards their destination. They seemed to try and race the two, even though they had a vehicle that was larger than them… although the vultures would surely be faster than their cars, he thought.
However, judging this vehicle from the other, it was hard to tell which one was indeed faster at this point; as the vultures had a partner that was slower by mass, these hellions were wider to store suits… particularly, the suit that Benjamin was holding onto. He wondered if they would charge if Ben would challenge them. Judging from the feeling of the others, the chance seemed possible, but he wasn’t sure if they would or not.
The two groups went on the same path together, although Ben and Mason kept to themselves. As the hellions drove across the desert, the people beside them were all armed and ready…
The package behind him sparked a wonder inside his mind. The Zerg he fought beforehand were all similar in their structure, with their being only one exception… if what they said were true, these regions will be swarming with strains that were not seen.
The markets that he saw in Glennburg, one of the only cities that exists on this planet, was a line of different creatures that were left to be taken and… well… the factors of sale was indeed strange. While he was known to hunt down specimens for research, they were hunting them down for food… weapons… pets… how such creatures have turned to become a market for these people was sickening, and how there has not been side effects that have happened, after they had eaten them, was something that left him in a cautious state about these people. Sensing from those that have eaten such food, the things that they were eating seemed very energetic. Perhaps it was because they have only ever had vegetables on this planet before. Maybe it was because the different, unique strains that resided here gave off something that those of higher bids want to have. Maybe it was the discovery of something that exists in this world that is not just another human being that thrilled these people, with many not even seeing another kind of life form for their entire life. Some in the city were fearful and worried, unlike those of Jeremiah Benjamin. Still, many seemed to be happy for the few years these things have existed and grown into their world…
He wondered what it would be like, when the deserts finally turn into life. Hostile life they would be, but life nonetheless. If it wasn’t for the two races, this place would be entirely empty. It was a barren wasteland, with toxins fueling the sky and the inside of the earth, as well as being a world that is dead to the core. Still, this place was filled with riches, compared to every other world that exists. Compared to some other worlds, this place was better than others.
“Mason. Don’t get lost here; we are pulling off from them.”
The radio spoke, with the sound of the firebat speaking to him from it. Holding onto the button, the ghost spoke back mechanically.
“I am following you, sergeant. “
The radio shut down in silence, as the monitor showed the car in front moving away. Seeing that it was leaving to where the sun would rise, he followed right behind him with his hellion, straying from the hunters as they kept going straight. He could not see them behind, as he kept looking at where his partner was leaving. When he was farther away from them, the former ghost pressed on the button again.
“Sergeant, how far is it to the Matriarch Region?”
He waited for a response, which came quicker than expected. “The region is in the near center of the quarantine, with many other regions covering and protecting it. For where we are going, as you showed before, it will be about forty minutes until we reach the Cross between the Beta and Psi Regions… and Psi Region will be where we will be going, until we reach the Theta Region, which is held by the Matriarch Brood.”
“Psi Region?” The memories of when he looked at it before ran in his mind; the Beta Region was known as the Thorn Brood, with many areas of thorn spines poking, with Zerg following similar shape and features as the growth that was coming from their creep. The Psi Region, though…
“Is there something wrong, partner?” The voice was cold and harsh, although from the emotion felt from the person, it seemed to be very cool and calm.
“Yes… I was expecting to go through the Thorn Brood was all. I didn’t expect to go through the Marsh.”
“You did your research.” The voice seemed to reflect what he was feeling now. “You should know that where we are going, the acid content there. I suggest that you stay away from the pools, and watch the sky. Compared to the thorns, the growth will be little and large, and any hiding in them will burn up with ease. If we went the other way, the leading maze of forestry will just lead us to fall to those creatures faster. Plus, it is a fastest way to reach the region, since it is clearer and the Zerg that reside are even at risk of melting to the mist. Thanks to our suits, the mist fogs will pass us by, since we are mostly covered by metal, and are skin is in check. The thorns can hurt us though.”
The marsh region… he never visited any of them, but the telling of their highly acidic environment was something that had scared many of them that spoke of it. Others have always hunted within the beta region, and survived. When he looked up this former soldier though, he had been listed here for almost three years. He had been doing much within this world, including help battle the Zerg when they first attacked the settlements. He also was said to survive the fall of Tarsonis, and battle both alien species and rebel forces at once. He had ventured here before, like the rest… he knows what he was doing.
“Understood, sergeant; as long as we get to where we are supposed to go, how we get there is of little concern. The walk will be about five days without interruption, correct?”
“Yes.” He spoke for a brief second “If uninterrupted. I suggest we eat some rations, and store them in our suits. We won’t be resting anytime soon.”
Just like before. “Alright. Let us reach to the borders of the region, and we’ll get ready before we depart. Once we descend into the region, it will be a long while for us to even return.”
“You are leading this expedition. From when cars left that garage, to the edge of the marsh, I will lead. When we reach the other place…” He felt a vile humor filling his mind, close to insanity. The urge felt was something that showed that of not instability, but dark love. “I’ll be just acting as body guard. Hope your credits were worth this trip.”
Yes. He thought with a feeling of sudden content mixed with dread. Yes, I think you are getting less that it is worth, Ben.
The Forgotten, Part 4
The trail across the ash was hard; the travel across the fields was filled with the world, with earthquakes and molten rivers coming from places where they did not come from before.
The travel was dangerous for even an individual such as himself. Although he did have cloaking, and many of the places in this world allowed him to hide, the way there was still dangerous for what it was. The world has been dark for a while, and it seemed that the world was having issues from the conflict on this world.
The movement through the mountains, the ravines, the cliffs, the molten rivers and lakes, the fissures and craters, the highly radioactive areas, and the dangerous storms of dust and ash blinding his sight… it was all there, where ever he went. Of course, he knew where he was going, but the destination seemed to be farther than it should…
At one point, the ghost looked up to the sky, to see something up above. From the clouds, a great behemoth emerged, hovering across the land that it was now in. The shadows were the only comfort he had; he hid within them, as the giant metal beast went across the sky, passing by. It wasn’t theirs, since the Confederates were not supposed to be here; the army was sent to defend the core worlds, and Char is too far to be considered that, of all things. Looking from under a rock, Orange saw the giant Battlecruiser pass, moving with a sound of continuous thunder following it. Waiting for the ship to past, he stood there with his weapons holstered, and ready to cloak if his signature was taken.
He had his C-10 Rifle once again, with a 10 inch dagger holstered beside a Scythe Pistol. He was carrying other things as well in his packets, since he was going to be away from any resources for a while. Anything could happen in the battlefield, he learned. Other people of his squadron that were like him had fallen to this world, and he knew that most died when exposed, and even more with lack of resources. If he was ever discovered, or ever delayed, he will have what he needed to survive a war by himself, at least. He didn’t carry much in luggage, though; he carried what his belt allowed him to carry, and for him it was enough for him.
Special Operatives were ‘designed’ by the army to outlast a regular soldier, and to deal with the harshest of conditions when it came to war. Starvation, lack of ammunition, and lack of support was only few of many things to consider. If he was an assassin, he would have not been so prestige. Yet, with what he was tasked to follow, and for the people he was working with… survival in the battlefield was the majority of his training; become a one man army, it seems. Yet, from what he had seen, one man cannot defeat the infinite. Nor a giant ship with a C-10 Rifle. He has to take this safely, as he was trained to.
His mission was simple: gain combat data within a Protoss Encampment, Nuclear Launch, and then a second glimpse of combat data once more. Afterwards, he would retrieve an energy source of the Protoss. He will have to play it safely, when it came to them; unlike the Zerg, which were mostly just beasts that were dangerous in numbers than individually, the Protoss were more formidable even when alone. Along with their weapons, their psionics was dangerous to him, as well as everything else that faces against them.
Yet, he had his own tricks for combat, he knew. Remembering it, he knew that the feeling of heat all around him was something that reminded him. He had a feeling of grief for those of the past seemed to roam, with the heat all around. The Protoss seemed to be fighting something that he was fighting as well. He wondered what the Protoss could do, if they were not obliterated. Even then, he knew that if they were not facing the Zerg, they would be after everyone else. It didn’t matter, anyways. He didn’t exist; they were a target for the Confederacy. They were no different to the Zerg for them.
The coast was clear; seeing that the Behemoth was gone, the operative moved on, climbing up the rocks even more towards his destination. There were no straight roads for him; no one tried to climb at him from hard terrain. As long as he was in higher ground, and in a place where the terrain was on his side, it will always be there to defend him from anything…
The ghost went across the rocks, climbing up the cliff until the end was gone from his sights; he gathered across a stream of flowing rocks, stepping over them as he moved from the lava below; the swelling of high heats was somewhat felt, however his suit kept him covered in his walk through hell.
At one point, he had to run across the stream of creep that was in the center of a shale path, growing and extending all around the surface, while lava was streaming from cracks on the ground; below, the world was scattered with colonies. Creep colonies scattered across the ground, with scattered remnants of structures…
A Terran mining facility was on a cliff, with the installation doors to the inside being half shut, with the other clogged. There, creep was writhing from within the underground area of the facility, with the supply depots and missile turrets being covered by the purple mass. There didn’t seem to be activity of any sorts, though; the Zerg seemed to not be outside at all, or if they were they were not seen. Mason knew what this place was.
It was Kel-Morian. The KM Symbol was written on the door in plain white, and remnants of goliath skeletons were seen under some of the creep. The clogged door was pure creep infestation, and infestation of other sorts was seen. Tendril sprouts and other creep growth was taking over the exterior of the mining facility, while it seemed the debris took over the rest. The Zerg had taken over this place.
Yet, none were seen; none were above the skies, and none were seen on the groun. If there were any, they would be inside the surface, waiting for someone to come… coming from the ground, and then obliterate anything in their path to nothing. Mason knew much about Zerg tactics, as he has seen in this world for the few months; they were ruthless, and if they did not come in mass, they came in surprise. Somehow, looking at the Kel-Morian facility, irony seemed to be something that had come in mind, looking at this place. Such irony was not something he wanted to be tested, though.
So, with ease, the ghost moved on to his set destination.
The world finally darkened, as much as it could; the fires of the world lit up much, and the clouds that were above no longer had that glow from its sun. Now the entire world had been lit up by the fires of the world, and he knew that some were not those of the molten rocks either.
The sighting of the Protoss was different than before. Once, there was a fleet of one that came to this world, and soon there were the Protoss that joined in the world where the Zerg have established. It was once a world of mining, yes, but the Zerg took it with ease. Now, the other aliens have come, but this time they didn’t try to eradicate the world, as they did with others. Instead, they came to this world and fought. Now, after a long battle, it seemed that the numbers of both have diminished for some reason. The Protoss was recorded and seen killed, as he had personally seen himself. The Zerg, however… they use to cover the planet, and it was too dangerous to explore in the open, as the swarm seemed to hold every single inch of the planet. Now, like the Protoss, they disappeared. Perhaps the Protoss were indeed bringing the Zerg down in numbers... or he was missing something.
Either way, the mining facility that he saw, as well as passed, now shows that the swarm seems to wither in numbers… or as he thought before, hiding. There was no good way to truly find out without risking his life.
The Forgotten, Part 4 (Continued)
Travel across the world was harsh enough; the world was a wasteland by itself, brooming with the heat of the world. Yet, with everything that was all around, he could not but think that such tragedies that have occurred for everyone came for some reason.
This place was a hell, that many have died in and never came back for another. Others left, he knew, descending to the skies and escaping to other places that probably were more lively. But the abandoned places that inhabited the world, the deaths and the swarms of 'things' tearing at each other bit by bit, even so far as being seen to tear each other apart at times. The swarming beasts, the Zerg-Class aliens that came to this world, brought death after death, consuming every single bit of home. This place was the largest hive ever recorded, swirling and twirling with them every chance you took to look outside. Now...
Everything seemed to empty itself completely. The swarms began to disappear, as the coming of the newer form arrived. The classified, and self-claimed Protoss. They came and then with their arrival, as well as the empire formed from the ashes of its greater rival, came here. Battle after battle was seen, taken, and looked at by the ghost, as Mason took it all in for the remained of what had not been burned to ashes just yet.
They still remained, though. Despite it all, he and the very few remained, hidden under it all, hiding from all forces and trying to find a single speck of surviving. Even in the fallout of the own Confederacy, his squadron was still functioning, not halting on its process a bit.
He of course never questioned. He was an agent, working under the guise of other leaders that existed in the same circumstances as he. Residing and hiding, the ghost never questioned, never asked, never second guessed command. It was better not to, as it was better to follow what was told than to second guest. Otherwise, death would be easier here. He hadn't fallen yet, but the travels on this world, which was more than others have lasted for, was urging him. An urge of a final thought, which seemed to grow the more everything seemed to dwindle around him...
There were others like him, he knew very well. Yet, now there was only him. The rest were... gone. Never making contact again, where ever they went. Probably KIA. Never to be seen again, the wonder as to how he survived was something he did not know. He had been put into tight situations, and at times he knew he should have died...
Bloated creatures that watched the skies; the rat creatures, those zerglings, charging in the millions in a stampede that made even the ground shake; the slithering Hydra-class Zergs, hunters and vicious creatures both in close quarters and far range; the behemoth Utralisks, the wormish Mutalisks, the mantis-like queens... too many horrors on such a world, and he was yet to be caught. With so many, the thought of them finally finding him was sure, and at times he was glad to be able to blend, otherwise joining the rest of the fallen... Joining the rest of the ash.
But the warmth around him told that he was still alive. The flames, the magmic rivers, the dry heat waves that rippled across the surface of this hellish world. Everything felt so alive here, despite death being everywhere.
The heat was his only comfort. He felt it all around him, yet he was not sure if the rest of him did as well. The world was blooming with it, consuming everything as others fell down into the cold surface, the flames turned ash and crust. Even bones did not remain long here, he knew well.
If it were not for everything else, being a hunted creature that was sought out indirectly by so many... this place would have been appealing enough to reside. In different conditions.
But the heat still remained, with everyone else disappearing from his scopes and sights. As the ghost traveled on and on, the swarms of Zerg, still alive and well, were now smaller than the mighty beasts use to be. Once clouding everything, they seemed to be creatures you do not see once every hour anymore.
It was better for him, now. His work was easier, it seemed to be. Everything was now stretched, open for him to live in large chunks of peace amongst chaos. It never seemed to last for very long, though...
And with the que of a cliff being finally climbed, a crater was seen with something too yellow and bright to be that of the flames. The distance long ahead was something meant to be seen, yet now he felt his peace disappear. It was there; his target.
Quietly, he resided back into a cavern on the other side of the cliff, heading inside with his metallic gloves helping glide him inside. The ghost, propped inside, took out his rifle from behind his back. The place seemed to tower like a city, with many structures lining up again and again on the surface. Structures of pyramids, archs, spheres, and cylindars of all shapes and sizes. Everything was alive and flashing, with light emitting from glasses of the unknown, as well as within the structures themselves. The colour of blue flickered, as everything there was still ready and alive. Everything was still there, yet the residence seemed to be abscent as of now.
Lifting his rifle, the ghost proned to a comfortable position, with his stomach laid lazily onto the rocky surface, unfelt and ignored with ease. The rifle gleemed to the distance far and below, looking at the assigned target. Peace was never lasted long, it seemed. Yet, now was a target meant for him, and his work had begun again. Looking threw the scope, he ignored everything, as his job was now in motion completely in this moment on.
He watched, never looking away, and never taking his eyes of the target... all of them were in his sight.
Threats of violence. We take these seriously and will alert the proper authorities.
Posts containing personal information about other players. This includes physical addresses, e-mail addresses, phone numbers, and inappropriate photos and/or videos.
Harassing or discriminatory language. This will not be tolerated.