Riot Force/Sabres of Paragon: To Spite a Giant
Four Colors 2: Red
Of all the truck's myriad guards and operating crew, only a couple were
really all that nervous. The guards were alert, of course, but unaware of precisely what the cargo they were guarding actually was. The various mechanics
looking through the hardware, however, knew exactly what the restraints and various software connected to the large crate in the back of the truck was used
for, and what would happen if it failed. Especially given what Crey would do if they failed.
Despite their nervousness, however, no one noticed two women creeping along a
nearby rooftop.
"You're sure about this?" Ifrit said, looking down from the
edge. "I'd hate to bug these fine folk if they were doing something perfectly legal," she grinned. Inside her armor, Sylia smiled back, running
through combat checklists to make sure she was at maximum efficiency. Getting all green readings, she stood up. "My contact was very precise about the
timing. Ten minutes later and we'd have missed them, and her, entirely."
"Well, looks like we're right on time then," Ifrit said.
"Shall we?"
"Let's," Sylia said, leaping off as Ifrit sprung into the air, flames raining down among the surprised guards. That and the bursts of flame from
Ifrit, still hovering in the air, quickly distracted several guards as Sylia landed, providing them with little warning before the metallic blue blur slammed
into them, body armor and guns being sliced apart with equal skill. The confusion as the guards attempted to change their awareness to ground level to take out
Silicon left several wide open, and fireballs raining from the sky sent them flying into unconsciousness.
***
Smith looked out, groaning. "Our guards are down to four, and there's only two of them…."
"That's how it always goes, huh? Hope you like prison food," Sanders sighed.
Smith considered that, then frowned. "For this kind of job? We'll be
lucky if we don't get sent to the Zig itself."
"But the Zig's for super powered freaks!" Sanders blanched. The Ziggursky Federal Penitentiary hadn't earned its reputation for nothing.
"It's maximum security. Transporting an unwilling victim after kidnapping them? Crey'll wash their hands of us and we're stuck there for
sure."
"Damn it, we're fucked…." Sanders groaned, wringing his hands.
"Not just yet," Smith said, pulling out his PDA. "If I'm gonna get jailed, I figure I'm gonna try anything I have at hand to stay out of
there."
"Like wha-" Anders started to ask, before seeing what he was doing. "You maniac! What's to keep her from attacking us?!"
"Because we're a smaller threat than they are. And as is, our situation's hopeless anyway. This way, at least we can escape and Crey'll take
us back in to cover up the evidence trail."
"Or kill us," Anders pointed out glumly.
"They can do that in the Zig too. I prefer this plan. And on the off
chance she beats them, we get a promotion. I can shut her down."
Anders looked wary, then nodded, more out of desperation than anything.
"Do it."
Smith nodded, pressing the activation key as the program booted up.
Running...scorched_earth.exe…multiple targets detected….booting
up weapons…
***
Sylia barely had time to notice two techs jumping out of the truck before the
roof of it exploded outward in a blast of electricity, followed by an armored figure. Another bolt of electricity seared her retinas as it struck the cab,
setting the entire area ablaze as its gas tank went up. Blinded, Sylia missed the third bolt that slammed into her chest and knocked the wind out of her even
as her hardsuit registered an abrupt power loss. Rerouting power to make up for the lost battery life, Sylia jumped clear of the blaze, only to see a red
armored figure stride out of the fire.
"Nene?!"
Ifrit didn't hear her, only seeing an armored figure attacking her
teammate. Unfortunately, Nene noticed her as well, and the blast of flame that rippled out towards her didn't reach its target in time. Nene sprang forward
across terrain before getting right up next to her. Ifrit felt an odd pulling sensation as her flaming aura dimmed, and what little damage was present on the
red armor in front of her rapidly healed itself. Then she was dodging as the figure began throwing lightning at her. "What the hell?! Volt tanks can't
do that!" she yelled.
"It's not a Crey tank. It's one of my teammates," Sylia said
coldly through the comm. link. "They must have done something to her…"
Ifrit recalled through memories not her own similar statements from a variety
of sources involved in Crey investigations. Over the last week, Sylia'd reluctantly opened up about the women she intended to rescue, and Ifrit had begun
to get an idea for what could inspire such devotion against overwhelming odds. They were her family, as far as she felt and knew. Especially given what she
knew now about their origins and that her "brother" was probably living a dimension away with his real sister. As she dodged blast after blast of
lightning, she remembered the stories about a spritely young girl that was there for purely support reasons yet never shied from combat, trying to improve
herself despite her lack of actual talent compared to her teammates in such areas. A guileful prankster with a ready grin and infectious laugh. And all Ifrit
could see here was a killing machine controlled by Crey. And that made her angry. Which, unfortunately, meant that her flames heated to match her mood,
unconsciously.
There is a deep primal fear of fire that's ingrained in the hindbrain of
most humans and other species that live on planets with oxygen atmospheres that allow fire to burn. And, although marvels of technology, the 33-S buma series
replicates this innate human trait as well. So was it that the massive ball of flame shooting at Nene at high speed stalled her control programming for a brief
instant as she began processing the emotion of sheer panic. This slowed her reactions enough for it to hit directly, and the armor developed
by Crey, albeit more durable than that which inspired it, was still not equipped to absorb damage the likes of which Ifrit's fiery attack had inflicted on
it.
Damage estimates flickered across her HUD as Nene's control-locked mind
reeled at the burning sensations rolling up her arms and torso, the control programs flickering as the imperfect neural overrides dealt with more input than
they'd been designed to handle. Metal began to flow slightly like wax and sparks began to fly at random from the armored girl's gauntlets as the field
cohesion that kept them targetable lost control. But more noticeable to her opponents was the sheer scream of pain as the heat leaking
through the hardsuit's insulation(which, by pure luck, was able to resist melting as well) got through the constant input into Nene's cerebrum of
"kill all targets" as the hardware reinforcing it suffered technological heatstroke and shut down. Which left the young Sabre screaming in pain as
she made a beeline for a nearby fountain.
Sylia's eyes shot open in shock at the scream, and the situation parsed
out quickly to her mind….as well as the dangers of what would happen if Nene threw herself into the water with those electrical weapons damaged. Nowhere near
close enough, she activated her commlink. "Ifrit! She can't get into the water! The damage to her suit means those arcs of electricity could fry her
inside her own suit!"
Ifrit, already slightly horrified at her own loss of control, recognized the
appropriate threat and shot down like a bomb to intercept the girl. Not knowing any other way to make sure she wouldn't attack them afterwards, or even
attack Ifrit while she carried her away, Ifrit felt the arcane energies gathering around her fists. "Sorry, Nene," she said softly to herself before
slamming an energized fist square into the armored figure's face, sending her cartwheeling backwards several feet and stopping ingloriously next to a
dumpster.
Ifrit let the flames still licking about Nene's armor flow back into her
own aura as Sylia landed beside her, doing a series of checks that hinted at far more time being an impromptu medic than the woman's bearing and background
had ever suggested to Ifrit. A stream of excited energy rippled across her awareness as Sylia made a full spectrum sweep of the surrounding area for obvious
thermal sources and then worked the clasps of her teammate's helmet, pulling it off and revealing the girl's features. Ifrit didn't notice the
aspect of herself that most of MAGI would classify as "Fey" being….well….fey….and taking extra interest in the girl…Nene's….face, still blackened
from the smoke inside her suit, her hair frazzled by the heat but otherwise hanging limply around her face in the vibrant red shade that Sylia'd described.
Sylia, for her part, checked to make sure she was still breathing, before gently replacing her helmet and picking her up, her HUD already displaying the
closest hospital. "Let's go," she said. "I don't want to be around for their cleanup crews, and Ne….Net…here needs attention,
stat."
Following, Ifrit found herself turning over the stories Sylia had told her, having a face to put to the name now, as they made their way to the local
hospital.
***
"Hey, it's the firestarter that thought I'd make a good barbecue," a weak croak noted playfully from the bed.
Ifrit blinked as she walked in, looking at Nene who was now wearing a series
of bandages over her arms and showed signs of some under the hospital gown. She blushed slightly, looking down. "Uh, yeah….I'm still kinda…new to the
whole throwing fire thing. I didn't mean to hurt you that badly."
"Naw, it's okay," the young woman(the not entirely hiding as
much as it could have hospital gown made a point of showing Ifrit she couldn't think of her as a "girl" anymore) noted in return, sort of
nonchalantly waving her bandaged hand at Ifrit. "Shut the programs down by overheating the circuits. Though at least I can be aware of the fact that you
didn't fricassee me on purpose," she noted.
Sylia, leaning back against the wall to allow the two of them to talk, favored
a slight quirk of her mouth that could almost be a satisfied smile. For the first time since she'd arrived here, she'd accomplished something of
personal worth to herself. As the two girls hit it off and bonded thanks to Nene's own infectious personality, she allowed herself a slight smidgeon of
hope that, before long, all her girls would be back home. Linna…Priss… Schooling her features to motionlessness, Sylia let herself savor one of those memories,
not tainted anymore by the specter of Crey's security being as bad as GENOM's or worse when they had a "pet project" that needed to
"disappear". She also suppressed a slight laugh at the memory of Nene using a small catapult to fling mistletoe at the two of them one Christmas,
this one more brought to air by watching Nene act as she always had, even bandaged and lying in a hospital bed. That image, and that tiny piece of hope, left
Sylia feeling content and more relaxed than she had been in weeks.
It was only a half an hour later when the two girls finally got around to
trying to include Sylia in their conversations that Nene and Ifrit noticed the leader of the Knight Sabres had drifted off to sleep leaning against the wall, a
soft smile on her face.
***
Author's Afterword:
Egads, I finally finished this. When was the last post in this? JUNE? It's nearly
mid-October now. Gnrgh. At least you can expect the remaining two(possibly three) parts of this to happen relatively more quickly. I have no idea what stalled
this one, but it's done! *does happy dance*. Amusingly, there's several bits of continuity in this that
didn't exist at the time of the original story, so I guess good news/bad news, no?
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Four Colors 2: Red
Of all the truck's myriad guards and operating crew, only a couple were
really all that nervous. The guards were alert, of course, but unaware of precisely what the cargo they were guarding actually was. The various mechanics
looking through the hardware, however, knew exactly what the restraints and various software connected to the large crate in the back of the truck was used
for, and what would happen if it failed. Especially given what Crey would do if they failed.
Despite their nervousness, however, no one noticed two women creeping along a
nearby rooftop.
"You're sure about this?" Ifrit said, looking down from the
edge. "I'd hate to bug these fine folk if they were doing something perfectly legal," she grinned. Inside her armor, Sylia smiled back, running
through combat checklists to make sure she was at maximum efficiency. Getting all green readings, she stood up. "My contact was very precise about the
timing. Ten minutes later and we'd have missed them, and her, entirely."
"Well, looks like we're right on time then," Ifrit said.
"Shall we?"
"Let's," Sylia said, leaping off as Ifrit sprung into the air, flames raining down among the surprised guards. That and the bursts of flame from
Ifrit, still hovering in the air, quickly distracted several guards as Sylia landed, providing them with little warning before the metallic blue blur slammed
into them, body armor and guns being sliced apart with equal skill. The confusion as the guards attempted to change their awareness to ground level to take out
Silicon left several wide open, and fireballs raining from the sky sent them flying into unconsciousness.
***
Smith looked out, groaning. "Our guards are down to four, and there's only two of them…."
"That's how it always goes, huh? Hope you like prison food," Sanders sighed.
Smith considered that, then frowned. "For this kind of job? We'll be
lucky if we don't get sent to the Zig itself."
"But the Zig's for super powered freaks!" Sanders blanched. The Ziggursky Federal Penitentiary hadn't earned its reputation for nothing.
"It's maximum security. Transporting an unwilling victim after kidnapping them? Crey'll wash their hands of us and we're stuck there for
sure."
"Damn it, we're fucked…." Sanders groaned, wringing his hands.
"Not just yet," Smith said, pulling out his PDA. "If I'm gonna get jailed, I figure I'm gonna try anything I have at hand to stay out of
there."
"Like wha-" Anders started to ask, before seeing what he was doing. "You maniac! What's to keep her from attacking us?!"
"Because we're a smaller threat than they are. And as is, our situation's hopeless anyway. This way, at least we can escape and Crey'll take
us back in to cover up the evidence trail."
"Or kill us," Anders pointed out glumly.
"They can do that in the Zig too. I prefer this plan. And on the off
chance she beats them, we get a promotion. I can shut her down."
Anders looked wary, then nodded, more out of desperation than anything.
"Do it."
Smith nodded, pressing the activation key as the program booted up.
Running...scorched_earth.exe…multiple targets detected….booting
up weapons…
***
Sylia barely had time to notice two techs jumping out of the truck before the
roof of it exploded outward in a blast of electricity, followed by an armored figure. Another bolt of electricity seared her retinas as it struck the cab,
setting the entire area ablaze as its gas tank went up. Blinded, Sylia missed the third bolt that slammed into her chest and knocked the wind out of her even
as her hardsuit registered an abrupt power loss. Rerouting power to make up for the lost battery life, Sylia jumped clear of the blaze, only to see a red
armored figure stride out of the fire.
"Nene?!"
Ifrit didn't hear her, only seeing an armored figure attacking her
teammate. Unfortunately, Nene noticed her as well, and the blast of flame that rippled out towards her didn't reach its target in time. Nene sprang forward
across terrain before getting right up next to her. Ifrit felt an odd pulling sensation as her flaming aura dimmed, and what little damage was present on the
red armor in front of her rapidly healed itself. Then she was dodging as the figure began throwing lightning at her. "What the hell?! Volt tanks can't
do that!" she yelled.
"It's not a Crey tank. It's one of my teammates," Sylia said
coldly through the comm. link. "They must have done something to her…"
Ifrit recalled through memories not her own similar statements from a variety
of sources involved in Crey investigations. Over the last week, Sylia'd reluctantly opened up about the women she intended to rescue, and Ifrit had begun
to get an idea for what could inspire such devotion against overwhelming odds. They were her family, as far as she felt and knew. Especially given what she
knew now about their origins and that her "brother" was probably living a dimension away with his real sister. As she dodged blast after blast of
lightning, she remembered the stories about a spritely young girl that was there for purely support reasons yet never shied from combat, trying to improve
herself despite her lack of actual talent compared to her teammates in such areas. A guileful prankster with a ready grin and infectious laugh. And all Ifrit
could see here was a killing machine controlled by Crey. And that made her angry. Which, unfortunately, meant that her flames heated to match her mood,
unconsciously.
There is a deep primal fear of fire that's ingrained in the hindbrain of
most humans and other species that live on planets with oxygen atmospheres that allow fire to burn. And, although marvels of technology, the 33-S buma series
replicates this innate human trait as well. So was it that the massive ball of flame shooting at Nene at high speed stalled her control programming for a brief
instant as she began processing the emotion of sheer panic. This slowed her reactions enough for it to hit directly, and the armor developed
by Crey, albeit more durable than that which inspired it, was still not equipped to absorb damage the likes of which Ifrit's fiery attack had inflicted on
it.
Damage estimates flickered across her HUD as Nene's control-locked mind
reeled at the burning sensations rolling up her arms and torso, the control programs flickering as the imperfect neural overrides dealt with more input than
they'd been designed to handle. Metal began to flow slightly like wax and sparks began to fly at random from the armored girl's gauntlets as the field
cohesion that kept them targetable lost control. But more noticeable to her opponents was the sheer scream of pain as the heat leaking
through the hardsuit's insulation(which, by pure luck, was able to resist melting as well) got through the constant input into Nene's cerebrum of
"kill all targets" as the hardware reinforcing it suffered technological heatstroke and shut down. Which left the young Sabre screaming in pain as
she made a beeline for a nearby fountain.
Sylia's eyes shot open in shock at the scream, and the situation parsed
out quickly to her mind….as well as the dangers of what would happen if Nene threw herself into the water with those electrical weapons damaged. Nowhere near
close enough, she activated her commlink. "Ifrit! She can't get into the water! The damage to her suit means those arcs of electricity could fry her
inside her own suit!"
Ifrit, already slightly horrified at her own loss of control, recognized the
appropriate threat and shot down like a bomb to intercept the girl. Not knowing any other way to make sure she wouldn't attack them afterwards, or even
attack Ifrit while she carried her away, Ifrit felt the arcane energies gathering around her fists. "Sorry, Nene," she said softly to herself before
slamming an energized fist square into the armored figure's face, sending her cartwheeling backwards several feet and stopping ingloriously next to a
dumpster.
Ifrit let the flames still licking about Nene's armor flow back into her
own aura as Sylia landed beside her, doing a series of checks that hinted at far more time being an impromptu medic than the woman's bearing and background
had ever suggested to Ifrit. A stream of excited energy rippled across her awareness as Sylia made a full spectrum sweep of the surrounding area for obvious
thermal sources and then worked the clasps of her teammate's helmet, pulling it off and revealing the girl's features. Ifrit didn't notice the
aspect of herself that most of MAGI would classify as "Fey" being….well….fey….and taking extra interest in the girl…Nene's….face, still blackened
from the smoke inside her suit, her hair frazzled by the heat but otherwise hanging limply around her face in the vibrant red shade that Sylia'd described.
Sylia, for her part, checked to make sure she was still breathing, before gently replacing her helmet and picking her up, her HUD already displaying the
closest hospital. "Let's go," she said. "I don't want to be around for their cleanup crews, and Ne….Net…here needs attention,
stat."
Following, Ifrit found herself turning over the stories Sylia had told her, having a face to put to the name now, as they made their way to the local
hospital.
***
"Hey, it's the firestarter that thought I'd make a good barbecue," a weak croak noted playfully from the bed.
Ifrit blinked as she walked in, looking at Nene who was now wearing a series
of bandages over her arms and showed signs of some under the hospital gown. She blushed slightly, looking down. "Uh, yeah….I'm still kinda…new to the
whole throwing fire thing. I didn't mean to hurt you that badly."
"Naw, it's okay," the young woman(the not entirely hiding as
much as it could have hospital gown made a point of showing Ifrit she couldn't think of her as a "girl" anymore) noted in return, sort of
nonchalantly waving her bandaged hand at Ifrit. "Shut the programs down by overheating the circuits. Though at least I can be aware of the fact that you
didn't fricassee me on purpose," she noted.
Sylia, leaning back against the wall to allow the two of them to talk, favored
a slight quirk of her mouth that could almost be a satisfied smile. For the first time since she'd arrived here, she'd accomplished something of
personal worth to herself. As the two girls hit it off and bonded thanks to Nene's own infectious personality, she allowed herself a slight smidgeon of
hope that, before long, all her girls would be back home. Linna…Priss… Schooling her features to motionlessness, Sylia let herself savor one of those memories,
not tainted anymore by the specter of Crey's security being as bad as GENOM's or worse when they had a "pet project" that needed to
"disappear". She also suppressed a slight laugh at the memory of Nene using a small catapult to fling mistletoe at the two of them one Christmas,
this one more brought to air by watching Nene act as she always had, even bandaged and lying in a hospital bed. That image, and that tiny piece of hope, left
Sylia feeling content and more relaxed than she had been in weeks.
It was only a half an hour later when the two girls finally got around to
trying to include Sylia in their conversations that Nene and Ifrit noticed the leader of the Knight Sabres had drifted off to sleep leaning against the wall, a
soft smile on her face.
***
Author's Afterword:
Egads, I finally finished this. When was the last post in this? JUNE? It's nearly
mid-October now. Gnrgh. At least you can expect the remaining two(possibly three) parts of this to happen relatively more quickly. I have no idea what stalled
this one, but it's done! *does happy dance*. Amusingly, there's several bits of continuity in this that
didn't exist at the time of the original story, so I guess good news/bad news, no?
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."