The soul can be brighter
than the sun.
Or it can be the darkness
waiting at the depths of
the abyss.
Entrance - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
He was coming to dread the snow. And as he came down off of the T'zaht's loading ramp into the crisp white tundra, he drew at reluctant breath and loosened the collar of his grey pullover taking a sweep of the ground, while he tapped the TAC-link earpiece.
"Come in Chuck," he watched the horizon, where a silvery-blue moon began it's rapid rise over the small planetoid, wishing that he didn't have to be there, but knowing there was no choice.
"Confirmed Paladin, this is the T'zaht, we're prepping for aerial support role," Chuck sounded dutiful as ever, as the T'zaht's VTOL engines hummed in preparation for Katz to get clear.
Katz nodded as he jogged away from the T'zaht's makeshift landing platform at the base of the mining facilities primary muster point. His hands dropping to the pair of PKD's he had strapped on for the mission. Keeping it light and fast, he was hoping to get in and get out before the Muwani knew what was happening. If they failed, he had a trio of grenades at the ready to break up any heavy resistance.
He slipped towards the great inter-locking doors, as the T'zaht blasted skywards, returning to the dark cloud cover that heralded yet another snow-storm that would coat the near frigid world they'd dubbed somewhat appropriately, Siberious.
There was no initial sign of that the Muwani had noticed the arrival of the Imperial frigate, or her Captain. But, then, they were probably bunkered down somewhere, ready to spring an ambush upon him, knowing that the T'zaht only had four crew members, and that any strike team Katz could muster would be small at best.
The doors offered no resistance at all, sliding obediently open as he approached them, a burst of warm air flooding out of the environmentally sealed mining outpost, warming his face as he slid his PKD's from their holsters and entered cautiously.
"I'm not Darien Bloody Taine," he murmured to himself nervously reminding himself that his luck was no where near as uncanny as the Imperial Warlord's. He was certain that he'd come face to face with some Siberian Razor beast, uttering a blood curdling shriek as it rendered him limb from limb.
He was unprepared for the silence.
The facility appeared abandoned, except for the life-support that was providing him with warmth… there had to be someone around. His intelligence had come directly from tracking the Muwani ship, a long shot, he knew, but he had to run the risk that he was being led into a trap.
Emerging from what appeared to be an overturned barracks, he passed a set of arched windows that overlooked the ice fields stretching the length of a massive canyon, where the biggest vehicle he had ever seem was crawling with Muwani workerbots.
"Of all the Farkin' luck!" he muttered, realizing he would have to find a way down there, and out into the open, crossing an ice field literally swarming with workerbots. Plasma welders, and cutting saws… armour and a ruthless mechanical mind with only one key directive, kill the curious Katz.
He deliberately killed that line of thinking, dropping to a knee as he slid his PKD's back into their holsters, pulling his small field glasses out of his backpack. He swept the canyon floor, zooming in on various targets. Looking at the protective disruptor mounts covering the 'land-train' before him. It was going to be a tricky feat to even get close to it, let alone try to board it.
It was really a collection of oversized trucks, with broad snow-wheels, slave rigged to drive in a precise formation by remote. Reinforced hatches, and sealed armour plates, even if he called the T'zaht down to strafe the thing, it would take concentrated cannon fire to do any kind of damage, and that, of course, would probably kill Galadriel and Kyr.
His binoculars swept down, to train upon the trio of figures, being prodded forward by the worker bots. Kyr wrapped up in his heavy winter coat, walking in time beside Galadriel, swaddled in furs to keep out the cold. Rikard, the last of the trio, stared rigidly ahead of him, as a workerbot scuttled along behind him, holding a round ring of crystal, staying just out of Rikard's reach. No doubt it was the control device that the Muwani had used to contain the semi-transcendent.
They were being loaded aboard one of the land-train vehicles. But from his angle, Katz couldn't tell which of them that was.
A tell-tale scuttling had the young captain rolling out of the way as a snap-hiss of a plasma welder ignited, crackling as it bathed the area where he had just been crouching in scorching hot plasma. He cursed as he grabbed for his PKD's rolling up to a knee and emptying a pair of shots into the workerbot. The Kinetic impacts smashed its armour and compacted its metal cranium, causing the device to collapse into a ball of twitching limbs.
He stood, staring at the ruined field glasses, fused to the metal walkway by the plasma shot, thankful it hadn't been him. Noting that the bot-controllers had to be aware that they had just lost one of their workers, and any moment…
The alert siren began to wail through the facility.
"Great," Katz murmured as he began to sprint down the way the bot had come. "I'm a pilot, not a Farkin' Commando."
Descending the stairs two at a time, he kept his PKD's up, blasting workerbots whenever he saw them, knowing that there was only so long that his weapon's charges would hold up. He had hoped to avoid a fire-fight so early, infiltration was supposed to be clandestine. He hadn't bargained for a full on assault, if he had he'd have brought a pulse-carbine, or a couple of SMGs.
He didn't have time for regrets, vaulting the last railing and rolling into the lower hanger, the massive shield doors standing open, showing him the land-train ahead of him, already powering up and beginning to roll-out. He was going to be too late…
The clanking of a workerbot, hauling itself out of an impossibly tight spot, caused Katz to drop and spin, firing a pair of shots, blasting the mechanical death-machine off of its spindly legs, shattering its exo-skeleton as it sparked and collapsed to the ground shuddering in its death throes.
"Paladin, this is T'zaht, we're detecting large movement in front of you, advise? Over."
Katz glanced around him, looking for anything that would help him catch up to the great rolling juggernaught moving out ahead of him. His eyes narrowed as he watched a group of bots mounting small skimmers, the one-seater high-velocity vehicle was little more than aerodynes, and a seat attached to a star-ship ion engine. It looked wholly unpleasant, and probably a one-way ticket to certain death…
Uttering a low curse about the things he had to do since Darien had made him a ship's captain, he ran for one of the contraptions, shooting the pilot mech from its seat as he holstered his weapons and leaped aboard, taking a second to familiarize himself with the controls, as plasma shots hissed about him. Satisfied that he could fly it, and regretting the fact that there wasn't a helmet, he hit the throttle and blew off of the ground fairly certain he was kissing his own ass good bye in the process.
Truck 4 - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
Rikard stood imperiously facing his mechanical captor, his hands clasped at the small of his back as he stared up at the machine with abject hate.
"I will take great pleasure in reducing you to your component parts, nê?" he murmured as it bobbed and hovered beyond his reach, tempting him to try and strike out at it.
He hated the feeling of powerlessness that the modified Ophanim device caused him. It exposed a raw weakness, one that he would strive to correct in himself in the future. His GN-01 body was never designed to handle the full effects of Bloodroot, the substance had been unheard of when his generation had been built, it had taken long years of work to allow him even a limited affinity with the deadly substance. Careful to avoid an overdose that would catapult him over the edge of transcendence and burn him out like a firecracker. But that didn't stop him from wishing he had taken just another dose, perhaps it would have been enough for him to break the unseen bonds that cocooned him and disrupted his ability to concentrate long enough on his own abilities.
A faint noise caused his ears to perk up. Plasma weapons fire…
Who, in all the galaxy, could possibly know where the prisoner exchange was to occur? China and his rust-bucket ship were light-years away. Could the Gorean's have reneged upon their bargain, and chosen a pre-emptive strike to wipe out the Muwani resistance? But even that seemed like a remote possibility, the Muwani had said the Gorean were arriving in the system, and it would take them hours to make planet fall.
He walked across the bay, towards the metal doors to his container, resting the flat of his palm against the ice cold metal, feeling the shock of vibrations. There was no doubt, the truck was returning fire on something, and the stattaco rhythm of the shots indicated that the target was highly mobile and moving fast.
"I think your master's are in a spot of trouble, nê" he asked his tormentor, as he looked back up at it.
The machine mutely bobbed in the air, oblivious to the meaning of his prisoner's words.
Tundra Canyon - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
Leaning down along the fuel tank, keeping his gloved hands on the handlebar controls of the aero-dyne bike, he shifted, using the momentum to carry him closer to the speeding land train ahead of him, dodging the shots fired out at him from the vehicles weapons turrets. Plasma was ineffective at long ranges, and it was rendered almost totally useless by the chill arctic weather of the planetoid. A reason, no doubt, that the Muwani had chosen the world, knowing that it would do the same to the Gorean weaponry. Brining an almost level playing field for their bots to counter the lesser Gorean threat.
He curved up, pulling a barrel roll as one of the other bikes dropped back along side him, the pilot mech using its plasma arm to try and blast the errant rogue pilot from his seat. Katz, gritted his teeth as he careened his bike to the right, sideswiping the other bike, knocking it into a tight spin as he fought to regain control of his own bike.
Flying a single ion engine wasn't easy, dodging heavy weapon emplacements on AA mode was perhaps even harder. The last thing that Katz needed was idiot mech pilots making his life even harder… or shorter if they had their way.
He grappled with one of his PKD's, pulling the weapon free in time to blast another mech pilot that was angling for a firing solution on him. Shivering despite himself, the whipping cold wind chilling him to the bone, making thinking increasingly difficult…
Options were fast diminishing for the fighter pilot, if the mech's didn't get him, then the elements would surely kill him.
His bike jerked beneath him, as he lost his grip on his PKD, the weapon spiralling into the snow behind him, as one of the Mechs took a swipe at him with its cutting arm, the weapon smashing into his bike's controls causing them to shudder and spark as the aero-dyne cut into a steep climb. The Mech, trapped by its cutting arm wedged into the controls, flailed out wildly with its other arms.
Katz grabbed onto the arms, pushing himself away from his stricken aero-dyne as he pushed the mech around with him, forcing it from its seat with a heavy kick, freeing the second aero-dyne that suddenly plunged earthwards as he scrambled for the controls.
Behind him, his bike and the flailing mech stalled out, slamming into the canyon wall explosively.
Truck 3 - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
In the truck ahead of Rikard's prison, Galadriel was gripping onto webbing, riding the motion of the great vehicle as it bounded its course across the tundra for its rendezvous with the great Gorean Lord. She felt the impact, the machine bucking beneath her feet as she grabbed a bar to stabilize herself as she fought back to her feet.
She'd shed her fur coat, preferring her simple woollen skirts and plain blouse in the carefully maintained warmth of the container. A pair of Muwani were a little forward, bobbing and pointing nervously at a portable display screen, showing a fast moving object whipping through their convoy, being shadowed by a much larger, high speed vessel in the stratosphere.
"The T'zaht is manoeuvring to beat us to the rendezvous," one of the Muwani stated. "He is persistent despite our best efforts…"
Her heart leapt, Katz was still alive, alive and had somehow managed to follow them to that snow blasted rock. She wrestled her way forward, as the pair of bots powered to life, lifting their plasma disruptors and zeroing them in on her, indicating that she was to approach no closer to their masters.
"You should give us to him," she called. "You don't know Captain Katz, he's pissed off and that is an Imperial Frigate…"
"You should be silent," the Muwani leader turned back to stare at her. "The Frigate means nothing, there is a Gorean Destroyer in orbit, and that will make short work out of such a crippled vessel… As for your Captain, he is a maniac, and they often meet rapid deaths, he is already far too close to death as it is."
Galadriel moved back a step, licking her lips and looking across the bay towards the green shaft of crystal, secured in its glass case. It was the only weapon she could see beyond the disruptors in the Muwani holsters. If she could somehow get to it, maybe she could use it like a bat.
Slowly and surely she began to edge back around the bay, sure to keep an eye on the pair of Mechs that were watching her, oblivious to her intentions.
Tundra Canyon - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
Katz booted it on full throttle, down low to the deck as he careened through low snow banks, pulling up at the last moment as he threw himself off of the bike, smashing with full force onto the top of the rear-most truck, sliding backwards as he struggled with frozen hands to find purchase and pull himself upright before he slid off of the back.
His bike arched downwards, slamming into one of the trucks ahead, erupting into a fireball as it blew up.
Clawing his way, hand over hand; he pulled his way to his feet using the truck's control antenna to steady himself as he yanked his remaining PKD free in time to shoot one of the workerbots that stuck its head out of an open hatch to investigate whether the human had survived.
Katz stepped to the edge of the hatch, pulling the pin on one of his grenades, knowing that his companions were in trucks further ahead. He smiled coldly as he dropped the weapon inside the container, plugging his ears against the thudding boom and erupting gout of flame that shot out of the hatch.
Dropping down, inside a moment later saw him finishing off the last mech with a well placed shot, stepping over the carnage of a workerbot platoon, pulling open the access panel to the truck and hammering in commands directly to the computer, tearing out the control wire for the slave unit.
The truck surged ahead, accelerating as Katz fought his way back out, on top of the giant machine. Crouching down, holding the antenna again for support as the distance between his truck and the next rapidly diminished due to the spurt of acceleration.
The turrets of the truck ahead, sensing there was something wrong with the truck following, began to open up, hammering shots into the forward armour, vaporising armour plating and tossing up molten slag as they hammered shot after shot into it to no avail.
Rapidly closing the distance, the heavy truck slammed into the rear section of the truck ahead, throwing Katz forward and sending his last PKD skipping from his hand. He dived for it, sliding down the upper plates as the gun bounced its way down between the two trucks. Cursing his luck, he had little choice but to make the jump to the next truck unarmed.
Crashing to the metal, he scrambled up as the truck he had been on veered away, bouncing through the snow to grind along the canyon wall out of control.
Truck 4 - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
The explosion had hurled him to the floor, and the welt of pain that arced trough him was a rare reminder of how vulnerable he was with an Ophanim ring around. And he wiped the blood away from his mouth as he soldiered to his feet again. Staring in wonder at the gaping hole the thrusters bike had ripped into his container.
His hand reached out to curl around a long piece of metal piping, hefting it to his shoulder as he glanced back at his mechanical nemesis with a deepening smile. "Ek sê!" he called, swinging the bat and connecting solidly with the device, sending it sailing through the hole and out into the canyon, crashing into the snow, feeling a rush as the part of himself the device had rendered inert came flooding back.
Anger stirred inside of him, as he raised his hand, feeling a thrill as the electrical charge snaked and arced its way up his arm.
Truck 6 - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
Katz stared up at the workerbot that had him covered with its plasma disruptor, a Muwani climbing up through the hatch, drawing his own weapon as he came to inspect the prisoner that had caused them so much hassle.
The Muwani touched his radio, calling in as he approached Katz with an arrogant swagger in this short strides, one of the aero-dynes curving about to offer additional firepower as they took no chances with their prisoner.
Putting his hands up, Katz stood slowly, taking a deep breath in anticipation of the execution order that the Muwani leader would undoubtedly issue the moment he realized the attack was over.
None of them were prepared for the truck ahead of them suddenly exploding into a massive fireball. Katz ducked, shielding his eyes as one of the flaming wheels bounced back, crashing into the roof of the trailing truck, crushing the workerbot before it banged off into the snows, causing the aero-dyne to swing about trying to regain control as their truck crashed through the wreckage of Truck 5.
Katz surged forward, knocking the Muwani off guard, grappling with the disruptor, as the two fought. The sheer size and strength of the human giving him a keen advantage over the much smaller Muwani, and Katz managed to pull the disruptor free and discharge a close range shot disintegrating the Muwani with a scream of errant energies.
He peered through the smoke, looking at the black clad figure standing on the truck ahead of him, returning his gaze. Rikard lifting his hand as a charge of lightening erupted and arced through the aero-dyne short circuiting the machine and sending it slamming into the ground with an eruption of snow and ice.
Rikard's tunic rippled as he turned his attention back upon the truck ahead of him, and Katz watched in awe as the man sailed through the air in a precise jump that landed him squarely atop truck 3. He was about to make his own move, when a round metallic object blew past him, heading at full speed towards the truck where Rikard had just jumped. The ring device…
Katz tried to sight in, firing off a green blast of plasma, but the range was too great for the limited weapon, it ineffectually splattered against the canyon wall well wide of the device and the demi-god.
He smiled in relief as the T'zaht shot low over the ridge of the canyon, turning on its axis to touch down in the middle of the rendezvous zone, Killborne's marines already spilling out to set up the lethal sentry guns to cover their escape.
Truck 3 - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
A glance ahead of Rikard wasn't inspiring; the lead truck was emerging from the far end of the canyon and onto the ice field, where the Imperial Frigate was already sitting, the massive shape of the Gorean destroyer just visible streaking through the cloud cover like a menacing shadow of death.
Rikard stretched out, increasing the pressure inside the hatch mechanism, causing it to burst, the whole rear boarding ramp of the truck crashing to the snow as it bounded behind the truck, now open to the elements. He stepped off the edge, dropping to the ramp, and walking upwards as the pair of workerbots opened fire on him. The shots washing over him as he absorbed their energies, channelling it back at them as he cooked them both off.
He was an angel of death, the air crackled around him as he lashed out with the very air that the Muwani breathed, charring them from the inside out as he superheated it, cooking them alive.
It was a horrendous death, and yet Rikard continued onwards, marching with cold oblivion to those that came after him. Relenting to every dark impulse in his soul as he punished the Muwani for their betrayal.
The irony wasn't lost upon him, that he was their executioner. His betrayal had toppled the Empire, slain the Immortal Emperor and shadowed the galaxy in three centuries of darkness. And yet what the Muwani had done angered him.
Betrayal was human nature, it was expected. But the Muwani were honourable people, they bound themselves by an ancient code passed to them in a time immemorial. To betray, for them, was against the very soul of who and what they were. It was an abandoning of what they stood for, and it disgusted Rikard.
He tore through their ranks, fuelling his hatred with every ounce of his own guilt, pouring it into his fury as he summoned the full depth of his powers, brining it to bear on something that he could kill, and kill indiscriminately. The Muwani, as a species were dead to him, and so it came to pass, he executed them all.
The sizzling of the last Muwani at his feet, made him stop, focusing down at the clouded eyes, the face twisted into an eternal scream as the skin cracked and burned, the body turning to ash as the others had done. A silence falling over the truck, as around him, he listened to the ragged breathing of Galadriel who was facing him, standing on the far side of a flickering force-field.
"It is finished," Rikard said, turning back to her.
The ashen faced woman, clutching a shard of glinting green crystal stared back at the angel of vengeance, "what did you do?"
"It was their time to die," Rikard responded. Motioning to the open aft ramp of the truck, back towards the truck that Katz was riding closing the distance towards them. "I was merely the sword upon which they committed suicide. We have to leave before the Gorean can capture us, nê?"
"I can't," Galadriel said reaching out her hand to brush the force-field that separated her from him.
Rikard shook his head, reaching out his own hand, frowning when nothing happened. His head snapping around as he stared at the damnable device that had plagued him since their capture at the space station. "I thought I destroyed you!" he snapped irritably.
"You have to go," Galadriel urged, looking towards where the portable monitor was demonstrating the proximity of the Gorean forces dropping from the clouds, rapidly surrounding the trucks as they rolled up towards the landed, and helpless T'zaht.
"No!" Rikard snapped angrily. "I will not be beaten like this…" He knelt down at an access panel, flipping it open and staring at the inner workings of the device. "I have an intelligence of over…"
"You have no time," Galadriel warned, her voice dropping. "Enarbrem…"
"No!" he bellowed, looking up at her, his eyes suddenly wild with fury. "No! I am not just going to leave you here!"
"You have to go!" she begged him, reaching out again to rest a hand on the barrier.
"No, no, no!" he pounded his fist upon the invisible wall, throwing his full weight into the blow even though he knew it was futile. They both heard the audible whine of the truck coming to a halt, and the decidedly ominous sound of Gorean feet marching in time to surround them.
Desperation caused him to hurl the access panel at the ring device, the machine bobbing evasively as it weaved about, beeping as it trilled triumphantly.
Rikard's teeth bared, menacingly as he drew everything he had, trying to punch through the barrier, knowing that he was helpless, and that any effort he could muster would be met with an equal resistance. But he was compelled to try, sweat rolling down his brow as he strove to find a weakness, any weakness in the prison that surrounded him.
"You have to stop," she implored. "It's too late…"
Lessar Gorean foot soldiers leapt up the ramp, advancing slowly as their vicious jaws snapped, their tongues tasting the metallic tang in the air from the incinerated Muwani.
Rikard looked her deeply in the eyes, "I can do this, when I do you have to run. Am I clear?"
She sensed something in his tone, watching the Gorean as they approached, Rikard dropping to his knee, his hands working quickly as he fumbled through the wires, pulling at the cables, trying to find the right one, as a bead of sweat began to trickle its way down from his brow.
He found the one he wanted, wrenching on it to pull it free he drove it into the foot of the lead Gorean, shielding his eyes as it burst with an arc of electricity. The shield energies were suddenly channelled away from the emitters and through the Gorean, who squealed like a pig thrust hind first into a blast furnace.
The forcefield collapsed, as Rikard grabbed her arm, propelling her towards the ramp. "Run!" he commanded, stepping between her and the second Gorean soldier, drawing every ounce of menace into his countenance, knowing that with the ring device he was powerless and vulnerable.
She stumbled on the ramp, turning her eyes back upon him, clutching the crystal shard in her hands as she ran, sprinting over the tundra.
Behind her, Rikard squared his shoulders as the Gorean knocked him aside like a rag doll, crashing into the side of the truck with a powerful crunch.
Hold - HMS T'zaht - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
Galadriel sprinted past the perimeter of Marines and up the ramp of the T'zaht. She drew to a halt in front of the Propylon computer, studying the controls as she inputted selected co-ordinates. Listening to the Lessar Gorean's screaming orders as they surrounded the vessel.
Rikard was livid, she could sense it.
She didn't have much time, not with the Gorean destroyer bearing down on them as fast as it could.
Petty Officer Wheeler was crouched by the ramp, an Imperial pulse rifle in his hands as he tried to get a clear view of Sergeant Killborne's marines that were taking up defensive positions around the hangar bay doors to keep the Gorean guards from cutting off Captain Katz's only escape route.
"Go give them a hand," Galadriel ordered as she swept around the console to check a power reading, nodding in satisfaction as it registered optimal power.
Wheeler blinked, his young eyes big and round as he looked at the Lieutenant in surprise. "Me?"
"Go Petty Officer, we don't have time, and the Sarge can use all the help she can get." She pointed down the ramp, a look on her face that said she would broker no more of Wheeler's questions.
The young crewman swallowed timidly as he stood, shaking visibly, walking down the ramp and crossing to where he could take up a covering position, wiping the sweat from his brow as he re-seated his ball cap.
Galadriel ignored him, biting her lip as she rechecked the Port key system. Rikard had been expectantly brilliant in converting the Gorean device into a functional spatial transporter, however he hadn't designed the system to accomplish the goal that she required. Why should he have done? All the T'zaht had needed was to far-step back to the known space.
That left her with a difficult quandary, where was she going to get a fully operational set of Propylons?
There was an explosion of gunfire from outside, as the Gorean made to attack the Imperial Marines. Killborne was a consummate professional, and her men were trained for holding actions and this far from the frontier, it was unlikely that the Gorean troopers were veteran soldiers. They wouldn't succeed in taking the T'zaht, and that, at least, that bought Galadriel some more time to think of a way out.
Truck 6 - Muwani Outpost - Gorean Territory
~~*~~
Surrounded, the T'zaht had a squadron of Gorean fliers dropping down upon it, as the massive Destroyer emerged from the clouds virtually on top of the Frigate. Massive plasma cannons sitting at point blank range on the waiting Frigate that was so tantalizingly close, that all Katz had to do was make a run for it.
"Fire up the Propylon drive," Katz called crossing to the front end of the truck and looking up towards Galadriel who was standing at the control computer.
She smiled down at him approaching, "I've already done so, the computer is calibrated… however…"
The underside CIWS spun on its pivot mount, the barrel of the auto-maser settling to train upon Katz's chest.
"… there has been a slight change in our escape plan."
Katz frowned up at the gun, looking back towards the cargo hold, and to where Galadriel stood staring down at him, a hard look upon her face.
"What's going on?" He asked cautiously.
"Ag, sies man, she's betraying you," Rikard said, sounding impressed as he was hauled from the far truck by one of the Gorean troopers. "and unlike these," he nudged the pile of Muwani dust before him with the toe of his shoe, "she is being true to her nature."
Katz looked over at the Chancellor, "You?"
Rikard shook his head, "as much as I would love to take the credit for this amazing turn of events, I must admit to being taken quite by surprise, and believe me for a man who has lived as long as I have, to be surprised is a rare treat."
"And the surprises will continue, for you Rikard," Galadriel responded drawing her hand from behind her back as she spun the Peligian Crystal Baton through her fingers. "I told you this wasn't over."
"Z'ræl," Rikard said between his clenched teeth, reaching out telekinetically to grasp the last Peligian, again frustrated by the rings.
She bowed her head at him, smiling her beautiful smile. "I have an appointment on a dead world…" as the ramp began to close her hand tripped the Propylon controls. "And you have an appointment with the ravenous horde, enjoy dinner."
The T'zaht flared, flashing out of existence as the Propylons whisked the ship away in a rush.
Katz swore as he stared down the multiple barrels of plasma cannons, as a wing of Gorean fliers dropped to the top of the truck, surrounding him.
He was led down to the ground, stripped of his Muwani disruptor and his remaining grenades by the Gorean who ushered him towards the rest of the T'zaht marines and Wheeler. Doctor Kyr being brought from the lead Muwani truck, his eyes tense as he glanced at Katz for reassurance.
"Destiny is the oldest word;" Rikard said calmly as his captor released him and tossed him into the ring of humans surrounding the area where the T'zaht had been just moments before. "In the beginning it was written by the hand of a god. We oft like to think that destiny is ours to craft, however I have come to learn that such is not the case. Vasbyt, China, this kak will soon be over."
Beyond, a loud clanking resounded as the Gorean drop ship's hatches slid open and unfurled. Rikard flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles. "Any one for roast lizard? I hear it tastes like chicken…"