Guild Wars III Roleplay (Rated T)

[Celestial]

((Mage Manor))

Omni went out to heal the injured, along with a good deal of those who were in the foyer. The Sue seems to have worked out who she was, judging by her expression. Although she could have bee subtler with that statement.

She followed them outside,watching the operations take place and listen to the Sue's exposition monologue. Well, it was certainly helpful and would perhaps convince them to fight Spacefleet.

The other messenger was here too, speaking with the rest of the mages. Celestial pretended to fall and touched the ground with one hand, allowing a piece of the Underdeep to slither down and reach out to him. To anybody it would just look like she tripped.

We need to discuss how we're going to take them down. Meet me in the library as soon as possible. Try and bring the Sue with you she whispered to him through the Underdeep. She picked herself up and resumed listening in.

But there always was a spanner in the works.

"You're wrong. I don't know about the Fleet, but the Pirates would never do that. Hunty and Rider are my friends, and as long as I'm here, they'd never let that happen. I know you have nothing but the best of intentions, and you're by far the most qualified here to save everyone from the Underdeep, but I'd die before I let you turn my friends against each other. Now, if you'd like to give us some actual useful information about the Underdeep, feel free to go right ahead and explain. Otherwise, I'm going to do everything possible to keep you from leading an attack on my friends." Ikkin spoke out against the Sue. Celestial sighed.

"Then how do you explain them being around the 'Fleeter at the time of the attack and when he implimented his plan. I think they discussed it beforehand, at least coming to some sort of agreement. And he was fighting with them," the dragon mage said with great assurance, "Perhaps you don't know your friends as well as you thought. In war, friendships are fickle things."


((Once a Dropship))

A sitcom? The Author almost slapped herself for not thinking of that. Of course, it would take some effort and writing worthy of a classic film to pull off but maybe, just maybe it would be awesome. Anyway, back to the plot.

The coati picked up the memory chip containing her, as well as the speakers and all assorted bits of equipment she needed to stay connected to the outside world. Together (well, the coati named Nasue if her post is anything to go by did the work) they got out of the dropship. Nasue put the Author down and wondered quizzically why she was asked to rescue the equipment. And yes, the Author looked at her post and found this out.

"First of all, I don't think 'themself' is correct grammatically but what do I know?" The Author quipped, "Secondly, everything that can be called 'me' is in that memory that is connected to the speaker. Pleased to meet you, I'm The Author, an AI program,"

"I would shake your hand but I'm a bit challenged in that respect."

[Huntress]

((Fleet HQ))

"But miss, you can't possibly be thinking of leaving the base right now!"

"Watch me."

The customs officer was getting more nervous by the minute. He didn't have time for this, he had more people coming in every single minute, and now this crazy chick was moving against the torrential flow of people all of a sudden, asking for her confiscated belongings back. Not to mention the belongings she was asking for were flat-out scary.

"There isn't any actual shuttle connection with the planet," he nevertheless said. "We're only bringing in refugees right now."

Hunty, drumming her fingers on the counter, let out an exasperated sigh.

"Look, my good man," she said, "this is exactly why private flights for diplomats were invented. I'm the leader of the Pirates' guild, I'm scheduled to be planetside in ten minutes tops and if you feel like wasting time for both of us and all these nice people waiting in line and contacting your Commander to double-check this, be my guest."

"If this is a diplomatic flight, you'll need paperwork-" the officer began. Hunty rubbed her forehead and asked with strained patience if the guy had by any chance noticed the worldwide demonic breakout and martial law currently going on all over the place. And with that, they were once again back in the shipbay area.

The weight of the killer-crossbow would make her back ache in half an hour at most, but with any luck she'd have it off by then. She slung the Sue-sword to her belt, smiled and turned to look at the long row of docks filled with people.

"Well. Now what?"

"Military docks are thataway," Bloody Mary said, sinking off her shoulder. "Just keep moving, I see a weasel there I think has good news for us."

A short while later the pirates entered a dock in the farther end of the harbor. Compared to the clutter of the rest of the HQ, it was fairly empty. Which meant that there was a row of battleships of various sizes and levels of shininess. There were three guards milling about, all of which looked up in confusion when they heard footsteps.

"As you were," Hunty said absently, striding on, and all of a sudden found three plasma rifles pointed at her. Well, so much of that plan. She hadn't had high hopes but it always pays to try the simplest idea first.

She looked at the rifles and found that one of them was shaking slightly, with the tip of the rifle moving from side to side as if unsure whether to take aim or not. Well, this was useful. She smiled brightly at the owner of the rifle.

"Don't I know you?" she asked.

"Um," said the rifle's owner, whom Hunty in fact didn't remember ever seeing before. Not that it mattered. The guy obviously knew who she was. The other two guards looked at him in confusion.

"Sweet dreams," Bloody Mary said.

The three guards looked even more confused, then collapsed as if on cue.

"Have you by any chance learned magic?" Hunty asked with an equally confused scowl.

"No," the meepit said smugly, "but I've learned to delegate. Come on, everyone knows how to deal with guards. Walk in, distract them, act tough just long enough that they won't shoot you full of holes and give time for some of your friends to sneak up and pinch 'em onna neck. Now where's that ship you were talking about?"

As three dark blue meepits trotted away from the three fallen guards, a number of weasels led the way to a distant corner of the dock, to a ship that...

...was shiny. Very shiny. It was also sleek and curvy and with quite a few impressive cannons, but that was only background noise for all the shininess. It looked like it'd recently gotten a fresh coat of chrome and could've given TMC's bike a run for its money. Hunty stared at it.

"So we're going to fly out in a huge disco ball, is that it?" she asked grimly.

"This," said a voice from the carpet of meepits around Hunty's feet, "is a class 6A warship. Designed with the best balance between maneuverability and firepower in mind." There was just a hint of a sigh. "It's beautiful."

"Yesh," said the captain, whose interest in machinery usually topped at gunpowder cannons. "If you say so. How do we get in?"

Lurking around the ship brought them to a door that was, thankfully, ground level. But as Hunty opened it, a metallic voice chirped, "Authorization, please."

Well, crap.

***

((Zagora's lil place))

Zagora navigated her way to something that looked like - and in fact was - a stuffed camel hump. She sat down, produced a piece of paper and a small pencil from the pile of merchandise next to her and looked up at Fraze, eyes gleaming in the sooty circles of eyeliner pencil.

"You speak of destinee," she said. "I have seen destinee. It is maybe an hour long, did you knov zat? Anyzheenk after an hour is uncertain. Zer is no destinee but ze wun you make yourself." She smiled. "As far as I can see, ze vorld is doomed. But after zat - who knows?"

"Would you consider two hundred thousand apiece with a ride off this planet? I could arrange a shuttle to take you pretty much anywhere within five hundred light-years of here. You'd probably have a bit of trouble running a business in a postapocalyptic world, so relocating might be a good business move."

Zagora scribbled something down on the paper she was holding and tilted her head to look at the numbers. She grinned.

"No," she said. "Voodoo is earzhbound. In anozher vorld, I vould have to start from scratch. Zey vould have different balances of powa, different animals of powa, different everyzheenk. But." She pulled out a book from a nearby shelf, flicked through it, then got up and shoved it under Fraze's nose. On a brown-yellow page, there was a crude ink sketch of a tree, the kind one might see in a children's third grade biology book.

"Ze reeson vhy my prices are so high," she said, "are ze logistics. Ze Underdeep amulets are made of zis tree and it's shipped in from anozher continent in small illegal amounts. But if your ship can fly to ze stars, it can fly to zat continent. Get me one of zose trees... after it's no longer stone, of course... and you'll drive ze cost price all ze way down to fifty zhinees a piece."

[Zylaa]

((Mage Manor))

"You're wrong," a kitsune said softly. "I don't know about the Fleet, but the Pirates would never do that. Hunty and Rider are my friends, and as long as I'm here, they'd never let that happen. I know you have nothing but the best of intentions, and you're by far the most qualified here to save everyone from the Underdeep, but I'd die before I let you turn my friends against each other."

"Now, if you'd like to give us some actual useful information about the Underdeep, feel free to go right ahead and explain. Otherwise, I'm going to do everything possible to keep you from leading an attack on my friends."

Kassandra hadn't counted on The Power of Friendship. As an opposing force, it was only slightly less powerful than what she would only refer to as Twu Wuv. Hopefully she wouldn't have to come up against that. As it was, however, she could see how much it pained the kitsune to speak up.

"Then how do you explain them being around the 'Fleeter at the time of the attack and when he implimented his plan. I think they discussed it beforehand, at least coming to some sort of agreement. And he was fighting with them," the dragon mage said with great assurance, "Perhaps you don't know your friends as well as you thought. In war, friendships are fickle things."

Kassandra shook her head in sorrow at the Underdeep-controlled mage's words, inwardly hoping that the rash words, spoken by someone without any control of the story, wouldn't upset the fine balance she was walking.

"I'm sorry," she said to the kitsune, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know how hard this must be for you to hear," she added, and her voice spoke volumes about the pangs of betrayal wounding an innocent soul. "Desperation can drive people to do awful things."

"As far as the Underdeep goes... Well, to get fuel from the Underdeep, you have to pull some of it out. But you can't keep it contained, not once you start messing with the seals. Everyone's feared an all-powerful, scheming villain ever since Leraye, and that's what it gave us as soon as it escaped." She hoped that was specific enough information to calm the kitsune. And she hoped it was a bit of a jab at the Underdeep that she told part of the truth. She didn't want the Underdeep's clumsy grasping for fear to destroy the story she could work so well.

((Ninja HQ))
The General stared at the fire as it blazed up momentarily. Preeeetty. Flames weren't allowed on the Weewoo, for obvious reasons, and this was something new.

"Tasty," she said, "Weasels just don't pop into places. And you smell funny. Maybe you don't know what I'm saying, in which case I get to eat you, but if you do, you help and I don't eat you. The ninjas have a stock of gunpowder and sake, both flammable. You make a line of it. Thick line. When ooze gets close, set line on fire. Keep ooze back... long enough..."

"I understand!" he squeaked. "No eating! I help!" He paused, scanned the dojo, and when no obvious answer presented itself, asked, "Where powder and sake?"

((Spacefleet))
Zylaa was proud of her weasels. They'd managed to find the universe's deadliest disco ball.

Of course, the metallic voice asking for authorization wasn't exactly helpful.

"What kind of authorization?" she wondered aloud.

"Authorization, please," repeated the robotic voice.

"Vocal?"

"Authorization, please."

"You know, if we hadn't knocked out those guards, we could have asked them." Zylaa looked down at their bodies, flicked her spoon, and a few dozen weasels showed up. "Get those guards out of sight," she said, before scanning the room and spotting the nearest dock official. She strode over to him.

"Excuse me, sir!" she said, trying to look polite but impatient. "We're on an urgent mission here, and the men who run this dock must have forgotten to authorize the ship for our use."

"This dock is off limits to civilians," said the man, still trying to process the sight of the small pirate crew he saw loitering by the high-tech ship.

"Yes, but we're not civilians, see," Zylaa said. "We're dignitaries from a guild, and as such are carrying out an urgent mission to save our planet. We need this ship before everything down there turns to stone. I'm sure your boys are doing fine work helping the refugees, I don't blame them, but I'd like it if you could help us out."

[Kiddo]

Kiddo glanced around for a moment, before finally pointed one long and clawed finger at a hallway.

"Storeroom that way! Don't get distracted by anything shiny."

She then turned and stared out across the mountain range. So the weasel would protect the dojo. It seemed odd and she wanted to stop and think but the situation didn't need thinking. It needed action - raw, primal action that the beast part of her mind had been demanding. She could ask later. Yes. She gave the weasel one last look.

"We talk later," she said, "If I don't come back, maybe we talk in afterlife, neh?"

And she laugh, dropped to all fours and loped off down the hill, trying to race the ooze to the far side of the mountain's base. There was something there, something so easy to overlook.

[Deleted]

The Blackstone Wings

Oscar, Gentleman Adventurer had her clutched gently in his arms, standing off to the side of the mass of engineers and flight staff who worked to get the airship launched. With a pang, Sarinon realized how much she longed to be working among them. Engineering was her greatest love save only for her brother.

But poor Mr Featherstone was mightily confused and Sarinon pitied him enough to tell him the truth. After all, he had saved her life more than once today. She still didn’t quite trust his intentions, but he was certainly no coward. That deserved respect.

“Mr Featherstone, I am only half human, despite what I look like. My father was of the Feberi race, winged enchanter folk who live in the mountains of the old lands. Perhaps you have come across them in your travels, but I doubt it. My brother’s Feberi blood runs truer than mine, thus his wings and ability to create enchantments. My human blood is the more dominant, but the dormant Feberi blood means I can … transform.”

She paused for a moment to let all that information sink in before continuing.

“I can sense when evil magic is being worked and that black ooze is most certainly evil. The music of the Dance of Death played vividly in my head, tormenting me. It wasn’t my choice to transform and, had I been in control … had I been stronger …” she trailed off and gazed down, a tiny tear leaking from her eye. She did her best to hide it.

Everything was going wrong. She had lost Sarn again and now the secret she had long kept close to her was in plain view of everyone who had heard her scream and witnessed Lady Sarinon shrink into a tiny fox. She considered transforming back again, but thought better of it when she realized that she had left her clothes behind.

“Mr Featherstone, I need your help once again. I don’t know why you’re here or why you decided to make me your mark, but I need you to find me some clothing so I can become my old self again. Please.” She gazed up imploringly.

[Zylaa]

((Ninja Dojo))

The creature pointed down a nearby hallway, and the General glanced down it, not wanting to take his eyes off the creature, even if she was talking to him now.

"Storeroom that way! Don't get distracted by anything shiny."

The General really, really hoped there was nothing shiny down that way, because telling one of the weasels to not get distracted by shiny things was the equivalent of telling a rock not to fall.

"We talk later," she said, "If I don't come back, maybe we talk in afterlife, neh?"

"You'll come back," the weasel said cheerfully. One of the many things the weasels lacked was a grasp of euphemisms. As the creature ran off, he bounded down the hallway she had indicated.

Mercifully, there were no shinies there. The storeroom was painfully obvious for a group that prided themselves so much on stealth. The weasel peeked in and surveyed the room quickly.

Canisters of gunpowder filled crates to the left, sake filled crates to the right. After experimentation with both boxes, the General figured out that the sake was a bit easier to hold, but heavier, while the canisters were so (relatively) big he could barely get his tiny arms around them. Then he realized that both things rolled.

Soon the general was bounding down the hall after several rolling canisters, matches clutched in his teeth. He stopped all of them as he got to the entrance to the dojo and looked out at the approaching ooze.

It was slow-moving ooze, at least, so he hopped out away from the dojo, unscrewed the first canister lid, and shook out a trail, careful to keep the gunpowder far away enough from the walls. Wouldn't want to hurt the creature's home. A nagging memory at the back of his mind suggested that this was somehow incredibly ironic.

When he'd exhausted the four canisters he'd brought out, he raced back for more, repeated the process several more times, and had barely finished adding the makeshift moltov cocktails of his own before the ooze touched the outermost powder.

With his paws, he struck a match against the closest canister, dropped it on the gunpowder, and leaped back.

Sparks made a blazing line across the front of the ninja dojo, punctuated by explosions and flames from piles of powder and the cocktails. The General watched in fascination. Fire was pretty. So pretty.

Only when it vanished did he look back at the ooze. The black stuff seemed to have retreated a bit, and its front seemed definitely more of a charred black than its usual blackness, but it was still advancing, slowly but surely. Gulping, the weasel General bounded back inside to get more explosives.

[Draco]

<<Outside Mage Manor In The Big Group Of People>>

Draco sat there as Scar was healed, a extra voice entered his head, Fleet Officers showed up, a Pirate defended her guild, and a small headache formed.

"What the heck is a Sue? What am I going to do about these officers? What is the best strategy? You can always give up and let me take over again. No, that doesn't sound good to me. Was worth a try. Can you answer the first question? You're me. If I don't know it, you don't know it! Was worth a try."

Draco rubs his temples for a moment and stands up. He ignores the officers for the time being, most likely to their annoyance, and turns to the Lupehunter.

"Possessed? I just thought he was crazy."

Then turning to the kitsune Pirate.

"I'm not sure about the Pirates. I know your captain wouldn't leave the planet to die. It makes little sense. However the fact is they are allied with the Space Fleet. The same Space Fleet bent on destroying the Mages."

He turns to the officers now, and walks slowly towards them.

"The same Fleet officers that are here right now," he holds his hands out to show he had nothing in them, "the only problem are you two. I just dealt with one of you, who attacked me. I don't think you want to do anything rash when there is a group."

Similar to Draco, Gil's head was swimming. But mostly from working on the ship and all the talking. He stops when Draco starts to approach the Fleet Officers.

"Uhh, Draco. Maybe provoking them might not be a good idea."

[Deleted]

Mage Manor and since Valentine's Day is coming up, BRING ON THE JOKES!


Looking back on this, Kovaran would probably be grateful that he was inside the Manor when the metal-haired stranger made her speech. He wasn't sure whether to believe her; she was very compelling, yes, he was certain of that. But something, deep within his mind, was protesting against that voice, those words, and that intended message.

And then, the kitsune beside him began to speak. She knew the names of some of the pirates, and would not turn against them - was she a pirate herself? She would be his foe, then-- NO! He was a ninja-- That fact has nothing to do with the crisis! SILENCE!

The voice in his mind went silent. Yet it did not leave, but still prowled within. Taking a breath and daring to make a foolish choice, he let go of his skull, and stood so that he would be at his full height. He took another breath, inhaling deeply.

People continued talking. Someone outside mentioned something about agreements and how friendships could be fickle, but he did not pay attention - why should he? Then, the metal-haired stranger began to speak again, telling of how this Underdeep was fuel, how it could not be contained once unsealed, and how there was now a powerful villain, and was he not the sword that cleaved evil?

"Mage Ikkin," he started, then blinked. How did he know her name? Further, how had he known that she was a kitsune? Prior to this day, he had never even seen her. And why was he looking at this strange, villainous beauty when-- Shut up. Kovaran took a deep breath. "Do pardon me. Regardless, Mage Ikkin--"

At this point, he heard the familiar voice of Draco, now talking to someone from... those beings from space. This did not look good. Surely Draco was plotting something sinister, and--Draco was his fellow ninja! A fellow guardian of the NTWF! But something told him that he had to stop Draco, somehow.

"DRACO OCARD!" If anyone thought the big lizard's speaking volume was loud, they might have been in for a shock at how loud he could shout - it was audible from a very long way off. "Move away from those officers, now!"

--

On top of a former dropship


To Nasue's surprise, the answer to her question came from the very things she was holding - literally. When the speaker started, well, speaking, she jumped (fur standing on end and everything). It was the very same voice she'd heard in the former dropship, and apparently it was an AI. Well, she was an AI, if the voice was any indication.

After taking a few breaths to calm down, the coati looked at the speaker, as well as everything connected to it. Then she laughed.

"Th-this is - well, I'd say 'unbelievable', but hell, how many weird things have happened to me today? Tons." Nasue laughed once more. "Maybe I should be getting used to it or something. Hell, I dunno.

"And, uh, Author? Ms. Author? What should I call you? A-anyway, if we're going to - if it's just you and me, then, yeah, maybe I should tell you my name too. I'm Nasuella. People call me Nasue."

[Kiddo]

The explosion coming from up the hill made Kiddo jump. Being non-human, her version of jumping was straight up and into the branches of the nearest tree. It was quite a leap, but at least she was up above the ooze now. It had cut off the descent to the base of the range but it didn't seem to be covering anything but the ground. If she just traveled through the petrified trees she could keep of it. They felt odd beneath her hands, like they were just sleeping. And with a bit of concentration she could see the mist bound within their shapes. Oh, if only she could release that potential...

But up ahead was her goal. She could see the brilliant gold-white glow and it was almost blinding. She shook her head and returned her sight to the reality above the mist.

The circle of spent phoenix fire was untouched by the ooze. It just went around the object that had left behind when the fox-phoenix died. Kiddo lept off the last tree branch and landed within that circle of scorched earth. Such... an easy thing to look over... everyone had magic items. Idly, she picked up a necklace of twine and a small greenish piece of metal wrapped as the pendant. Even her own spear was magical. Gone now, shattered when she cut off the phoenix wings. But this... it wasn't her own. She couldn't use it. And it had just sat here, waiting.

"Sorry," she whispered as she picked up the bronze, blood-stained spear, "If I knew how, I'd stop all of this. But you're waiting for someone with hope, aren't you? And I lost that."

Spear in hand she walked towards the edge of the ooze. It retreated. And Kiddo's feral smile broke into a grin, showing a dangerous array of fangs. This. This would be enough to protect her home. She started walking upright, back towards the Dojo, and the ooze made a path from her, not crossing into the boundaries of the spear. It couldn't save them, but it could save her home. And then she could go hunting for whoever had started this... and rip him to shreds.

[Strife]

((WARNING: This post is dark. If there was ever a time for me to stress the "Rated T" in the thread title, now is as good a time as any.))

((Spacefleet HQ - Central Security))

Cyclops had nestled his suit safely into a compartment just outside of the central security center. Since the suit was segmented, it was simple enough for him to dismantle and hide.

He then proceeded to crawl along the ceiling. It was the best place for him to travel without anyone noticing the slug-like trails of slime he naturally left behind. He calculated that the chances of a humanoid looking straight up would be of lesser likelihood than looking down at the floor.

When he reached the closed entrance to the control room, he pushed his entire body through the middle section of the door, slipping through it like water. His eyeball was a tighter squeeze, but with enough effort, he was able to condense it just like the rest of his body and emerge on the other side.

The inside of the security center was hectic, to say the least, with a large group of subcommanders and assistants monitoring the situation on all levels of Headquarters and relaying messages to various departments. If the Commander ever issued new orders, they would be the first to know and carry them out.

"Sir, we've just received word that the satellite network will be fully operational in less than four minutes," said one of the officers to his superior.

"Finally," replied the subcommander with a huff. "What took them so long?"

"There was some concern about the virus remaining dormant in the network's subroutines. We've run several thorough scans just to be safe."

The subcommander rubbed his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. The day had been stressful, to say the least.

"Alright," he continued. "Contact the surface through an open channel once it's finished."

"Yes, sir."

While the conversation took place, Cyclops continued to crawl along the inner groove of the ceiling. He calculated his every move with geometric precision, making sure that his slime trail would be completely obscured by the surrounding textures.

Eventually, he came to a small power conduit near one of the wall-mounted computer terminals. There were tiny slits on the side of the conduit that allowed heat from the central processors to escape. Cautiously, he pushed his entire body inside and began to navigate the insides of Spacefleet's supercomputer.

The voice of his former Commander echoed inside his mind once again.

Remember, Subcommander... target the refugees. Leave Spacefleet personnel untouched.

Strife's indescribably ominous voice, combined with the overwhelming risk of his operation, made Cyclops' gelatin body vibrate with tension and fear - two emotions that he never experienced before in his life. Despite this, he continued to push himself through the supercomputer, if only for the fact that he knew that hesitation would exponentially decrease his success rate.

At last, he found himself wrapped around the core. Figuratively speaking, his finger was on every button in the room.

Let the cleansing begin.

Cyclops vibrated uncontrollably. His eye grew increasingly moist and began dripping his equivalent to tears.

Do it. Now.

His mind leaked into the controls for Spacefleet's security systems, and he proceeded to reconfigure them to Strife's will. He would fool the system into believing that the Commander had issued a Code Red situation instead of Code Yellow. Under this protocol, any foreign entity aboard the station would be deemed an intruder, and dealt with accordingly by internal defenses.


((Spacefleet HQ - Central Nexus - Sector 4B))

Headquarters was packed to the brim. Refugees from all corners of the guild continent huddled together in cramped areas. Mages and Knights, Brassport and Tabloid Town, men and women, adults and children. Despite their differences, they all had once thing in common - anxiety. One could practically smell the fear and concern that filled the air of the moon base. No one was quite sure what was happening down on the surface, but things were growing more tense by the minute.

Now, the tension was about to climb to a whole new level.

Suddenly and surprisingly, the entire room began pulsing a deep red color while a high-pitched alarm wailed. The sound itself was enough to make most of the refugees skip a heartbeat.

"Warning," boomed the loudspeaker. "Intruders Detected In All Main Departments. Defense Protocols Activated."

Several tiles in the ceiling sweeped open, and a group of sentry guns descended. After rotating on their axis and scanning the room for hostile lifeforms, they proceeded to open fire into the large mass of refugees.


((Spacefleet HQ - Central Nexus - Sector 4C))

The sound of gunfire could be heard in the other room, followed shortly by a tidal wave of high-pitched screaming. This alone caused the entire room to erupt in a frenzy of panic and terror.

The officers on hand could do nothing to calm the refugees. Some of them shouted furiously, while others climbed over one another in order to try and bash open the doors, which had been sealed as part of the so-called Defense Protocols.

Before long, another round of sentry guns descended from the ceiling in this room.


((Spacefleet HQ - Central Security))

At this point, one could hear the sound of weapons fire and screaming throughout the entire station. The officers in Central Security knew what was going on almost immediately, but despite their best efforts, they couldn't disable the defense protocols, nor could they understand why it was happening.

Because the satellites were now operational, however, they could at least relay the situation immedately to the surface.

"Commander! Come in, Commander!" shouted the subcommander who had spoken earlier. He had to shout so his voice was audible over the screams in the other rooms. "This is Central Security! Our systems have been sabotaged, and our command codes aren't disabling the defense protocols! The refugees up here are dropping like flies! I strongly recommend we abort evacuation procedures on the surface!"

[Draco]

<<Outside Mage Manor>>

Draco feels like he was going to be blown over from Kovaran's voice. He turns his head to look at the large ninja.

"I'm only showing them that I'm not holding weapons. No doubt they were given orders to shoot on any hostility. You know as good as I do, that if I wanted to kill them, I could have done it all ready."

He returns his gaze to the officers.

"So tell me officers, what are you here for?"

He stares at the Fleet members, not moving.

"These fools. Do they not know that I'm trying to tell them Space Fleet are their enemies? That Strife is there new ruler? Somebody has to do this, cleanse the world?! You are really going insane. You know that right? You think so? I'm only thinking what you've kept locked away for years. And I do intend to put it into action."

---
<<Space Station>>

The ninja, a ninja who's name was not important, was leaning against a wall. He was staring at a mother and child. The mother seem scared, but the child was carefree. She laughed as she looked out a window into space, and was amazed by the things all around them. Every now and then she commented on the guild members that she normally rarely seen. She waves to the nameless ninja, and he returns the wave.

He didn't really want to leave the planet, or leave the dojo, but he felt like he had a reason to come into space. The place was crowded, and there were people of all guilds, towns, and even in the few Brassportians around, dimensions.

When the loud noise from the intercoms, flashing lights, and guns appeared, time seem to slow down. People began to panic. People were stampeding. He watched as the little girl was separated from her mother, and being pushed around from all the people. He quickly runs over and swoops her up. Looking around, he can spot her mother, but she was caught in the stampede, and being swept away in the river of people.

He looks at the guns coming from the ceiling, and with one hand throws kunai at a couple of them. They explode from the impacts, but are soon replaced by more. He rushes through the crowd, bouncing off the walls every now and then, and gets to the girls mother. He hands her over, and hears a noise just above them.

Another gun turret had appeared, and aimed directly at the two. He pushes them out of the way and is shot several times. Before he hits the ground he manages to throw another kunai at the gun, stopping it. He looks over at the girl and mother, his sight going blurry, "Be safe." This must have been his reason for coming. Protect the next generation. Everything goes dark for him.

[Fraze]

((Mage Manor))
When the man admitted that he had attacked a 'Fleeter, several troops flinched. The leader of the evacuation team halted them with a motion before they could make any threatening actions. "I don't know whether you're lying or being lied to, but what you say is simply wrong. The 'Fleet has been collaborating with the Mages through exchange of ideas and innovations. Both guilds have benefited from the alliance. We respect the Mages and have no desire to wage war on them. That would only lead to unnecessary tragedy on both sides.

"And look around you," he continued, growing more vehement. He was speaking now to everyone who might be in the vicinity and cared to listen. "The world is turning to stone. Half the planet is already covered and it will only be a matter of hours before the other half is as well. We're offering help to anyone who wants it, take it or leave it. We have medical supplies if you need them, and we can give you passage to safety. But--" he hesitated. "--we will not allow any unprovoked attacks against either civilians or Spacefleet personnel."

--------

((Zagora's Shop))

Fraze looked at the drawing. Scribbling. Whatever it was. The skinsuit copied and saved the image. Once the communication network had been reestablished, he could search for a match in the 'Fleet database.
"Well, that's excellent. At the rate this stuff is spreading, I'll have a maximum of six hours to get this thing to you. If not--"

It was the second worst sound he had ever heard. "Commander! Come in, Commander! This is Central Security! Our systems have been sabotaged, and our command codes aren't disabling the defense protocols! The refugees up here are dropping like flies! I strongly recommend we abort evacuation procedures on the surface!"

Fraze's eyes grew wide and his knees nearly gave out. His mind raced. Two dozen questions streamed through his mind, most of which he didn't want answered. "Hold," he responded. He didn't waste any more time formulating a response.

Security codes. He had the highest clearance available to anyone in Spacefleet, equivalent to presidential veto power. Once he made such a decision, it could only be stopped if at least half of the Subcommanders currently on or in contact with 'Fleet HQ put in their personal override codes.
With the comm link back up, he got into the 'Fleet computer system. Security system. Code Red--Code Red? He changed it back to a Code Yellow and locked out any other access. Only he could change the threat level now, save for an expert hacker. He wouldn't think about that possibility just now.
According to the security system chronometer, the Code Red had been active for seventeen seconds. With two seconds for it to take full effect, that would have meant a fifteen-second barrage of bullets on terrified, helpless civilians. He estimated that there would be around thirty thousand injuries, but wasn't sure how many of those would be fatal wounds.
"The evacuation is already more than 90% complete," he told Security, "but abort it nonetheless. The rest is up to you. Crowd control as best you possibly can. Get every able-bodied troop to calm people down. Get every doctor, every medic, everyone who knows what a compression bandage is and get them working on saving these people, give me an injured and a fatality count as soon as possible. Clear out the emergency medical supplies from all sections and put them to use. NOW."

((For what I mean by "sections," please refer to the 'Fleet map in the CoC.))

The entire process worked at the speed of thought. Deactivating the Code Red took four seconds, relaying that message to Security took another four. Fraze now checked the Security access logs. He found the terminal that activated the Code, and the person who did it was...
Subcommander Cyclops?
Once again, too many coincidences. Was the Subcommander working on his own? No, probably not, he had always been a voice of mediation and reason. Fraze had valued his advice when he was first learning the ropes of this job. Then, was he being controlled? Yes, that was probably it. And the only person he could think of who knew Cyclops, knew him well, and knew what he was capable of--
Was the last person Fraze wanted to come to the 'Fleet.

Was he still being controlled? Maybe. Probably. If Strife had found an in to Spacefleet, he wouldn't give it up easily. Fraze had thought he

The amoeboid Subcommander couldn't have gone too far, since he must have disconnected from his mobile suit and couldn't move very quickly normally. And he was traveling through a power conduit. No one else was in there at the time.
Fraze gave the power system in that vicinity two contradictory orders, which would cause a brief power surge.
He sent a message directly to that terminal. "I'm sorry."

750,000 volts of electricity tore through the conduit for ten seconds.

--------

Fraze realized he was shaking. His suit's clock told him that twenty seconds had passed since he received the message from the 'Fleet. He looked up at the voodoo woman watching him with what seemed like curiosity. He had an odd feeling that, somehow, she knew exactly what had just happened.

There was one more thing. "Huntress," he called, not realizing he had never called her that before. Even his thoughts sounded panicky. "Oh great gods, Huntress, are you all right?"

[Zylaa]

((Ninja Dojo))

The General finished up his second line of powder and had already lit the second explosion when he spotted the creature heading back. Little connections had formed in his mind-- for instance, that this creature was probably a ninja. He watched the second glorious explosion race down the line of ooze, and only once it burned out did he bound over to the approaching creature.

"Hi again, ninja-creature-lady! Thank you for shiny explosiveness! I am General of Weasels, from Zylaa and pirates." It had taken him a second to remember to call his master by her name instead of Big Weasel. He then noticed the pleased, but very very fanged grin on her face, and continued to relay his information as quickly as possible. "But you can keep calling me Tasty. Pirates on Spacefleet now. Zylaa says, go find people still alive on planet. Everyone else at Mage Manor or in space. Except evil man who made ooze. He no count." He took a deep breath.

"You can come with me or give me message for pirates."

((Spacefleet))

And suddenly, the usual piratical procedure of sneaking and stealing and having a good sarcastic laugh turned into a nightmare as pure as anything the Underdeep could've spat out.

Everything in the hangar was suddenly bathed in deep red light.

"Warning," a loudspeaker crackled overhead. "Intruders Detected In All Main Departments. Defense Protocols Activated."

Zylaa whipped her head up towards the ceiling in time to see the sentry guns descend.

"Into the ship!" she screamed, leaping towards the still mercifully open door. Not caring about what the ship's authorization would do anymore, not caring about anything but the guns about to shred her crew, she grabbed any crewmembers in her path and dove as the sentry guns opened fire. The weasels were already inside, but Zylaa scooted even further in as bullets pinged at the doors.

She curled up tightly into a ball and tried to blot out the distant screams. A very small rational part of her knew that the weasels were alright. They were low to the ground, they wouldn't have been hit. That rational part, however, also knew that the only thing blocking the weasels would have been the helpless refugees.

Zylaa stayed curled up even after the bullets stopped flying, until she heard another crewmember.

[Ikkin]

Ikkin had expected that someone would continue to implicate the Pirates, but she wasn't quite prepared for the chorus of voices that spoke up.

"Then how do you explain them being around the 'Fleeter at the time of the attack and when he implimented his plan?" Celestial asked. "I think they discussed it beforehand, at least coming to some sort of agreement. And he was fighting with them. Perhaps you don't know your friends as well as you thought. In war, friendships are fickle things."

Fighting with who? Ikkin thought. Merpo? But that guy didn't fight... Before she figured it out, the perfect platinum-haired beauty added her own fuel to the fire.

"I'm sorry," she said, her own distress palpable in the air. "I know how hard this must be for you to hear. Desperation can drive people to do awful things."

Desperation... yes, Ikkin knew that all too well. Perhaps there was something to this story after all. It certainly was beginning to convince her, against her own better instincts.

Before she could lose her senses completely, though, a ninja spoke up and made her remember exactly what was wrong with that suggestion.

"I'm not sure about the Pirates. I know your captain wouldn't leave the planet to die. It makes little sense. However the fact is they are allied with the Space Fleet. The same Space Fleet bent on destroying the Mages."

Having it spelled out what, exactly, the Pirates were being accused of just made Ikkin even more adamant that they couldn't have done it. Hunty had absolutely nothing to gain by allowing the planet to be destroyed. It was so obvious that she never would have helped this happen if she knew what she was doing...

Which just meant that Spacefleet must have been controlling her. They certainly hadn't been above that kind of thing when she'd first met them... but, then, she herself had worked together with them diplomatically later on.

Still, if it came down to blaming this on the Pirates or the Spacefleet, she'd choose the 'Fleet every time.

And it seemed that the confrontations would happen sooner rather than later. The ninja who'd helped clear her mind had gone over to a couple of Spacefleet officers, and started baiting them. Before he could do anything more, though, the lizard-ninja shouted louder than she would have thought possible. "DRACO OCARD! Move away from those officers, now!"

"I'm only showing them that I'm not holding weapons," the other ninja - Draco - responded. "No doubt they were given orders to shoot on any hostility. You know as good as I do, that if I wanted to kill them, I could have done it all ready. So tell me, officers, what are you here for?"

"I don't know whether you're lying or being lied to," the officer responded, "but what you say is simply wrong. The 'Fleet has been collaborating with the Mages through exchange of ideas and innovations. Both guilds have benefited from the alliance. We respect the Mages and have no desire to wage war on them. That would only lead to unnecessary tragedy on both sides.

"And look around you," he continued, growing more vehement. "The world is turning to stone. Half the planet is already covered and it will only be a matter of hours before the other half is as well. We're offering help to anyone who wants it, take it or leave it. We have medical supplies if you need them, and we can give you passage to safety. But - we will not allow any unprovoked attacks against either civilians or Spacefleet personnel."

Ikkin was about to respond to this by simply questioning the cause of the petrification of the planet when she felt something that chilled her to the bone.

It was very faint, since it was so far away, but there was no mistaking it. Thousands of magical signatures had just disappeared from what she could only assume was the Spacefleet headquarters. Some of them, judging by the power of the signature, could only be Mages.

"The planet is turning into stone..." she said, her voice a low hiss. "Yeah, and whose fault is that? No one who calls this planet home would do such a thing, even if they cared about no one but themselves... but you don't live here. What do you care?"

Her voice grew louder as she continued her rant. "And look what you get from this. You get to come down and soar in from the sky, offering your assistance to everyone who wishes to accept. You get to be heroes. Everyone loves you.

"And then," she said, "when everyone trusts you, and flies up to your amazing flying city, you show your true colors. You kill off the people who you've spirited away just as soon as they're unable to fight back.

"I don't know if he had a good reason to attack you," she finished. "But I'm certainly not going to allow any more of my Mages to accept your poisoned help. And I'm not going to let you harm anyone here, even if they strike first. Because honestly, I can't blame them."

Considering the fact that the Spacefleet had most likely manipulated her friends into helping out with their barbaric plan, it was a miracle she herself hadn't already started attacking.

[Kiddo]

Ninja Dojo

Kiddo stared at the weasel, panting. From the PIRATES!? Well, that certainly explained the effenciency in which he had handled the explosives. And with the ooze destroying their world it made sense to band together and put aside old grudges.

"Zylaa?" she asked, "Is Zylaa their leader now? Does she wear the pink meepit pajamas now? Ah... well, you did good with explosives, Tasty. Very good. Long enough for me to get this."

She brandished the bronze spear and then turned and slammed it point-first into the earth, sinking it nearly half of the way down its shaft into the ground. The ground seemed to shudder and the ooze simply halted.

"THERE!" Kiddo cried, "Try and get past THAT! My home WILL be safe!"

And she laughed, turning back to the weasel with a frightening grin on her face.

"It knows how to protect this place," she said as explanation, "So we are no longer needed. Pirates in space? Never heard of such a thing. Can you take me there? A monster needs to hunt a monster I think... if there is one evil man making the ooze... we have to meet."

She laughed again, this time a hissing growl.

"Yes. We find him and there will be fire and blood and vengeance." She raised her head to the skies and howled. "YOU HEAR ME!? I FIND YOU! I KILL!"