The Bloodlines: Arcadia, a x-overs fanfic

LEGALITIES:

Jacob, Arlie, Alexsi, Maria, Ryus, Albel, Alastor, Lucifer, Lillith, Universal Mobile Armor Gear, All Kitetsuns, Kitetsuns, Tech Soldiers of the American Empire, Demon Pact Soldiers of The Russian Republic, Russian Realms, Kitetsun Realms, The Dimensional Protectorate Federation Peacekeeping Task Force, and all related Characters are © Dragonia Productions, and © Ascended Dragon 2005

X, Zero, Megaman, Protoman, Bass, Dr. Light, and all other Capcom related Characters are© CAPCOM

Tau, Eldar, Imperial Guard, Orks, and all related character are (c) Games Workshop and Citadel Miniatures

Anthony Bault, Major Sharpe, and all those who inhabit the diverse world of Arcadia are © to their Prospective owners

If i am missing copyrights or if anyone would like to give me ideas, post it in the review section

THE BLOODLINES: ARCADIA

A light rain had begun to fall on the early morning forest. The lightning flashed every few minutes, with resounding thunder following shortly after. The weather was preferred now, masking the crashing of foliage, the crack of rock, and sound of water hitting metal. The dead drop had been a success. As though a timer went off, the several or so pod's doors burst of their hinges. Systems were activated, zero-point moments calibrated, and communicators became activated. They rose from the pods, carefully checking either side, green eyes glowing.

"All clear."

"Checking primary systems…all green."

"Checking secondary systems…all green."

"Vital signs stable."

"Checking status…done."

"Checking zero-point…done."

"Checking weapons systems…done."

"Checking Universal Mobile Armor Gear…done."

"Checking unilateral communications…done."

"Final systems check…done."

"Checkpoint confirmed. Arming weapons systems…done."

The black figure looked to the others. His second nodded.

"Sound-off."

"Angel." Arlie/AE-X-101

"Sentinel." Alexsi/ExS-114

"Gerbera." Zero/AE-1-78

"Duel." X/RX-176

"Havoc." Albel/MAGANAC-09

"Griffon." Maria/Fulcrum-90

"ARMs." Ryus/ALEX-1-78

"Cross." Jacob/X-2-Cross

Nodding, the figure pulled a small sidearm from the pod. Firing it straight up, a small probe began to flash. Images appeared as a small map was carefully uploaded into each visor. The dark city loomed menacingly off to the west, also receiving a light rain.

"Target confirmed. Estimated distance: 2050 kilometers. Estimated time till the operation: 30 minutes."

"We had to leave an hour ago, people. Synchronize mission times."

Thirty minutes appeared on the visor. It began to decline.

29:59…29:58…29:57…

"We're ghosts, people."

Boosters igniting, several ghostly forms darted away in the direction of the city. The pods suddenly were bathed in rays of light, vaporizing them out of existence…

---

"What do you think it was?"

The Heroes Council gathered around the strange images, trying to make sense of the meteors, then the seven pillars of light. Zelda had a picture of the meteors in her hand, criticizing the picture.

"I don't think these are natural. I've seen a few meteor showers that hit Hylas once in a while, but nothing like this."

"But, what about the beams of light," Protoman announced, "They couldn't have been natural either."

"What about a magic meteorite? We've had dozens in Gardenia. Though none have ever exploded like that," Peach said, offering another thought.

"And," Tails piqued up, "What about those strange readings that we got from the site? No sign of any material, just some banged up foliage and rock."

Anthony sighed. Never had anything happened to Arcadia like this. Sally was having Nicole run through data scans of the surrounding area, Megaman and Bass were still on location, Sonic was zooming around the area for anything suspicious, and the Mario brothers and Link were with the Descendants looking over the strange images that were brought back from a scout on patrol. They hadn't felt it necessary to contact Ani-Earth, Ani-Mobius or any of the other worlds yet. Anthony had called all of the descendants together, knowing that they would be needed.

The images had water distortion all over them, but the shapes and lights were still evidence enough. Something strange had come to Arcadia.

"So all that we know is that something crashed pretty far from Knothole, something flew away and then rays of light hit the area. Now that we're there, there is nothing left. It doesn't make sense." Distraught, Anthony paced back and forth looking at the images placed on the wall. Protoman looked up at him, watching the Gamemaster pace.

"Wearing the floor out isn't going to help. What we need to do is to try and figure out-"

A small thud resounded in the room. Anthony looked around, and then dropped his Empathy barrier. Discord and disarray filled his mind as he saw people screaming. Figures emerged from a broken section of wall in the main square. He immediately started to order the Heroes into action.

---

ARMs' and Havoc's job was to make noise. ARMs' UMAG cannons had been specially modified with blanks, shock-nets, and "False kills." Havoc's fought with a red inked bokudo, leaving 'kills' with everyone he met. While they made noise, Sentinel, Duel, Gerbera, Angel, Griffon, and Crossbone slipped in and split into three different teams. Gerbera and Angel had fifteen minutes to cut off power throughout the city. Sentinel and Duel were to take out troops with tear and/or knockout gas in ten minutes. Griffon and Crossbone were to find and secure the five targets that were spread throughout the city. It was a precision operation, and it required an equal amount of tactics and time.

"Go, go, go. Stay in the shadows, teams."

"Roger."

---

Sentinel and Dual made it to the barracks in plenty of time. Looking in on the now alert soldiers, they grabbed a few grenades. The initial small noise that was caused as two grenades were flung into each of the twenty rooms was ignored. But as the small plume of smoke started to fill the rooms, panic ensued. As soon as they made sure every combatant was out of the picture, they were gone. Their orders were to meet up to take out the targets.

Angel and Gerbera were lucky that the guards posted at the door were gone, probably a result from the mass pandemonium caused in the main square. Slipping in was no hassle, it was setting the charges that mattered.

"We have two minutes, and then we're off. Let's set now."

Angel grabbed a charge and slapped it to a nearby turbine fan. Setting the timer for two minutes, she moved on to the next one, while Gerbera was calibrating the fail-safe he was planning on using.

"Last one."

Setting the charge onto the main computer, both were startled when a figure burst into the room. It was an elf, armed to the teeth, and very upset. Angel pulled her spear out of its sheath, turning it around to its non-lethal counter-balance and charged.

"Get out of here, now! Then blow it!"

Gerbera stumbled, and then set the remaining timer for a minute. Then he dashed for the two combatants.

---

Crossbone and Griffon watched and waited as ARMs and Havoc wandered around the now empty square. Havoc pushed over one of the bodies, kneeling down to check for a pulse. ARMs looked in his direction. Havoc shook his head.

"Still alive."

"Good. Sooner were done this the better."

The communiqués came just as three people landed in the main square. They were horrified at the 'carnage' that had 'happened.'

"Beta team. Mission complete. Heading to rendezvous point now."

"Delta team. Ran into a problem. Be there ASAP."

ARMs and Havoc were now casually gauging the reactions of the three new-comers while raising their weapons. Crossbone buzzed Havoc over the com.

"Havoc. ARMs. Take them out."

A resounding thwump signaled that Delta team had a successful mission. Crossbone turned to Griffon. He nodded towards the sound.

"See what the problem is. Take out any hostiles along the way."

Griffon nodded, shouldering her rifle and speeding off towards the sound. Crossbone buzzed ARMs next.

"How many nets left?"

"Enough."

"Take them conscious if you can."

"Roger."

---

Griffon had opted to skirt across the rooftops. Her pistol was out instantly, readying herself for anything. She leapt to the next building, her suit absorbing most of the weight. She buzzed Gerbera.

"What's the problem? Hit a snag?"

"Something like that. Angel's hurt, and we've got a pissed off elf after us."

"On my way. Stay frosty."

"Roger."

She carefully tracked the Delta team's last transmission, using whatever cover she could find. She found Gerbera holding his out, with Angel gripping her arm. The elf hadn't seen her yet, so she holstered her pistol. She un-slung her rifle, kneeling and taking aim.

---

Crossbone watched from his hiding spot, eyeing the newcomers. There were five of them now, the young man, a reploid, a young kit, a pair of mustached man, one red pants, one in green; he watched as two figures ran across the square. Both had regal garments; one was a young chipmunk, pistol in hand, the other had to have been the king, sword in hand, preparing him for anything.

Crossbone brought up a cross-section of the city. He carefully made note of the positions of his teams, then checked the mission time.

00:12...00:11...00:10...

He opened a channel to the teams.

"Ten seconds."

A series of confirmation lights blinked on the HUD. Everyone had received the message; now all he had to do was signal the other teams...

He pulled out a small sphere-like device, bringing up an antenna. A small screen appeared, asking for a voice command.

"How the great have fallen, through blade and storm, only to rise once more and fall to ash..."

The sphere confirmed the voice match, relaying a signal back home...

---

Alastor lazily spun his blades' hilt through his fingers, watching the closed portal,willing it to open. He sighed when nothing happened, and looked to his left. The SPARTANs were also watching the portal, all standing or sparring, but Alastor knew that they didn't want to do this either. Of course, Jacob and Alexsi had both given the same orders, so he and his men weren't about to complain. His sight drifted over to the Americans.

The tech driven mad-men were making one last check of their gear and ordinance, securing it so no one would lose it. Alastor felt bitterness as he watched his former enemies' suit up for this operation. He had requested that they should remain behind, just for precautions, of course. Alastor's request was short-lived when Jacob revealed that UMAG Team would stay behind as the portal guardians. Alastor couldn't help but growl as he thought about it. He hated technology, hated the thought of working side by side with it. His thoughts turned to his commander. He laughed, in spite of himself. His commander was now trapped in one of those UMAG's, probably having a good time fighting the good fight. Much as he hated to admit, he respected any technology that he had fought against or used. After all, it was technology that made him who he was.

He smirked. Rather, it made me WHAT I am, he thought. His golden eyes lazily drifted back to the portal. There was a noise to his right, but he calmed himself, knowing that it was only the Kitetsuns. He stood a little straighter, reaching for his vodka bottle. There was a shuffle of feet as he unscrewed the top. He took a look right to see the Kitetsun leader drifting towards him. Their orange armor had been replaced by a jungle-camo type of leather armor, flexible but weak. That, of course wasn't taking into consideration the fact that the agile little foxes, as some called them, were devilishly quick. The leader strode closer, sniffing the air.

"Do you mind? I'm a bit parched."

Alastor shrugged, handing the flask over to her. She quickly sniffed it, taking a quick drought. Alastor noticed that her body shivered.

"What's the problem?"

"Sorry. I'm not quite used to the taste yet."

Alastor raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes.

"Lightweight..."

The Kitetsun shook herself, scratching behind her ear. She looked at his team, and then shook her head.

"How do you expect we find these things? We don't even know what they look like. And the Captain says--"

"You shouldn't worry too much about it. I hear that your portals are all together. The SPARTANS are going to have a shit time of securing five different locations at once."

"But our teams have no clue what we're supposed to look for."

Alastor sighed. He wished he could smoke in here, but the D-room was filled with dangerous materials, different metals, explosives...

An alarm began to blare; first once, then a constant wail of the gate sirens. Teams immediately began to throw the last of their gear together, each rushing to their designated position. The SPARTANs readied their rifles, switching the safeties off. The portal shimmered for a moment, flaring to life.

"Portal 1 is now active. Location locked. Coordinates set to Area 51, in New Mexico, Earth-norm, version 25543. Please stand by."

---

Area 51 had been on high security since the unknown objects had appeared on Mobius. Gen. Sharpe had heard now that Arcadia was under attack, and he was to send support through the portal. Troops pounded to the portals, M-4's in hand. It was 1:43 in the morning, and most of the men had just come off duty. Many wore weary looks as they patrolled the base down to the last nook and cranny. Gen. Sharpe wasn't sure what was going to happen yet.

"I want 24-hour coverage on those portals! No one comes out unless they identify themselves first! Understood?"

A group shout of 'Yes, Sir!' rang out in front of the portals. Gen. Sharpe sped to the communications building located next to the 'portal house'.

"Get the President on the line, on the double! I want as much support as we can get on this! Double time boys! Let's get it done!"

"Sir, we're getting through to Washington! They say-"

A crack of thunder pealed through the base. Everyone stood stunned.

"It wasn't raining outside," Gen. Sharpe asked, "Was it?"

"There a front coming in, but nothing that would cause thunder and lightening."

Gen. Sharpe shook off a bad feeling. "What did the commander say?"

"He said that we should hold position until reinforcements arrive."

"That sounds easy enough."

Another peal of thunder rolled throughout the complex. It was followed by shouts. A soldier flew into the room.

"General! Something's happening!"

Sharpe grabbed a loaded pistol off one of the counsels, cocked it and followed the soldier.

"What's going on?"

"Something just appeared in the middle of the base! We think it might be some sort of portal. But, we're not sure..."

They stopped short of a ring of men near the entrance to the compound. Sharpe looked over the men. He blinked to make sure his eyes weren't betraying him. The portal seemed to rip the air, shimmering with multiple colors and strange shapes.

The ring of men had their sights set for whichever side was the exit. One of the soldiers cautiously approached the glimmering tear in space.

"Be careful, we still don't know what that thing is," Sharpe ordered the younger private. The young man had seen a lot on his time at the base; magic, game characters, newer technology...but he had to admit, this took the cake. His M-4 at the ready, he inched closer.

There were two small clicks. Two small objects flew from the portal, one hitting the soldiers boot, the other going in the opposite direction. Sharpe could only look on in horror as the grenades went off. Smoke flowed from the twin cylinder explosive, filling the air with gas.

"Fall Back! Fall Back! Get away from it!"

That was when two of his troops fell. Sharpe squinted. Something was moving in the gas, large, dark, and green. Amber glinted at what had to be the head. The figure shifted, and then there was a burst of flashes.

---

It was a simple task, thought Tess. Or rather it should've been a simple one. Guards had been put on high alert, and getting around them would be very noisy. The Kitetsun leader bit her lip, eyeing the keep for any entrances. She couldn't make much out, her eyes still not used to the darkness that had enveloped them once the portal had closed. She turned to her best scouts, motioning with hand signals towards the keep. Two of them (she thought it was Klye and Mineas) took off towards the forbidding castle. She motioned towards the forest near the castle, indicating the high vantage point that they would have. She licked her lips again, her throat suddenly dry. She thought it might have been the vodka. After about ten minutes, Klye and Mineas had returned. They nodded to Tess, and motioned for her.

---

Greg cocked the MEG-17 Rifle, firing another three rounds at the security system again. His heart pounded as he dove behind cover, next to Chris, his Tech Lt. The man was franticly punching keys, trying to overload the advanced security measures this place had.

"What's taking so goddamn long! We only have two hours to get this right!"

"I'm sorry, alright? I am not familiar with this type of program. Its gonna take a minute or tw-"

A rocket screamed from his left, followed by an explosion. Greg shielded his eyes. Carefully, he looked left, wondering who had smuggled a rocket launcher on this mission. Ashley lowered the Stinger-4, the tubes still smoking. She folded the barrels up, looking back to her commander and shook her head.

"Idiots."

---

Alastor lazily spun his blade in slow, undeterminable arcs, boredom in his eyes. It had taken only a half of an hour to secure these 'security risks'. A few of the conscious guards wriggled in the demonified restraints, only making them tighter. His gaze shifted, moving from his men to the portal and back again.

Dias spoke, "How long are we expected to wait here, Comrade? We should have let the Americans--"

"Pipe down, Dias. You know as well as I do that whatever assignment we are given, we follow it through to the end. Just take this opportunity to relax, take in the scenery...," Alastor chided, throwing the blade into the air. It spun into the air in a lazy arc, sweeping through the air without rhyme or reason.

"I hate to say it, commander, but would you mind sitting still? You're making the rest of us look bad..."

---

Cross watched with growing concern as a seemingly endless supply of newcomers poured out of nothing. Five young women wearing sailor uniforms, four men and a woman in gi's, three blue hedgehogs, and a strange assortment of other characters that he almost didn't recognize. He blinked when they all stood behind the man with the blade. Bault, he reminded himself. He checked his teams again, concerned with what was taking them so long. Gerbera and Angel were slowly making their way toward the plaza, Sentinel and Duel were near the plaza, but Cross didn't see them, Griffon was a few yards to his right, ARMs and Havoc stood in the plaza, casually staring at the new comers. Cross looked again and caught his breath. Bault had two...no, three people wearing the same armor as he was. Cross frowned in his helmet.

"All right teams, there has been a change in plans...

---

Anthony didn't know why two of the invaders were just standing there. They looked strange though, almost familiar. Ashura landed near him in his Shining Armor, and gasped.

"Ant! Those are...they can't be...they are! They're Gundams, Ant!"

Anthony looked at Ashura. "You sure?"

"Positive. That one looks like Gundam Alex, the other I don't recognize. But they are definitely Gundams."

"Why are they just standing there? Why don't they attack? I bet they're waiting for something..." Amy said.

"Hey, look!" Protoman pointed to the top of a nearby building.

A caped figure dove off, and a blue glow appeared behind him. He landed easily near the two Gundams, calmly walking forward. They turned to meet him, acknowledging him with a nod. Five more appeared, one landing lightly near the Alex, two more strafing to the left of the unidentified Gundam, and two more running up next to the caped stranger.

"They're all Gundams, but how?"

The caped Gundam lifted a hand to the fox like Gundam, tenderly examining her arm. Satisfied he nodded to his group, and began to walk towards Anthony. His movements were silent, fluid and determined. Anthony gingerly reached out with a tendril of psionic, attempting to see if it was organic. He ran smack into a wall of Anger, an effective barrier that he could't penetrate. It's probably human, Anthony thought. The caped figure stopped thirty meters in front of the large group. Anthony could make out its features now. Matte-black armor, a crest with a set of crossbones with a sword pointed down in the center, blue lightning arched over one eye, a skull where the forehead crest was; it was death in a mechanical form. It reached up to the side of its head, twisting something there. Its jaw dropped slightly, making it seem as if he were smiling.

"Anthony Bault?" it asked in a semi-mechanical voice.

Anthony steeled himself. "I'm Anthony Bault. Who are you and why have you come here?"

It took a step forward extending its hand. It held a crest similar to the one its chest.

"I suggest you surrender peacefully. You are in violation of Dimensional Protectorate Law Number 0067-93-57. Put down your weapons now."

"Not until you explain why you're here. Who are you, anyway?"

The figure lowered his arm. "My name is Crossbone. I am the High Commander of the Dimensional Protectorate Federation Peacekeeping Task Force. I am here to place you under arrest, and close the portals that you have so carelessly ripped open. Now, lay down your weapon and keep your hands where I can see them. If you resist I will not hesitate to use force."

---

Somewhere in his heart, Cross felt a sense of remorse. He would've made a good ally if he were willing to hand Arcadia over as a tool of war. Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case. He continued, watching the shocked faces of the Arcadians as he spoke:

"You have violated a number of laws, Mr. Bault. You have tampered with the natural laws; undoing numerous histories, robbing death of souls he was meant to collect, and numerous others. You have also become a threat to the safety of millions of innocent civilians in the DPF by compiling a military force equal to that of our own, if not greater. We also have sources that say you have been in contact with high-level members of a group that we are at war with."

Anthony stood rigid, his mouth dropping as Cross continued to pile on the accusations. A number of the other looked baffled at the accusations. Cross stood his ground, not yielding anything. Finally, Anthony started to laugh.

"What is so funny, Mr. Bault?"

Anthony smiled, and replied:

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but we have a standing order regarding Rift Hunters and their ilk," Anthony said, getting ready to fight. "That being...kill on sight."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

No, he thought, that's not how it should be. He crushed the page, tossing it into the nearest waste basket. He looked at the pile of paperwork, dreading the chore that lay before him. Jesus, he thought, what am I to do? He grabbed the coffee sitting to his right and sipped it for a moment. It had taken two weeks of Dimension dives to find the whereabouts of Arcadia, then at least two months of training and preparation to prepare the teams. He had sent several spy networks into Arcadia, just to glean out certain points. So far, Illuminati had not made there presence known, and from what he could tell they had never been there, or at least hadn't reached them yet. The level of technology ranged from Dark Age/magical to sci-fi/psychic, and beyond that, they hadn't integrated much. He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the stars in the ceiling. The many cameras reflected HOME's environment out side of the station, and his view included two of the three stations that orbited HOME. Philadelphia station hung in space, its tri-MAG cannons pointed away from HOME. Its wide bottom was shaped like a cone to reduce the stress of firing all three guns in succession, while living quarters had layered plastel alloy, allowing the denizens a greater view of the vastness of space. Bethlehem had two of the light cruisers moored in her dock for re-supply, the design geared more as a supply station and dock than an orbital battle array. He saw moving points fly across the black canvas, noting them as the returning scout squadron. He could count at least twelve different ships patrolling HOME's growing surface, spanning from the Delphinus class light assault frigates, to the Argo class heavy cruisers, and finally the Midway class heavy carrier. He could spot his Midway out because it was the only one there, as of now. A new one was under construction, and wouldn't be completed or with crew for another seven or eight months. He sighed blowing the hair out of his eyes as he thought of how under-manned he was. Sure, the Russian Republic was sending it's scientists to help out, plus many of the varied work-force that was the backbone of Russia. The Empire of America had sent him the most workers (who's skills were sometimes questionable), and even a small garrison of troops that could be mobilized, if need be. The Kitetsuns had sent three differing villages to work at HOME, though they barely made a difference, he had to admit. All in all the total contribution numbered out in about 500,000 civilians scrambling about to keep HOME in orbit. The soldiering portion of the base was at least 75,000 strong, including the massive spy networks that had been sent out.

"Switch to the planet."

The view screens flicked to the planet. It had a diameter of twice that of Jupiter. It was strange that he had found a dimension like this. The planet would be large enough to host eight or nine Standard Earth populations. It was, all in all, perfect. It allowed him to continue building with near limitless resources, especially with the nearby asteroid belt. He was surprised to find ruins on the planet; monolithic towers or large palaces that had been taken over by the plant life. It was also strange that these places had a reverence to them, almost an ageless wisdom that allowed them to stand as sentinels over the planet. It fed his theories of a precursor race: ruins like these mirrored other famous sites on various places on the Realm planets that he had visited. The wildlife was also strange, to him at least. Wolves, wild cats, and a host of varied predators all hunted in packs, prides, or groups.

Then there was the strange circular wall that enveloped an eighteenth of the planet. But then not much had been explored of it yet.

He was wondering about going down again to investigate the ruins for the fourth time in the last month when the comm. rang.

"Yeah," he said, his thoughts broken.

"Permission to enter, sir?"

He groaned. It was one of the Cadian Officers, probably back again to change the training regime. He rubbed the back of his neck, organizing the scattered files. He sighed, defeated.

"Enter."

The door slid up, revealing the image of a Commisar. His grizzled features made one believe he was always scowling. His black trench-coat brimmed with medals from the Imperium. Of course, those didn't mean a thing here.

"Commander," he said, hands locking into the Aquios, the Symbol of the Double Eagle, "I wish to inform you of our spy that recently returned from Nevada." His translator cut out as he warped his tongue to say Nevada. "No Illuminati presence was detected in that world. I also wish to inform you that we also received word from the Ambassadors."

Jacob watched as the man shifted, obviously waiting for the requested report. He sighed, "And what of it, Commisar?"

He straightened. "The Tau will offer all the support they can; Weapons, Technology, and 5000 of their best Fire Warriors. They said this under a condition though."

"And that would be," Jacob said, eyebrow raised?

"Full support against the Imperium, as well as aid against the growing Tryanid threat, and the forces of Chaos. May I remind you sir," the Commisar continued, determined to put his two cents in, "that we have a Non-Aggression Pact with the Imperium. Perhaps-"

Jacob raised his hand, signaling the Commisar into silence. "That is a dated transmission. You know as well as I do that we are no longer enemies of the Tau Empire. What of the others? Surely, the Eldar see the benefit of alliance."

"The Witches-eh, Eldar-are debating whether to join us or not, although they do plan on sending a Seer to evaluate our position. They are wary, as they should be. The Valden are currently forming an alliance with the Kitetsuns, so we may expect a garrison at any time." He paused, perhaps gathering his thoughts for what he should say next.

"What else?"

"We have had…no contact from the Ork Ambassadors. It is possible that Thrall and his gaurd are dead. I fear that we may have to give up on them…"

Not fucking likely, he thought. Ryan stood, at which time the Commisar stood a little straighter. He cleared his throat, gathering the facts into his mind.

"Commisar," he snapped, "Prepare your men! We will see about this disturbance. You have three hours to arm. Dismissed!"

The Commisar saluted again, turning on his heel out the door. He let go of the breath he had been holding, blowing his hair out of his eyes again. He slumped back into the chair and began to working on the increasing piles of papers.

Twenty minutes later his legs fell asleep, so he decided to take a walk. He didn't care where his journey took him, he just needed to walk. He found himself walking towards the mess, and shrugged. Guess I could use some more coffee, he found himself thinking. He scratched the side of his head as he walked into the room.

"Commander on Deck!"

He looked around, recognizing Alexsi's voice. Against the backdrop, chairs scraped as everyone stood at attention. It startled him a bit, but he cleared his throat and swept his hands behind his back.

"At ease."

The scraping resumed as he spotted Alexsi, nursing a vodka and lime. He waved, motioning that he needed to talk to him. He sat down next to his second and flagged down a waiter for some coffee.

"So, Commander, what brings you from the land of paper work?"

"Coffee," Jacob said, resting his head on the back of the chair, "and I have to prepare for the Adeptus Machinus Tech-priest arriving with the Warhound Titan and the Baneblades. Thought I'd come down and see how things are holding out here…"

Alexsi laughed silently. "You worry to much Komrade General. Everything is fine, we are running at our max capacity. At least as far as I know," he finished, scratching his head. Jacob grunted cracking his neck as a waiter set a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. French vanilla, lot of sugar, little bit of cream, he thought. He looked at the waitress, confused. I just said a regular, how would-

"Your drink, Sir."

He sighed. "Hello, Lillith. Would you care to join us?"

"Most certainly! You know, of course," she said expertly crossing her legs in a seductive way, "That I have been meaning to talk to you about the terrible misunderstanding about our current situation."

Jacob gulped down the coffee, swallowing about half before he stopped. "What situation?"

Alexsi broke in, stammering, "Nothing to worry yourself with, Commander. It is just about Arcadia…" His voice faded, as if controlled by an unforeseen force. He shook his head a moment, as if clearing his thoughts. "Sorry, Söner wanted to put a word in. Let me bring him out." Alexsi closed his eyes, shuddered for a moment, then stared at him with Devil Blue eyes. "We think you should just go yourself. That's how it was with us, and," Söner continued, leaning back, "that's how it should be."

Jacob looked at his watched, gulped down the rest his coffee, muttering, "I'll think about it."

"That's the spirit! See you in a few!" Lillith chided.

Jacob shook his head, moving off to the D-room.

---

He watched as two giant tanks rolled into the bay. They were literal fortresses, armed with three heavy machine guns, two Laser cannons, a mortar, a .74 cal cannon, and a 1.54 cal cannon. He would have hated to take that on himself, let alone let his men get into it. The Imperium called it the Baneblade; he called it a monster. Jacob watched as three of his own American Techs' drooled over the chance to take one apart. A Techpriest Enginseer walked forward, two servitors trailing him. Jacob grimaced at the abominations and begrudgingly walked forward. The priest bowed reverently, servos throughout his body clicking and whirring in the constant din of the D-room.

"By his will, I await your command," he said, still bowing.

"At ease, Enginseer."

He straightened, stamping his wrench-shaped staff on the deck. One of the servitors produced an ornate steel box, prayers and seals stamped around its surface. He gently turned and lifted the case, opening to reveal a stunning pistol. It was an auto pistol, chambered to fire a strange luminous-tipped shells, each about the size of his thumb. He gently lifted the pistol, measured the weight and opened the twin shell loading mechanism. It was rifled, guaranteeing that it would shoot straight. He placed it in a pocket in his coat, and lifted one of the shells.

"What are they tipped with?"

"Vercurium tricyachloride. A deadly acid that burns most biomass it comes into contact with and wreaking havoc on those un-pure to the Emperor."

Jacob nodded and carefully placed the bullets into the custom bandolier. He strapped the twenty rounds around his left boot. Better safe then sorry, he thought.

"So, you are the one who will be staying here to learn more about technology?"

The Techpriest bowed low. "The Machine God gave me a sign. I saw the divine Light of the Emperor, May his Name Shine Forever in Glory, and told the Higher Priests of my order. They were," his voice rose to a cynical pitch, "happy to let me leave."

Jacob smiled, patting the techpriest's shoulder. "Good to know that we have an open mind here. Now, you know we work in ways," he swept his hand around including all the species working on the dock, "that may cause your Elders to have, well, brain failure."

"I am what you would call a rogue, Sor. I always did ask the Death Watch to bring back any Xeno technology that they could lay hands on. There was also an," he paused, "incident, concerning the construction of a safer Sentinel that relied on captured Xeno tech."

"I see. What did you do?"

"I graced two hundred sentinels with cloaking technology stolen from the elder. My superiors were impressed, though fearful of my," he folded his hands around the wrench staff, "abilities."

Jacob nodded, taking a big breath before saying, "You also know that we are in negotiations with the Eldar, as well as other Xenos races. Am I correct in assuming this?"

The Enginseer blinked slowly, and then a small smile crept along his lips. "It would be an honor to the Machine God to bring greater understand such technology, perhaps, even combining it with our own."

"Good to hear that you will respect those who you work with. Speaking of which, your entourage is," he faltered for a moment as he looked back to the abominations of science, "not welcome here. For the cause that, well, we do not have the proper facilities for them."

The Enginseer took his wrench-staff and slammed it on the deck, causing the servitors to enter the portal just as the Warhound Titan's head came through, and the portal closed. "I take my leave of you now, commander," the Enginseer bowed low as he took a step back, his servos whirring as he did. "If there is anything you need-"

"Actually, yes," Jacob stated quickly, interrupting him, "there is. I would like the name of he who comes to learn of the lost technology."

The Enginseer stiffened. He nodded, saying, "Page Yanus, of the House of Mars."

Jacob smiled again, dismissing him to the awaiting tech team. He watched as the portal closed. Se could already see sparks as his techs disassembled one of the Baneblades. He sighed as he began to walk toward the exit.

He wasn't expecting the whirling dervish that was Alastor sprinting towards him in a threatening manner.

---

He looked up at blue sky when he opened his eyes. Jacob blinked. The image of the daylight sky was still there, though the sun wasn't in view. He put his hand to his head, which had been what had awakened him. He sat up, dragging his left leg towards his chest. He wanted to make sure that his leg hadn't been eaten away by the new bullets. Confident that my foot was still apart of my body, I slowly gathered my senses. 'The last thing I could remember was drawing my blade against Alastor, then I was falling…

It clicked in his memory. Söner, Lucifer, and Alastor had ganged up on him and thrown him in a D-Tunnel. Alastor distracted him for a split second while Lucifer had knocked him with some spell. Soner must have used Feedback to throw him into the Tunnel while he was disoriented. Fuck, he thought. They are so dead when I get back. He hefted his body up, cracking his neck. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. There was a forest off to his left (about two, maybe three kilometers, he thought), desert in all directions, with a large city off in the distance. It took him a minute to realize where he was.

He had been thrown into Mobius, where Anthony had been seen last.

"Fuck," Jacob cursed. "Fucking fuckity fuckhead." He reached for Excalibur…

…and gripped air…

He temporarily panicked. He swallowed and took a few breaths. He didn't have Excalibur, so he couldn't get back home until he was found by the D-tracker. Then they would have to align the Tunnel then…

In other words he was stuck here for an indefinite amount of time. Part of the demons plan, one where he was out of the loop.

Again.

He shook his head, kicking up a cloud of dirt with his foot. He wanted to scream, he wanted to lose control, just tear something in half. He calmed himself, cracking his knuckles and switching his music to Gregorian chant. He calmed himself and checked for any side-effects from Lucifer's little stunt. There was nothing that he could detect, so he put it out of his mind. He rubbed the back of his neck, turning to face the distant city. He shrugged, defeated. Might as well go say hello, he thought.

He pulled out the E-92 Capsule Bulma had given him, putting its case back into its pocket. He clicked it, and tossed it on the desert plain. There was a satisfactory thwump when the capsule popped, followed by the squeek of suspension. The streamlined silver chassis gleamed in the sunlight when he approached it. He checked to make sure that it had a full tank, and straddled the seat. He checked his spare blade, attached to the back of the bike. Lucidzier's runes sparkled as he lifted the dwarven weapon from its scabbard. He loving caressed the blade, remembering the RuneFather's friendship offering, and his promise to bring his family to his halls. He slid Lucidzier into the scabbard and gunned the engine.

Zero shifted his balance to his left, dragging Jordan forward into his knee. Jordan winced involuntarily, even though the blow never came.

"C'mon, Jordan! Again!"

He readied himself, shifting his weight to the right. Jordan threw out a roundhouse kick, following up with a reverse back-side kick. Zero went to grab his leg, only to meet Jordan's fist halfway. Zero took the hit, backing off a step from the continued assault. Jordan finished with a upper knife-hand to Zero's protected arm.

"Good! Ba-ro!"