Mottled Grey... Not everything in the Locust-Human war is so black or white. Rated Mature.
The Nexus' kitchens smelt of putrid flesh of rotting riftworms that the Butchers had deserted to tend to the heat of the stoves. Scorm, a Theron Guard winced as his boot skidded over a patch of wet grime on the tiles. Skorge, the Locust equivalent to the Pope snapped him a malicious look. Together they marched in silence through the humid cellar that was the royal kitchen. Scorm was to be promoted to bodyguard of the Queen, a prestigious job indeed. All the Locust wanted to be nearer the Queen out of patriotism, or pure fanaticism. Several Butchers thudded into the archway entering the kitchens, when they saw Skorge they instantly bowed. All the Locust Priest did was hiss and raise a hand lazily blessing the kitchens by drawing a symbol with his hand. The Butchers parted to make way for him and Scorm as they passed. Once out of the kitchens they two took an elevator ride straight down to the Nexus Hall. Fifty Theron Guards lined the way to a large wooden door as Skorge passed they instinctively bowed, however once he had passed they snarled and glared at Scorm. Amongst his brothers who were guards, Scorm was seen as the most unworthy of a promotion to the Queen's entourage. The large wooden doors creaked open revealing a torch lit path leading towards a throne at the back end of an even larger hall than the one the two just left. On this throne sat the Queen. Haunting beautiful compared the lumpy barbaric beasts she commanded the Locust Queen looked like a human but with a grey skin complexion and a flowing gown. She nodded once to Skorge from afar, and his pace quickened. Scorm did his best to keep up with his leader while trying not to get anymore sweaty by jogging. After nearly ten seconds of fast-walking, the pair reached the Queen. Now it was their turn to bow. Mid way through the bow, Skorge slapped Scorm's stomach with the back of his hand and hissed. Scorm realized his mistake and bowed lower. Bowing low in front of the Queen was a symbol of how high they rated their Queen; it was polite to honor this age old tradition.
"You may stand." The Queen said, her harsh cold voice cutting through the silence. There was no echo in the room, but the emptiness made her voice louder than she probably intended. Scorm spine shivered as he stood up. Skorge stood at once and moved off to the side letting the Queen inspect her new bodyguard.
"My last guard died on voyage to the surface commanding a legion of like-minded and equally devoted individuals such as yourself," The Queen gestured to Scorm, her voice much less colder, but still emotionless, "He was much stronger, taller, and more capable then you I imagine. But, only time will tell. As of now the horde acknowledges your new position by my side, but I do not."
At this moment the Queen jumped up from her throne and trotted down the small steps to circle around Scorm. Scorm stood still, petrified of whether he should follow her with her eyes, straighten up more, look forward or wipe the beads of sweat from his brow.
The Queen gingerly stroked the left shoulder pad of Scorm's maroon ceremonial armor.
"If I am to entrust my life in you, I ask that you lead your brothers in a campaign against the humans. Word has reached us that they plan to hit us at the place they call Landown. Their flying machines will be transporting ammunition, explosives… and support. Get a Reaver, find your team and hit them hard." There was a five second interval where the Queen glared at Scorm, "Actually, Skorge… He shall use your Hydra."
Skorge who had remained in the shadows of the throne room hissed angrily, the Queen did not look at him but waved a hand to silence him.
"If he can master such a rogue creature, he will be more promising than his predecessor. Now go."
After the briefest of all flying lessons, a reluctant Skorge taught Scorm to ride the Hydra. The beast was enormous; easily five times the size of even the strongest Reaver, four massive arms, and a mounted Troika on a large helmet which covered its head only leaving its mouth visible. Scorm was then introduced to his squad of beast riders each with a drone for company and a Reaver per pair. Skorge was quick to leave, it was clear he was angry at Scorm, perhaps out of reluctance of him getting a promotion, or him getting to ride his personal pet. It was soon after, twelve Reavers jumped into the air and followed Scorm as he rode the Hydra through the catacombs of Nexus out into the sky above the surface, and they were now in human territory.
It would be a three hour ride to Landown, the winter weather was unpleasant to say the least. The Reavers could have been safe flying below cloud level, but because of the Hydra's size, Scorm found it best to fly through the clouds to minimize visibility. Finally below the white wisps of vapor the riders caught a glimpse of the human machines, King Ravens they were called. They numbered seven helicopters flying in a 'V' formation towards the snow-capped mountains. Scorm signaled for his squad to fly in closer, however they remained hesitant and kept a distance in case they made the Hydra uncomfortable. It was a vicious creature unable to tell friend or foe.
"ATTACK!" Scorm bellowed pointing down. At once all twelve Reavers dropped like stones, although still controlled by their riders. In the minutes that ensued Scorm would face the battle for his life.
Private Pete O'Crem was no stranger to dealing with the Locusts. He'd spent the past month in a bottleneck scenario between two Locust armies in Lanmouth a small village a few miles from Landown with the men riding the KRs. They had a mission to evacuate all civilians from the village and get them to Jacinto. They had failed, all the civilians were killed in the gunfire from Locust. Hell, they even spent a week trying to take down a Corpser that kept cropping up every night. Finally they found a gap in the Locusts onslaught and called in the KRs to pick them, the ammunitions, and supplies from Lanmouth. They were then told they would be assigned to the Landown operation. Best said, none of the COG soldiers were pleased. O'Crem looked out of the side of his KR, Roger-Five-Ten, to his side were body bags containing the bodies, limbs, carcasses of the civilians for burial detail if and when they get to Jacinto. He was lucky in that despite him and his pilot who went by the same callsign as the vehicle there was no one else to disturb him from reflecting on recent events. The lack of distraction may have been the reason he was quick to react when he saw neighboring KR Roger-eight-twenty-two spiral past him ablaze in orange flames.
"Pilot! We're under attack!" O'Crem bellowed, the pilot had already banked a hard right just as hail of bullets glided past, followed by a Reaver. As the helicopter turned half a circle, Private O'Crem looked out the other side of the aircraft to see the full aerial battle. COG soldiers and KR's fired rounds at the Reavers while the latter flew past firing mortars taking out the troop bays or propellers sending the vehicles into an irreversible spiral. At this point, a second Reaver came into view. It charged the Roger-Five-Ten, sticking its ugly head into O'Crem's compartment. Instinctively the soldier reached for his bolo grenade, took one leap to the beast, tagged the explosives in its mouth and kicked the Reaver's head away from the KR. Within two seconds the Reaver had turned to flee, the Beast Rider try to steer around, and the Drone mindlessly dive off before all three were torn into bloody pieces by the grenade detonating.
"Damn good defending their Private!" The Pilot cooed, "Try not to arm explosives on my bird, just 'case you miss kicking it off."
Private O'Crem reached for his Lancer Rifle and aimed at a passing Reaver that had just ambushed another KR, grabbed one of the soldiers and tossed him out. His screams could be heard over the crossfire and noise of the helicopter and Reavers. After a minute all the Reavers were dead, save one which fled. However only two KRs remained. Just when all seemed quiet…
"SHIT!" O'Crem's pilot shouted.
A monstrous beast, more terrifying than any Reaver the Private ever saw flew into Roger-Five-Ten. The cockpit window shattered, glass impaling the pilot. By the time O'Crem reached him, the pilot had glass shards in his eye, mouth, neck and upper chest, blood was everywhere. O'Crem leant over the dead pilot and took the controls of the KR. He had only memories of watching pilots fly as experience, which served him well as he steered the KR out of free fall. However he now found himself in a thick mist. There was a loud bang and a shudder as metal from the other remaining KR collided on the side of O'Crem's. The bastard must have flown past him and got to them he thought. It occurred to him all his comrades had died but O'Crem did not have time to lament as a large tentacle-like arm wrapped round the damaged cockpit of Roger-Five-Ten. The Hydra, had caught up with him, grappled the aircraft and dragged it through the air releasing it once the aircraft had been turned upside down. O'Crem looked in horror as he saw boulders break through the fog. The KR skidded into the rocks; snow filled the wreckage as it burrowed through the foothills of a mountain, hit a large rock, flipped once, and landed upright. By some miracle the KR didn't explode, but it was rendered useless.
Private O'Crem crawled out of the cockpit window, his rifle first as he slid down the ruins of the aircraft onto the snow. His light blue standard COG armor was blooded and dented as ferociously in the past minutes then it had been in the past month. The sound of the Hydra's growl screamed overhead, above the fog as it flew away. However another sound of thudding footprints was heard. O'Crem looked up to see a heavily armored Locust Theron Guard wielding an identical Lancer strolling towards him. Despite the idyllic setting of snow settled on grass, cold but not windy weather, the sight of this humanoid demon walking towards him, while he himself was helpless as the scariest sight O'Crem would ever see. He grunted pushed himself from the ground, stumbles towards the calm-looking Locust and revved the chainsaw bayonet under his Lancer. The Theron Guard did the same. The weapons clashed. Sparks rained down on both warriors as they held their weapons in a struggle between an offensive and defensive stand. Not once did either opponent take their eyes off the other persons. The unbearable grating sound of the metal bayonets grinding echoed throughout the snowy valley. O'Crem was getting weaker as the duel between the Lancers wavered ever closer to his face. The Theron Guard smirked, as if he was putting minimal effort into the fight.
Scorm had this clinched. The weak human would soon collapse under his own weapon from force, there he would be sawed into bloody heaps on guts, bones, organs and rags. All of a sudden a fury of sparks hurled into Scorm's black eyes. He recoiled as he couldn't see. There the human forced his weapon down onto Scorm's tiring arm, his own Lancer saving himself from the jagged spinning chainsaw. Scorm swung a wild punch, hitting the COG soldier in the chest plate when it was aimed for the head. The soldier spun round, exiting the chainsaw duel before recomposing himself and raising his weapon yet again as Scorm leapt forward for a surprise attack. The bayonet duel commenced again. At once, both Scorm and the human leaned their weapons to the side away from their bodies. There the human kicked Scorm in the chin. He grunted in pain, his jaw dislocated. Scorm quickly stomped on the butt of the human's weapon unintentionally disarming himself aswell as the COG soldier in the process. Now both unarmed the two swung punches and kicks at one another in a desperate attempt to knock the other out before they had a chance to knock them out. Scorm had an opportunity. As he side stepped the human's punch, Scorm clasped his hands on the human's skull. He raised the bastard up, applying pressure as he did so. His enemy screamed and writhed in pain. Scorm's hands shook as they struggled the crack the man's skull, blood already trickled down his palms frothing out of the human's ears. Then, the sound of revving started again. Scorm looked round. Out of the mist Skorge appeared, blue cape flailing and spinning his dual chainsaw staff. Scorm was met with a look of anger and new the Skorge was not running at him to help kill the COG soldier. Scorm threw the human away, rolled to his right and picked up one of the two Lancers. With Skorge definitely targeting him, Scorm threw himself at his new opponent.
Private O'Crem was, as his boot camp trainer said, 'Confused as fuck' about the two Locust having their own chainsaw duel. The pain in his head kept on refusing him the will to stand back up. He managed to reach the lone weapon left on the snow and rise to a kneeling position. He glanced up at the two Locusts to see that the newcomer had kicked the other away and was staring at him. O'Crem didn't know any Locust speak, but he knew that look translated as 'You're next'. O'Crem had fought hard this far, spent a month in hell and was not prepared to die at the hands of some dreadlock-haired fool with a flashy staff. He revved his bayonet once again, black smoke billowing out of the weapon as he joined the fray again. This was now a three-way fight.