"Perhaps it is our own fault, that we disappeared. Perhaps it was a mistake to slaughter the conquerors, but what is done is done. We cannot save them now. But we can remake their legacy, to recreate their vision, of the glorious, golden empire. So fear us, you dastardly creatures! You may have won now, but we are patient. We can bid our time, until then you lower your guard, forget the ways of war. We will be hiding just within the shadows, poised, but not striking. We will be there when you least expect us, and take back what's ours!"
-Anonymous repeating frequency intercepted near Pluto
A/N The prologue is just to introduce the characters. You can completely skip over it, but might be confused a bit later on as to who is whom.
PROLOGUE – All Hell to Pay
He hated this world; why were there so many bottom feeders here?
Around were the grimy machinery that had been put into service a century ago and the ragged people who survive on worms and each other. The buildings were too tall, oppressing over the surface like giants. Even above the buildings was the dust storm, the ever-flowing dust storm, that covered the entire surface of the planet 24/7. Of course, this was Saturn, after all, but it still gave quite the impression of being suffocated.
Green City, they called it. How ironic. They might as well had called it Dust City. Oh wait, then every city on this gas planet would be called Dust City. He snorted to himself, drawing the looks a few nearby. He wasn't concerned at all by the series of nasty glares received. They would be foolish to attack him, as he had on a mercenary armor, and frankly, more weapons visible than an arms dealer would dare to display on his shelves.
A swirl of dust blew into his face. Even through the mask, he coughed as the granules entered his mouth. Such was the hard life on Saturn. With the entire atmosphere consisting of blowing dust particles, every city contained on its perimeters repulsion machines that kept the choking air from completely burying the city. Unfortunately, machines had limits, which meant sometimes a little stream of dust got in every now and then, and then it was up to the local security to use their big vacuums to decontaminate entire blocks.
Speaking of local security.
Two of them, the police, as they called them in the inner system, stalked by. Their bodies were completely sealed in armor and glowing lights, like a cheap joke. Huge rifles were slung over their shoulders and pistols on their hips. However, despite all they looked, he knew their armor offered as much resistance as paper; after all, he'd done some work himself to test that.
They gave him a steady glare, which he did not return. Like territorial animals, they took eye contact as a sort of challenge to be arrest. They patrolled past, and he snuck a peek at them before hurrying onward. Nothing would please him more than getting off this dust bowl as quickly as possible.
Finally. Within sight, just a bit farther away, sat a glamorous palace. Beautiful domes and arches made it seem almost illusionary and alienated it from the rest of the rusty metal and worn machinery. Within lived his target: a certain Senator Martin Holt. His mission: capture Senator Holt, alive, and not missing any limbs. Piece of cake.
Only problem: the twenty-foot tall wall that separated the beauty from the wasteland. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem any longer soon.
"Jenny, hit it."
An explosion rocked the street. People dove to the ground, out of fear or instinct, he didn't know. But he brushed them aside as he strode forward, his rifle already in hand. The first guards, wearing white, like the mansion, stumbled out of the smoke, still trying to arm themselves. They were shot down like practice targets, by a stream of heated red bolts.
"Good work," he commented.
"Thank you," came the reply, walking next to him. Here, his favorite explosives expert in the whole wide universe, Jennifer Davis, and personally, a hottie. He'd met her back when he served in army, when she was a field explosives expert. Rockets, grenades, EMPs, tactical nukes, you name it, she got it, and knew exactly how to build it from scratch. He was lucky she was on his side, or else he would have never made it out of that angry mob without her flash bomb. Good ole' times.
"What took you so long, Foster?" Someone charged out of the gloom and bashed a guard's head in. It was almost comical to see, a large man almost twice as big as the pathetic soldiers the senator hired, throwing people around as though they were ragdolls. His blade cut through the cheap armor with precision and efficacy, killing one after another. "Thought me and the ladies here would have to start the party without you."
Sean Greene, big guy, good with swords, maces, his bare hands, and one of his best buddies. He was reliable as they go, mercenaries and privateers, but fiercely loyal, to his family, whom was on Mars, to his teammates, to their mission. He was the rock, literally, bouldering through enemies like a bowling ball.
"I can hear you, you know?" buzzed the intercom. A red targeting line that had itself on his shoulder disappeared as the sniper toppled over from where he nest on top of the mansion. "If you want me to keep these snipers off of you, you better watch your mouth."
Carolyn Jenkins, tactical sniper, expert shot with snipers, semi-automatics, rocket launchers, orbital strikes, and anything she could get her hands on. When he first met her, she had quite the temper. He was glad Jennifer's more mild personality was rubbing off on her.
"Calm down, woman! I–"
"I will not calm down! Why are you always–"
"Are you still sore about that comment I made on your cake?"
"I swear, if you–"
"Less talking, more fighting," he heard himself say, though he was grinning from ear to ear. He tossed his rifle to Jennifer, who caught it with a natural grace. From his holsters he drew out a pair of sleek pistols. They were projectile, but that didn't matter, as their projectiles could punch through solid metal. A guard, armed with an energy shield and an electric pike, charged at him, and died, as the bullet bypassed the shield completely. "Idiots," he muttered.
The three of them, with Jenkins upstairs to support them with sniper fire, barged through the mansion door. Inside were more guards, all of whom scattered as Sean almost ran them over. Foster cursed as another guard pointed his rifle at the big man and quickly ended him with a loud bam.
"Sean! Activate your shield!"
"Right."
The panels of orange surrounded Sean suddenly, and a barrage of glowing bolts shot into the shield and were subsequently absorbed. He shook his head to himself. Sometimes the man had too much fun and forget that death was always watching.
"Jenkins! How many more are we expecting?"
"Uh, thermo scan shows about a couple dozen or so still in the house, and a lot more coming from outside."
"And the target?"
"There are one times person in the uppermost story. I would guess that's him."
"Guide us!" he screamed, as he shot down another soldier, whose energy bolts melted harmlessly into his body armor. The resistance ahead was waning, but that didn't mean the job was any easier. More guards rushed in from the back, ducking behind exquisite furniture and taking potshots at them. They were not very well trained, because half of the shots went to burning the expensive walls or breaking the intricate lights.
"You got it. There are only a few more guards ahead of you, but you should be able to go around them. Take a right from where you are and head upstairs."
To the right was a double door, so fancy it was made of wood. Who uses wood nowadays?!
"Sean!" He marked the door on his helmet HUD.
Sean nodded immediately, and threw trampled his latest victim to the ground. "Yar!" the big man yelled as he smashed head-first through the wood. It broke on contact. His charge carried him, stumbling, into the stairs. "This way!" he pointed, up.
The pressure was beginning to build from the back, where a storm of glowing bolts flew through the air. "Thomas!" Jennifer was waving at him from within the smashed doors. His rifle, a little awkward in her hands, forced the soldiers to duck as the walls around their faces exploded.
He fired the last two rounds of the clip, then took off like the devil was on his heels. Jennifer tossed something into his face. He grabbed it out of instinct, and with a single glance, tossed it from behind the back of the still-ducking soldiers. He flinched at the explosion, but managed to not trip on the stairs. They, too, were made of wood. Seriously, who did this guy think he was?
They encounter minimal resistance, in the form of a table placed at right around a corner so that anyone coming by would bump into it, and the terribly colored carpet so blinding Sean tore it up with his sword as he went along. They each had a set of trip mines, curtsy of Jennifer, which caused intermittent explosions a long way behind them.
At last, following Jenkins' directions, they arrived, in front of yet another wooden door, this one decorated with curvy lines of gold. Thomas blew off the cheap lock without hesitation and burst into the room, pistols raised. He had not expected Senator Holt to be in the middle of cleanup, where papers pooled in haphazard rivers, all over the floor. Fortunately, the senator surrendered, rather quickly, too. Unfortunately, they were about to be caught.
And it was up to the old man to tell them so. "You will never get away with this! My men will be here in a second." Another explosion shook the mansion, and the senator flinched.
Thomas stared at him menacingly, though the expression was wasted, as he could not see through the mask. "Oh, don't worry. We already have." Then, into the intercom, "Jenkins! Extraction?"
"Over your head."
Then the roof exploded. Well, more like shattered. The fancy plaster peeled to reveal a ship, hovering just a few feet above the destroyed ceiling. An underside-mounted turret fired through the open door, forcing the soldiers, who had already caught up, to duck.
"Let's go."
An invisible forced gripped his entire body. He would never get used to the feeling. With the senator's shaking arm in hand, he stared into the blue light as it brightened, and disappeared.
