Banshee – The Origins

Chapter 1 – The Attack

Unreal Tournament and all related themes belong to Epic Games and Midway. The story and characters are mine. I do not condone violence for the sake of violence. The characters are works of fiction and should not be used as role-models. However, should someone get their hands on any of the weapons used in this story, please tell me. I'd love to see a weapon from the late 23rd century.

The girl had just gotten home, watching the powered door slide shut behind her as she stepped out of her shoes. "Beatrice? Is that you, dear?" She hated that name. It was so… girly. The flowery voice that had called to her came from the top of the stairs next to the main entrance. Despite the tone, she knew her mother wanted something. She always wanted something when she acted nice.

With a sigh, the 12 year old girl called back "Yes, Mother, it's me." Her tone was one of mild annoyance. She bit back the question of what the woman wanted. She didn't really bother waiting for a response, taking off her brown jacket, hanging it in the hall closet. It was then that she noticed there was a third coat hanging there. She lived alone with her mother, and it was a man's coat. This got another sigh from her. She'd brought another man home. Doubtless he was some smooth talking man that'd last a few days before she moved on.

"Be a dear, would you? Bring us up some drinks. You know my usual." There was a pause, and then the flowery voice was heard again "Make it two." The girl sighed again. She had brought someone home.

Her mother's "usual" was a gin and tonic double with a twist of lime and a dash of something bright red and sweet the girl had never learned to pronounce. She headed to the large kitchen and made two of these drinks, and set about bringing them up. The house was very large, and very old. More of a mansion, it was a relic from some 100 years or so before her time. Her father had been an investor in some mining company that struck it big. When he died of an illness when she was still a baby, her mother had gotten all of it; the money, the estate, everything. She then proceeded to squander it all.

The girl finally reached her mother's bedroom, and pushed the door open. What she saw made her cover her eyes, nearly spilling the drinks. Her mother was laying on the bed, stark naked, pale skin bare for all the world to see. "Oh, God! MOTHER!"

The woman turned to her daughter, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder, and looked at her daughter. "Oh, there you are dear. Now don't be such a nuisance. Come here and give me my drink. Don't forget to give one to Malcolm, too." She gestured to the person beside her, who sat up in the bed to look at the young girl.

The man was as nude as the girl's mother, but his skin was much darker, like the color of coffee. He was very well muscled, and as he moved, the muscles rippled with great power. When he looked at her, she saw brown eyes that looked hard, though not mean. He was smiling, too, hidden slightly under a full beard of grizzly black hair, matching the short fuzz atop his head. He said nothing as he took the drink, just nodding to her, and then sipped at the concoction.

She must have been staring, for after a moment, her mother's voice roused her from her thoughts "Beatrice, don't gawk at the man. You've delivered the drinks, now go along and give your mother some time with her friend." The girl would have laughed if she didn't fear what punishment she'd get for it. "Friend." Right. The man was her friend in bed for a while, then likely forgotten when she found someone more interesting.

She sighed and walked off, heading to her own room, trying to forget the image of her mother naked. This was easy, as she thought instead of the man named Malcolm. He seemed different from most of the men she brought home. Something about him was hard, and it wasn't his muscles, or his manhood that made her think this. His eyes were filled with something dark. Maybe he was a soldier of some sort. It would explain his muscles.

Once in her room, she stripped out of her school uniform, tossing the thing into the corner. She was glad to be out of the blue dress and silver, girly-looking shirt. She slipped instead into a tight fitting pair of black leather pants and a similarly colored shirt, torn along the bottom to show her pale belly. Her blond hair was pulled out of the standard fashion for her school and pulled, instead, into a tight ponytail. She looked at herself in the mirror, then. She hated that she looked so much like her mother, all the way down to the blond hair and green eyes, but at least this way she looked less girly.

The girl made her way back through the old house, hating the eye-hurting red carpet and wooden walls. She hated everything about her home, her family, her school, where she lived. The planet was some kind of rich resort world or something. Wealthy families paid lots of money to live next to other wealthy families. Most of the children of this place were high-brow asshats who looked down on everyone else. The girl hated them, too.

She heard sounds from her mother's room as she walked by; sounds that meant her mother was getting fucked roughly, though the moans were enough that people outside likely knew she loved that rough play. The girl blanched at the sound, and headed down the stairs. Grabbing her coat and her hoverboard, she headed out into the cool autumn air. Her mother wouldn't be happy when she realized she'd gone, but she never was happy when she snuck out like this. She'd yell and probably smack her once or twice, and that would be it.

The young girl went to meet friends. She hung out with what most would call the 'wrong type of crowd.' They smoked greenstash, a type of mild drug that was very illegal, though easily procured. They were the kind that vandalized public property, spraying gang tags, or bashing windows of hovercars. Sometimes they got into fights with other gangs. She'd become quite a good fist fighter because of that, despite her short stature and young age. The leader of the little gang, a 16 year old redhead who called herself Nitro, had been teaching her how to wield a pistol recently, as well.

Today, however, they were just at a park, meeting by the emptied pool with hoverboards to do tricks, or watch the others do tricks while they got high. She spent the remainder of the day with her friends, until it was dark. She parted company with the group and hopped on her hoverboard to head back home.

The sun had set by this point, and stars were blinking to life in the sky, obscured by the lights along the street. She was taking her time in getting home, knowing her mother was either still fucking her new 'friend,' or passed out. Either way, there wasn't much reason to hurry home.

She had stopped to look up at the sky again. That's when she saw it; movement of some sort. It looked, at first, like one of the stars was moving, then 6, then a dozen. The stars got bigger, and brighter, and after a moment, burst into streaks of flame. They were ships of some sort, descending into the atmosphere. Why would there be ships coming in the middle of the night, and why so many? They were getting closer, too.

Something was wrong. They weren't heading to the space dock, but the city itself. She tried to make out their outlines, but it was hard to see a ship so high in the sky at night. All she did see was their engine trails. That is, until one of them passed in front of the full moon. That's when she felt fear, true fear. The body of the ship was long and pointed like an arrowhead. Trailing behind were several metallic tendrils, giving the ship the appearance of a giant, metallic squid.

She knew the design only from text books. It was a Necris ship. She'd heard about the Necris. They were ghostly-white humanoids, looked like zombies with cybernetic parts. They invaded planets to expand their empire, using something called 'Nano-Black' to corrupt planets. She had no idea what that was, but it wasn't good.

The Necris also used mercenaries for invasions, the worst of which were the Skaarj race. The Skaarj were reptilian beasts, just smart enough to follow orders, but dumb enough to control with little effort by the Necris. They were also brutally vicious.

Questions were racing though her head, namely where she should go and who she should tell. She didn't have to worry about who to tell, however, as moments later, a dozen beams of searing light shot down from the sky, striking different locations. Houses, streetlights, buildings all around caught fire as the beams shot down again and again. She had to dive to the side to avoid being burned alive as one of those beams swept down the street near her. She still felt the incredible heat from the brilliant beam of pure inferno.

The girl scrambled to her feet and found her hoverboard lying a few feet away. She grabbed it and hopped on, kicking the thing into its highest speed and headed back to her house. Along the way, she saw other houses burning, some were completely destroyed. People were running everywhere in a panic, mostly screaming, some in pain as they burned. There were a few burnt remains along some parts of the road, people who had been caught by surprise in one of the blasts. She had to swerve to avoid one of those blasts as it strafed across the road in front of her.

Finally, she reached her street. There were fires all over, but her house looked to be in good condition. There was some smoke, and a little fire on the roof, but it must have been from one of the surrounding buildings. The girl leaped off the hoverboard and barreled through the front door as it slid open. "Mom?!" She didn't hear anything. This worried her. She rushed up the stairs and burst through her mother's door, and was met with the muzzle of a pistol pointed at her head.

The gun was lowered a moment later, and Malcolm, still in his nude glory, let out a sigh of relief. "It's only you, girl." His voice was so deep that it seemed to shake her. He pulled her into the room and shut the door. Once in the room, she saw her mother, still nude, lying on the bed, though breathing. Before she could say anything, Malcolm spoke "She's alright, don't worry. Just passed out from the booze." The girl let out a sigh. She should have known.

"Mister Malcolm… what's going on?" the girl asked, vainly trying to wake her mother up.

The man shook his head "I don't know, but it looks like an invasion. Necris ships, but their aim is too bad for the Necris themselves. Probably a merc force." He was pulling on his clothing as he spoke, a green jump suit with some golden symbol on the arms. The symbol looked like a human skull in a circle with wings. Military of some kind, or maybe he was a mercenary, too.

Malcolm looked back at the girl, who was still trying to get her mother out of the bed. He holstered the pistol in his recently attached belt, and walked over. The girl looked up as he approached, and suddenly felt even shorter. She stood only at 5 feet 3 inches, but it might as well have been 2 feet next to him. He must have been at least 6 and a half feet tall, maybe 7. He brushed her aside, and then bent down, picking up the naked woman on the bed. "Help me get her dressed so we can get you two to safety."

The girl narrowed her eyes "Safety my ass! They're attacking my home! Sure I never really felt much for the place, but it's my turf!" She was getting a rather bland colored shirt and pants out of her mother's closet while she said all this. She may argue leaving, but she wouldn't argue about having her mother no longer naked in front of her.

The man didn't laugh, or do much of anything, other than take the clothing and begin to dress the still unconscious woman "Turf, huh? Well, kid, those people out there aren't another gang. They're heavily armed fighters who wouldn't think twice to shoot a little girl down if she got in the way." He hefts the now clothed woman over his shoulder, taking his pistol back in hand again "Besides, someone needs to stick by your mother and protect her while I find us a way to get off this rock."

The girl was suddenly struck by an idea "You mean a ship? I have an idea, but you'll have to wait here a minute." Before the man could argue, the girl ran from the room, darting down the hall in into her own. She rummaged around through the piles of clothing and random bits of junk lying around the room. After a moment of her search, she found what she was looking for: a small keycard with some family crest upon the front. She ran back to Malcolm, who she found at the stairs, carrying her mother down them. When he looked at her, she held up the keycard "I know where we can get a ship."