Chapter 1
"Dammit Rich, GET DOWN!" Jake yelled as he abruptly shoved a protesting Rich out of the way. Richard Isahn tumbled aside just as a stream of hyperkinetic bullets streaked by, the heat generated from their passage scorching the ends of his medium length, aquamarine hair.
Jake leapt back into a defensive posture, after deftly tossing a few of the deadly throwing daggers he kept hidden all over his person. Although no scream or other telltale sounds of incapacitation were heard, the gunfire died just as suddenly as it had began.
Breathing heavily, Jake exchanged a hasty glance with Rich, his novice partner and also a member of the Hunter's Guild. Recognizing that Richard wasn't exactly sure how to proceed, Jake took the lead once more and peered cautiously over the stack of contraband military crates that had served as their cover.
Just as he'd thought. The gunman, an imposingly large human male, had been hit squarely between the eyes by one of Jake's deadly throwing knives, and now slumped lifelessly against the warehouse wall. Tentatively, Jake looked around, his sensitive numan ears alert for any further signs of the enemy. Richard, for his part, gathered himself and stood once Jake motioned the coast was clear. Grasping his lightweight but deadly carbon sword tightly in one gloved hand, Rich followed his partner deeper into the inner corridors of the supposedly abandoned warehouse. After several days of searching, they'd finally discovered the whereabouts of a group of criminals believed responsible for the theft of a shipment of military goods. While the Motavian Military (not to be confused with the armed forces of the actual blue-furred Motavians themselves) was drawing upon its own agents and resources, the reputation of the Hunter's Guild was impressive as far as completed missions went, and so the Military High Command contracted the Guild for this particular incident, as the recovery of the stolen goods was considered top priority.
However, the Hunter's Guild and the military had never really gotten along, and it was clear that by even contacting the Guild that High Command was desperate. Therefore, it was determined, after careful consideration of the military's consistent refusal for aid in the past, that rather than send their best Hunters on this mission, the Guild would send… Jake the numan and his human companion, the fledgling Hunter Isahn. While capable of getting the job done, Jake was notorious for wasting time in a variety of creative ways, and half of his missions he completed almost by accident. Richard Isahn was a promising recruit but not enough that his training was given top-priority, thus he was partnered with Jake, the fact that no one else was even willing to work with the flippant numan notwithstanding.
Jake had gotten uncharacteristically serious when he'd come across rumors of the Inquisition being involved in the theft; although Isahn wasn't clear on the specifics, it seemed Jake had some kind of grudge against them which he refused to discuss. Although never having knowingly met an Inquisitor, they did not sound like pleasant folk to Richard. Since their existence was first made public a few months prior, shortly after the Great Light's return, it seemed as though each day brought news of yet another tragedy wrought by these fanatics.
Word of the Great Light's return had quickly spread throughout Algo, and at first uproarious celebrations were thrown in every city and town. Then, however, news of the Great Light having destroyed the workers restoring New Palma had reached the shocked ears of Algo's citizens. They could only watch as The Great Light proceeded to slowly and methodically eradicate the asteroid belt, and any hope for Palma's eventual restoration. There were mixed reactions to this news. Religious leaders had proclaimed the Great Light was here to punish the citizens of Algo for their various sins and neglect of their Creator, and for their arrogance in thinking they could recreate something only the Great Light could. Gushing with adulation, they prayed daily along with their flock for the Great Light to discipline them for their failures.
Others were frightened, and a sense of betrayal was prevalent among them. Not wanting themselves, their families and friends to be "punished" for what they saw as unfair reasons, they spurned the messages of the Church, and waited in defiance for whatever the Great Light had in store for them. Reportedly, it was due to the attitude of citizens such as these that the Inquisition was formed.
The United Church of the Great Light had unintentionally spawned an underground movement known as the "Inquisition of Holy Reunion," where more fanatical members of the Church would don white robes and a mask, then prey on those not completely devoted to receiving the Great Light's divine message, and forcing these unfortunate citizens to see the error of their ways with a variety of cruel methods. The Motavian Government increased law enforcement in response, but the members of the Inquisition were many, and they learned to continue their activities with the utmost discretion.
The Hunter's Guild had struggled during the long peacetime, and its few active members mostly settled for solving smaller cases, such as dispatching the occasional biomonster that had proven unstable and unable to adapt to the environment it had been designed for. Lately, however, the underground Inquisition had proven to be enough of a threat that the Central Motavian Government had contracted the Guild to assist in the investigation and apprehension of any suspected Inquisitors. Curiously, biomonster attacks had also increased in both frequency and viciousness within the past few months. Deemed essential for the artificial ecosystem of Motavia, certain biomonsters had been allowed to roam free after the defeat of the Profound Darkness a millennia earlier, after being behaviorally modified to be much more docile, of course. Lately, their behavior had changed for the worse, however. The fact that they had become more aggressive since the Great Light's return was almost too much of a coincidence.
Luckily, Jake and Isahn had managed to avoid contact with any biomosters; so far it had only been other sentient beings trying to kill them. Although the thieves' hideout had been discovered, and the weapon crates found, the mission was still not going well. Much to Jake's chagrin, most of the crates were found empty.
Well, looks like I found one of the weapons, Jake thought sardonically as he kicked the corpse of the gunman that had been firing at them just a moment ago. The man slumped to the side, his dangerously illegal weapon clattering harmlessly to the ceramocrete warehouse floor. Richard took a long, mildly disgusted look toward the corpse and watched with beginner's interest as Jake searched the dead man's body. Finding a wafer-thin keycard of questionable origin, Jake proceeded to feed the card into a slot mounted on the heavily-armored warehouse door separating them from the inner chambers, which at one point had housed the offices that oversaw the daily operation of the now-derelict warehouse.
As the heavy door unlocked with an audible click, Rich pulled it open while Jake almost somersaulted inside, twin daggers at the ready. While most Numan fighters favored claws, perhaps out of tradition, Jake was in the minority that preferred daggers, although he wielded them with deadly efficiency.
Mentally preparing himself, Richard slid inside the dark room, ready to back his senior partner up with the fury of his blade-or so he hoped. Raising his sword, which was of a generic Aiedo manufacture, Rich poised himself, ready for whatever the enemy could throw at him. His eyes quickly widened as he realized that he hadn't been quite as ready as he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, Isahn noticed Jake attempting to creep behind the cover of an old corroded desk.
Before them, a hulking mechanism that resembled the offspring of an industrial slave droid and a drunken locusta approached on four thick legs, its two outstretched arms mounted with heavy blast cannons that could only be of military manufacture. The single, malevolently glowing red eye flashed twice in recognition of the intrusion, and the machine groaned into life, raising its cannons into attack position almost immediately. The robot was less than five meters away, and behind it Rich noticed signs of frantic movement in the room beyond. Although barely able to clear the ceiling, the machine had obviously been able to squeeze itself through the narrow doorway, most likely to cover the escape of the suspected thieves.
Jake noticed this as well, and motioned for Richard to cover him using his own brand of Hunter sign language (which consisted primarily of pointing). Acknowledging Jake's order, Richard knew it was time to prove his worth. This was only his third mission, although it was by far the most serious yet; the previous two missions had him tracking down an escaped felon and then playing detective as a high-profile socialite was convinced her husband had been cheating on her and desired proof. The husband had been, of course, but Jake took advantage of the opportunity and intentionally withheld the information for a few days, as he'd been hoping to use that time to get to know the lady better.
As with most of Jake's plans involving women, it failed miserably. When it came to missions, however, the numan at least partially knew what he was doing. Jake darted forward in an attempt to roll past the large gap between the robots two pairs of legs, but with typical robotic precision the machine readied itself to blast the Hunter into bloody scraps.
Richard wasn't about to let that happen. With his off-hand outstretched, Isahn felt the ethereal energy know as STE well up inside of him like a volcano ready to erupt, and with uncommon ease allowed it to be released in a specific form and direction. In this instance, the Foie technique he used compressed then ignited the oxygen in the air, forming a sort of fireball that screamed toward its target. Although the robot was generally heat-resistant, the Foie technique was nearly as hot as plasma, and when the red blaze of energy hit the machine, it staggered backward. The Foie blast had hit the machine squarely in what passed for a head, immediately dissolving that malignant red eye and hopefully damaging other critical components.
As Richard raised his sword to take advantage of the machine's incapacitation, Jake successfully tumbled between the machine's legs, somehow avoiding dripping bits of molten metal in the process. Wasting no time, the numan hurried into the back room, where the culprits had been busily preparing their escape. Isahn leapt straight ahead with a yell, slashing downward. His razor-sharp blade cut a deep gouge in the robot's right shoulder armor, but unfortunately the arm was not severed as Richard had hoped. His heart pounding, Isahn stepped back, and, almost panicking, struck again, this time aiming a bit lower. He managed to cleave one of the cannons neatly in half, but did not stop there. A well-timed horizontal slice caused a shower of hot sparks to erupt in all direction, making Richard squint from their brightness.
For its part, the machine staggered forward, apparently still functional. While not well-versed in the specifics of robotic operation, it seemed there were several redundancies built in to this particular model, as well as alternative methods of perceiving its environment other than the single red eye. This became painfully obvious when the robot fired several rounds from its still-functioning cannon, and had Richard not been inside its firing arc, there wouldn't have been enough of him remaining to fill a dish. Nevertheless, the shells exploded against the warehouse wall not too far behind him, their concussive blast deafening Rich and knocking him forcefully to the ground. Hot chunks of compressed mortar showered him, and the telltale orange glow of fire began illuminating the room with growing intensity. Ignoring the blood dripping down his face, Isahn scrambled to get back up, the adrenaline coursing through his veins aiding him in this endeavor.
As he stood, however, the robot punched with its ruined cannon. He didn't see the damaged arm until it was almost too late; the machine was quick. At the last second, Richard raised his sword in a feeble attempt to parry the impending blow, the thin blade of charged polycarbon barely able to withstand the overwhelming artificial strength of the machine. Flying backwards from the force of the attack, Richard crashed through several dilapidated crates containing moldy old paperwork, which he normally would have found interesting since paper hadn't been used in centuries. Luckily, these crates hadn't caught fire yet, although judging by the rapidly spreading orange glow surrounding him, that was about to change.
Somehow Isahn managed to hold on to his weapon, and, although coughing and sputtering from the cloud of dust that had erupted all around him when he landed, he found himself able to stand and face the machine once more. Ignoring the smoke, dust, and worrisome sounds of hyperkinetic machine gun fire from the room beyond, Isahn again thrust his sword forward, attempting run the robot through. This time he got lucky. The thin blade efficiently slid between a seam in the armor, and the robot twitched in response. In an attempt to do as much damage as possible, Rich jerked the sword back and forth before finally wrenching it free with a flourish. The robot convulsed and strange groaning noises emanated from within its artificial bowels. Fueled by this apparent triumph, he chopped hard at the machine's still-functional arm, this time aiming slightly above what would be commonly considered its elbow.
As it fell to the floor harmlessly, the arm twitched and sparked, vaguely resembling the severed limb of some primitive animal. The robot itself merely shuddered before slumping forward, acrid black smoke erupting from the seam Isahn had penetrated. It took a moment for Isahn to realize he'd actually won, and as he wiped a copious amount of sweat from his brow, Richard actually laughed a little. Euphoric from surviving his first real battle, it seemed like a harmless celebration.
"Wow, you survived," Jake's reedy voice echoed slightly in the close confines of the warehouse office as he stepped forward, surveying the disabled robot and the rapidly spreading fire consuming the ancient paperwork and other office features, "I just contacted the local Authorities, they should be here shortly to deal with these guys and that fire you started"
"That I started?" Isahn gaped. Rich was proud of his accomplishment, and Jake's admonishment would have stung were he not used to it by now. Jake merely stood there with his arms folded, and although he was just as bruised and scraped-up as Isahn, seemed as arrogant as ever.
"If I didn't have to go chasing after those guys back there," Jake jerked his thumb toward the back room, "that robot wouldn't have lasted five seconds"
Somehow Richard doubted that, but decided not to say anything.
"Well let's hurry up and interrogate this guy. There's a survivor, and once the local authorities get here there's no way we'll be able to get our hands on him again." With that, Jake turned and disappeared into the back room. Sighing, Isahn sheathed his sword and followed closely behind.