Today I killed, he was just a boy
Eight before him, I knew them all
In the fields a dying oath
I'd kill them all to save my own . . .

- "Tenth Man Down" by Nightwish

Chapter 36
You Can't Spell Slaughter...

With a brief guitar chord and a flash of a semi-cheezy "DreadZone" logo done in an angular font, the camera catches sight of what looks to be a metal gargoyle perched atop the corner of a rooftop. Some text at the bottom of the screen appears with, "Novalis - Local time 27:19" as the figure's head moved, revealing a streamlined helmet and almost medival-styled face mask, accompanied with the twitch of a spaded tail.

Suddenly, the figure darted up, and two large thigh-mounted wheels made out of pure energy bloom into a rigid form, as she wheels herself over to the edge, where we can see a nearby grindrail below her. She careened off the edge, aiming to land on the rail.

Unfortunately, wheels of any kind and grind rails don't mix well, and she slipped, quickly twisting herself to catch the rail with her knees long enough to latch onto it with her hands. She held herself there, tail hanging out and swinging, before hissing with a crackle into her helmet's communicator. "Shit!"

"Daisy! What's going on over there?" Jigsaw's voice popped up. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine . . ." Daisy grunted back, adjusting her legs around the rail, locking her ankles into place so she could traverse the rail from her current position. "Make sure I remember never to hop a grindrail with a wheelchair again."

There was a slight pause in the line. "Why would y-? Never mind . . . just get to the rendezvous point. White Noise has the details for this mission."

"I'll be there shortly." Daisy remarked, pulling herself along the cabling the grindrail was attached to, before dropping down onto another nearby rooftop, landing a little unsteadily.

Daisy blinked, standing up to see an armored figure looking back at her, before the figure's helmet retracted enough for her to see White Noise's face. "Still getting used to the armor?"

"I'll manage." Daisy remarked, before noticing that the Anyr was similarly balanced on two smaller foot-mounted wheels. "Hang on, I thought my armor-?"

"I'll start explaining once London arrives." He remarked, pointing over to where another armor-clad female was signaling off. "Poison's having to redirect him."

"I saw London's starting position . . . how hard could it be to take a damn catwalk?"

The Anyr rolled his eyes. "He missed the catwalk."

"Move it, you worthless piece of . . . there!" Poison hissed, yanking the greenie up onto the rooftop by his helmet. "Here we go!"

"Great, now that we have everyone here . . ." White Noise glanced back at Daisy. "To answer your first question, once everyone spilt up into their teams, the brats in charge assigned out armor. Each team has one suit of each of the four armor types, so certain tasks are easier done by certain people so you're better encouraged to use each other's strengths. Forced teamwork, if you will."

"So what's this stuff called, then?" Daisy blinked, pointing down to the axel-points on her suit.

White Noise grinned at her. "Scout Armor."

Daisy made a face, before looking back at Poison and London, barking at them. "Get over here! We don't have much time!"

"Indeed." White Noise remarked, pointing out towards the fenced-in service lot. "I wanted you four here because quite frankly, I don't trust the communicators for this. We've been 'commissioned' by the local SeHNS chapter to send this place 'a message'."

"What the hells' SeHNS want with a factory?" London blinked, looking out at it. "I thought those hippie douchebags were an animal rights group."

"That's no ordinary factory; it's a slaughterhouse." The Anyr replied, pointing to a few approaching trucks. "Because of the plant's location, they work a little 'backwards'; during the day they render the meat and ship it out, and during the night they bring in fresh fodder; with all the activity in and out of the place, we'll have an easier time getting in. The goal for tonight is to cause as much economic damage to the place as possible. We do that right, we'll close this place permanently, and SeHNS gets a fresh victory for their ranks."

"Nice. Moral High Ground is always fun." Poison smirked. "Got a plan in mind?"

"I've already scanned the blueprints for the place and picked out four good points to hit — their main transformers, the backup generators, the controls for their freezing facilities, and the local server they use for in-house communications." He held up four datacards. "Who thinks they can penetrate the killing floor fast enough to hit the server farm first? Our jobs will be a lot easier once we take that down."

"I'll do it." Daisy spoke up, before adding on, "There's no grindrails on the killing floor, right?"

White Noise chuckled, before handing her the card. "Have fun with it. Make sure to take the rest of Black Hole Sun with you — at least a few of those workers should be armed. It is the killing floor, after all." He gave her a wink and a nod. "Off you go!"

Daisy nodded back, taking a few steps before her thigh-wheels bloomed again, giving her a chance to make a rolling leap off this rooftop, but this time, she leaned forward and activated a secondary pair of ankle-wheels before landing on the new grindrail. She grinned, laughing as she made it towards the bottom, where Jigsaw and the rest of Team Black Hole Sun were waiting nearby, watching as she spun off and stuck a reasonably graceful landing.

"I thought you said you weren't going to try and grind on a wheelchair again!" Jigsaw remarked, her arms crossed awkwardly in her armor, even without the helmet on.

Daisy shrugged. "I figured out a working method. Now come on," She shot back, tossing Jigsaw the datacard. "We have to get moving. White gave us the honor of going first."

Jigsaw frowned at the card, before pulling out a blaster and having her helmet close on herself. "Let's get moving, then. Slick, Cain, come on!"

The two armored figures nodded, moving in sync behind the girls as they crept through the service lot, trying hard to stay out of the bright lights of the vehicles and the watchful eyes of local guardsmen. Jigsaw quickly leapt under the chassis of an idling truck, and the other three quickly followed, shuttling from vehicle to vehicle until they came in close enough.

"Damn . . . What's going on in this place?" Jigsaw muttered, her eyes looking up at the truck's chassis. "This place is electric!"

"News to me." Daisy shrugged, crawling out from under the truck in an unlit spot. "White mentioned this place being a slaughterhouse. Maybe the cattle here are making too much noise for your big ears."

"Easy on the ear jokes." Slick muttered. "I've had enough of those for this week!"

Jigsaw and Cain both pulled themselves out from under the truck at the same time, looking about the loading zones, and spotting a nearby doorway in shadow. Cain sprinted up to it, examining the doorknob before forcing it open, holding it ajar. "Captains first."

"Heh! Even when you're supposed to be all big and bad, you're a-! . . ." Jigsaw started up, then stopped, her eyes going wide as soon as she stepped inside.

"Come on, Captain, what's gotten-? . . ." Slick remarked, running in after her, but also stopping.

"What's wrong with you two?" Daisy grumbled, climbing up and stabilizing herself on the doorframe. "Oh . . . my . . . where's the camera? Someone get this!"

The camera swung around, catching a gruesome sight of the section they labeled the 'killing floor'; flayed, dismembered corpses and flanks flew through the air on meat hooks, fenced-in zones with conveyor belts moved the still-living animals through at a fast clip, even though most of them were too cramped to walk, while between the flying corpses and the fresh meat, a third conveyor system dangled the recently-slaughtered by their feet, hoisting them about and through the air, fresh blood dripping from their neck-wounds and onto the floor, raining down on the machines and the living below.

Even with that mental image burning in, a more shocking detail rang through all of this; each and every one of the 'animals' shuttling through the system had five-fingered hands, tails with large poufs of fur on the end, and ears as large as the rest of their heads.

"Lombaxes . . . why did it have to be Lombaxes . . ." Jigsaw hissed, still unable to move.

"What the hell kind of slaughterhouse is this?" Slick snarled. "Why the hell didn't someone tell us?"

"Fuck this . . ." Jigsaw backed into a shadow-covered corner. "I'm calling in direct. Cypress! Dallas!"

"What's wrong with you? Get in there! We're burning airtime!" Cypress remarked.

"You're the one expecting us to storm a Lombax slaughterhouse . . ." Jigsaw growled. "It's all just fun and gore until it's your own species, is that it?"

"Come on, Jigsaw, you're supposed to be Captain of one of the deadliest forces in the galaxy . . . and besides that, they're not Lombaxes!"

Jigsaw narrowed her eyes as her teammates joined her in the corner — they weren't huddled up like she was, but they looked to be watching her to see if she was going to crack on the first mission. She glanced out at the fence lines before speaking again. "They look a lot like Lombaxes."

"No, no!" Dallas insisted. "They're Kine — you know, cattle! Look at their horns! Look at their fur! That's no pattern I've ever seen on a Lombax! And they don't even talk! They're just stupid animals . . . come on, sure, they might look like you, but Kine have been spliced and separate from Lombax for over two thousand years!"

Jigsaw took a deep breath, standing up and walking over towards one of the fenced-in zones, noting the spotted, splotched black and white fur, and their hollow, plaintive cries. She started trying to calm herself down, chanting to herself. "They're just cattle . . . they're just cattle . . . they're just cattle . . ."

She stepped closer, managing to see one of the 'cattle' looking over at her, and she made eye contact with it; For a moment, nothing was said, and then she retracted her helmet, stepping over to get a closer look, staring at its eyes. There was a flash of realization between the two, and suddenly, Jigsaw stepped away, looking back at her team with a snarl.

Cain was the first one to try and speak up. "Youngblood . . .?"

"They're not cattle." She growled, gritting her teeth as her battleaxe materialized in her hands, and she gripped the guitar by the neck. "I don't care what Dallas or anyone else tries to tell me tonight. Those things are Lombaxes, no matter what you call 'em."

"So . . ." Cypress spoke up, still piped in to Jigsaw's communicator. "You ready to actually deal with the rest of this mission or not?"

"What exactly are we doing here, Vox?" Jigsaw snapped, her temper shortened.

"You're just here to plant a few bombs in the place to spook the workers. To be more precise, you have a server in one of the central rooms to blow up so the others can get in undetected."

"Yeah, about that . . ." Jigsaw turned, hefting the axe to rest on her shoulder. "I've got a better idea." She glanced at her team, gesturing with a nod before putting her helmet back on. "I'm in the mood for a slightly stronger message tonight. Who's with me?"

The other three blinked, shocked at the look in Jigsaw's eyes, saying nothing. She glared at them. "I said come on! You're going to let those murderers get away with this?"

She started to storm off, head full of steam and ready to heft her axe, but quickly, Cain was the first one to step forward. "Calm down, Youngblood."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" She growled. "I know how fast that converyor line's moving up there. Every five seconds you pussies waste, another one dies!"

"This is true. But these people . . . they do not understand. They are civilians. You cannot expect to exact judgement on them on screen, at least not without giving them a chance."

Jigsaw kept her eyes on Cain for a moment, before spitting out, "Fine. Come on then, all of you. We still have work to do." With that, she stormed past the curtain of blood dripping down from above, seeking out the destination of the fence lines.

Once they had passed the curtain, though, they couldn't help but show up in the bright lights of the killing floor, trudging through a good inch of blood past workers and processors. Most of them went wide-eyed and stepped aside, while others needed to see blasters toted out before they moved away. One of them grabbed hold of Daisy's shoulder plate. "What's going on here? Who let you in?"

"Sir, stay out of our way." Daisy spat, shaking him off. The worker wasn't taking that for an answer though, and she glared at him again. "Sir, we don't want to hurt you unless we have to. Now back off."

"Now hold on!" The worker growled, taking hold of Daisy by an arm. The reaction was immediate, as Daisy held out her pistol, holding the barrel of the blaster against the worker's forehead. His eyes went wide, but he persisted. "L-look, Lady, I've been working this place for 15 years, and I ain't ever seen a pack like you coming in that wasn't looking for trouble. Now just tell me what you're doing here!"

Daisy sighed, pulling down her visor just enough to glare at him. "We're here to file a complaint about your business, in the clearest form possible. So if you would like not to be part of the 'context' of our message, we suggest you leave this abattoir. NOW."

The man quickly bolted, along with about five of his co-workers. Daisy dropped down to her wheelchair form, leaving a slight wake through the puddles of blood as she sped though to catch up. She wasn't too far behind, at least; the corrals wound around the site a good bit, making it hard to track down the corrals, unless you already knew where they were.

Jigsaw had reached the end of the corral that the fencing lines led to, where a series of workers were busy picking up the struggling Lombaxes, hoisting them up to strap each one into the system. Jigsaw glared at them, quickly grabbing onto her guitar and giving it an experimental twang to get the workers' attention. Three workers turned to glare at her. "Well, look what we've got here, boys; one of 'em's gotten loose!"

"Don't even think about it." Jigsaw growled, holding her axe still. "Put the Kine down, and nobody else gets hurt."

"Aww, look, the little calf thinks she can save her friends . . . No dice, cow." The worker hissed, spitting through its beard. "But hey, as long as you're here . . ."

Jigsaw hefted her axe high, but the three workers charged at her, catching her arms before she could complete the first throw. Slick quickly ran in with a pair of blasters, while Cain leapt into the physical fray, quickly trying to pry her away from the workers. Slick managed off a shot that went into the flank of one of the workers, while Cain managed to pry one man's hands off of Jigsaw's left arm. She swung again, this time getting a glancing blow on the third worker, causing him to groan in pain, but not enough to take his sights off her.

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy settin' YOU up, girlie!" The worker growled, grabbing hold of one of Jigsaw's ankles. She quickly twisted around enough to go for a second blow, and this time struck the worker in his shoulders, elicting a much stronger response of pain, and an immediate loosening of his grip. She stood up, yanking her axe free enough for the worker's blood to swell out. He looked at it, then back at her, still trying to stumble towards her. "You think you're clever, aren't . . . y- . . ."

Jigsaw leapt back in shock as the man fell forward, his bluish blood now tricking to the floor. Jigsaw looked back at the processing line, which had apparently halted for now, along with the apparent 'gap' between the deployment zone she stood at, and the actual point of slaughter, noting the still-living and writhing Kine who were currently suspended upside down and crying out in confusion. The other two workers fled the scene, the injured one limping past Daisy as they went.

"I think we halted the processing line." Jigsaw managed out, still looking up at the conveyor lines.

Slick walked up, tapping her on the shoulder. "Yeah? Well, I think that guy's dead."

"He just needs nano . . ." Jigsaw spoke, her head still looking upwards. " . . . right?"

"No, he's pretty dead. You're standing in about a liter of him already." Slick spoke up. "Look, it's okay, 'Saw. It was self-defense."

"He's not dead if I don't see him die . . ." She growled, beginning to walk off. "Now come on. They'll be noticing that the line's stopped in short order, and sending more men out here."

"I already scared a good lot of them off." Daisy remarked. "But White Noise was right. We need to disable the communications grid here before we get too much else done."

Jigsaw nodded, still averting her head from actually having to look at her first casualty, keeping her eyes on the nearby shed in the middle of the mayhem. "Let's head on over there, then. I think we've slowed down the line enough to buy that much time . . ."

The walk over to the shed was surprisingly vacant, as Jigsaw began to notice that workers in the nearby sector were indeed starting to flee, a few of them even phoning in for help as they ran. She ignored it, however, walking onwards towards the office shed. Cain kept pace with her, looking down. "Do not mourn the butcher, Youngblood. You did what had to be."

"That's not what's bothering me; well, not all of it at least." She muttered, looking up at Cain.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She winced, wanting to hide away at that moment. "It . . . it smelled of blood back there; not the thinned-out plasma that coats these floors, but actual, fresh blood." She soke up, before whispering to him, "I liked it."

Cain nodded, before appraoching the door, and punching through the glass paneling of the door to open it from the other side. "You will learn, Youngblood. In time."

With a wrenching and a twisting of the knob, the door flew open. Jigsaw walked in, still holding her bloodied axe over her shoulder as she looked inside the office. Her eyes went wide a she noticed a Kendril sitting behind the desk, and her eyes went even wider when she saw there was a child behind the desk with him. The father's eyes went narrow quickly. "Get out. There'll be police here in five minutes, and you'll all be dead anyway once they arrive here."

"That'll be a little late for you if I actually decide to act on that information . . ." Jigsaw remarked, retracting her helment to actually talk to the man. "Tell me, is there an announcement system in this plant?" She waited a moment, then saw the Kendril nod. "Hand me the microphone, please."

She retracted her helmet, holding out a hand, waiting for the Kendril to hand her the microphone; He tossed it over with a trembling hand, more concerned about holding his child tight than anything else. Cain gave the man a reassuring nod, before gesturing to the now open door.

The Kendril and his son bolted out the doorway, and Jigsaw cleared her throat before speaking into the microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen, today's lesson in treating your fellow Kine with kindness will involve the destruction of this facility and its equipment, along with the release of your meaty 'prisoners'. You are all involved in the slaughter of these poor beasts, and equally guilty of the punishment we are about to mete out. If you would like to repent for your crimes, please evacuate the facility now, with your hands behind your head. If there is anything you think will work as a little white flag, feel free to wave one of those as you leave so we can recognise it and won't shoot you by accident. If you still feel that these creatures are made to be eaten, and feel this way strongly enough to not be moved by our previous request, please stay where you are and continue what you are doing; a representative will come along within the next few minutes to execute you in the manner we find the most convienant. Thank you for your cooperation, and have a nice evening."

With that, she turned the system off, and pointed towards a server rack in the nearby corner. "Whoever brought the explosives, rig that rack up."

Cain nodded, kneeling down to rig the system up. Jigsaw grinned, setting up her headset to relay back to Cypress again. "Mission complete; the server rack will be wired to go in-"

"Are you insane?" Cypress hissed. "You were just supposed to plant the damned bomb! Local police will be here soon enough, and you've gone and turned the entire mission into an eco-terror operation!"

"You mean bombing it wasn't already eco-terror?" Jigsaw snapped back. "I couldn't just leave those Kine to die while we were running around playing secret agent . . . besides, this way we'll get most of the civilians out of the line of fire."

This earned another growl from Cypress. "What part of 'local authorities' did you miss?"

"The show's a federally-sponsored program, right?" Jigsaw shrugged. "They won't interfere."

"Er . . . the show is sponsored. This mission ISN'T."

Jigsaw's ears shot straight up for a moment. "What?"

"This isn't government work. We're doing this on a mercenary license!" Cypress snarled once more. "But fine, you wanted to change the mission, you got it. I'll see what we can do about holding the authorities off as long as I can. Once I'm done talking, I'm patching you into White Noise so you two can cooordinate the rest of this mission on the fly. You need to get as many of those cattle out and dismantle as much machinery in the plant as you can until police arrive; we'll have craft waiting to pick you and your new 'buddies' up."

"Thanks, Cy-!"

"I'm not done." Cypress growled. "When we get back to DreadZone Station, it's your head on the line for deviating from the plan. If you expect to get your neck out of the noose on this one, you damn well better make this mission work!"