Chapter 7:
I would have expected returning home to be a joyous experience. Aside from my unavenged feud with the Cornerian Federation, I've always wanted to come home – to find my apartment untouched by the tendrils of time, and to recollect all that once belonged to me, all that Corneria owed me. And the fragrance of my dorm I have always missed in my nomadic life as a space pirate, in the cold, tattered camps of undisciplined rogues. It was against my nature to rob, to threaten, and to kill in order to sustain my own needs, but I managed all the same. Survival of the fittest, as they always say – no one needed me – no one watched over me, so I fought for myself. And I thought that one day it would be nice to be home again…
Unsure on my feet, I stepped on to the grassy meadows at the clearing, all prepared for the mortal mission that I am destined to complete. There were no welcomes in store for me – only bullets, and glances of fright and disdain, I would image. The fragrance of home was absent, all lost in the past; I sniffed the air a couple times, and all I could smell was the stench of old blood seemingly uncleaned for years. The reek trickled through the streams, seeped through the defiled soil, and diffused into the air – or was I imagining it? The pleasant Corneria of my memory seemed but like a killing field, with only the mournful howl of the wind to lament its lost – or was it all my imagination? I don't know.
"Wolf!" Leon hissed at me in a subdued tone, wearing a puzzled countenance on his usually stern face. I lifted my gaze towards him.
Crouching down low and holding a blaster in hand, Leon pointed frantically at something in front of us – something that I failed to detect until now. The clearing that we landed in was surrounded by vagrant fields of tall grass, all rising up to shoulder-height. Among the grass and bushes walked three figures. I could not see them yet, but from the southerly wind blowing against my face, I could smell them. Yes, I could smell their detestable stench; my senses are too keen. From their loud chatter, I suspect that they have not noticed us, but came to check out our Wolfen IIIs lying conspicuously in the open field.
Cursing to myself softly, I signally Leon to retreat to the undergrowth. Fortunately, dusk was taking over the vast landscape – my sense of smell far surpasses my sense of sight. Darkness could be harnessed to my advantage. Waiting patiently in my position in the grass, I kept my cold eyes fixed intently upon the three scouts. They seemed to be checking out my ship. One approached the hull, knocking the metal and studying its every structure. The other two patrolled the radius, sweeping the tall vegetation with the barrel of their rifles. No, the other two were of no threat, but one was coming imposingly close to me. I looked to Leon, who nodded resolvedly, as if reading my plan. He seemed to always know what I'm thinking; I can trust him on this. Reaching one hand out, I signaled - One. Two. Three. With my mark, I leapt out from my dark hiding place. The nearest scout let out a muffled yelp as my strong hands swept over his muzzle and my other hand jerked his torso in one violent burst of motion. A soft crack rang from his neck, and he fell over limply. Meanwhile, Leon rushed up to the next closest one and proceeded to slit the guard's throat – all in professional fashion.
"Leo? Grey?" The remaining scout cried as the realization dawned upon him – he was the only one left.
I reached over to my blade as the one guard feebly trotted over to his fallen kin. With a clean sweep of my arm, the knife shot through the air and landed sharply upon the guard's chest with a sickening thud. He, too, succumbed to darkness. They never should have interfered with my mission.
After cleaning and sheathing my blade, I stealthily made my way down the vast valley with Leon quietly tagging behind. Corneria City stood as tall and as grand as ever – but not for long. The usual croaking of the insects and chirping of birds was replaced by the din of imperial artillery pounding heavily upon the city's exterior plasma shield. An aural glow rippled and flickered as round after round of bombardment blasted the walls. The shield was failing, and I would imagine that soon, Scale's troops would be marching into the capital like an infernal horde. What a pleasing sight it would to behold – the fleet tearing apart the military monuments, and the statues of that narcissistic General Pepper. I laughed cruelly as I imaged Pepper's writhe expression when he realizes that one of his very own fallen pupils has come back to haunt him. No, the enjoyment must wait; it's time to move on.
I would have expected returning home to be a joyous experience. Aside from my unavenged feud with the Cornerian Federation, I've always wanted to come home – to find my apartment untouched by the tendrils of time, and to recollect all that once belonged to me, all that Corneria owed me. And the fragrance of my dorm I have always missed in my nomadic life as a space pirate, in the cold, tattered camps of undisciplined rogues. It was against my nature to rob, to threaten, and to kill in order to sustain my own needs, but I managed all the same. Survival of the fittest, as they always say – no one needed me – no one watched over me, so I fought for myself. And I thought that one day it would be nice to be home again…
Unsure on my feet, I stepped on to the grassy meadows at the clearing, all prepared for the mortal mission that I am destined to complete. There were no welcomes in store for me – only bullets, and glances of fright and disdain, I would image. The fragrance of home was absent, all lost in the past; I sniffed the air a couple times, and all I could smell was the stench of old blood seemingly uncleaned for years. The reek trickled through the streams, seeped through the defiled soil, and diffused into the air – or was I imagining it? The pleasant Corneria of my memory seemed but like a killing field, with only the mournful howl of the wind to lament its lost – or was it all my imagination? I don't know.
"Wolf!" Leon hissed at me in a subdued tone, wearing a puzzled countenance on his usually stern face. I lifted my gaze towards him.
Crouching down low and holding a blaster in hand, Leon pointed frantically at something in front of us – something that I failed to detect until now. The clearing that we landed in was surrounded by vagrant fields of tall grass, all rising up to shoulder-height. Among the grass and bushes walked three figures. I could not see them yet, but from the southerly wind blowing against my face, I could smell them. Yes, I could smell their detestable stench; my senses are too keen. From their loud chatter, I suspect that they have not noticed us, but came to check out our Wolfen IIIs lying conspicuously in the open field.
Cursing to myself softly, I signally Leon to retreat to the undergrowth. Fortunately, dusk was taking over the vast landscape – my sense of smell far surpasses my sense of sight. Darkness could be harnessed to my advantage. Waiting patiently in my position in the grass, I kept my cold eyes fixed intently upon the three scouts. They seemed to be checking out my ship. One approached the hull, knocking the metal and studying its every structure. The other two patrolled the radius, sweeping the tall vegetation with the barrel of their rifles. No, the other two were of no threat, but one was coming imposingly close to me. I looked to Leon, who nodded resolvedly, as if reading my plan. He seemed to always know what I'm thinking; I can trust him on this. Reaching one hand out, I signaled - One. Two. Three. With my mark, I leapt out from my dark hiding place. The nearest scout let out a muffled yelp as my strong hands swept over his muzzle and my other hand jerked his torso in one violent burst of motion. A soft crack rang from his neck, and he fell over limply. Meanwhile, Leon rushed up to the next closest one and proceeded to slit the guard's throat – all in professional fashion.
"Leo? Grey?" The remaining scout cried as the realization dawned upon him – he was the only one left.
I reached over to my blade as the one guard feebly trotted over to his fallen kin. With a clean sweep of my arm, the knife shot through the air and landed sharply upon the guard's chest with a sickening thud. He, too, succumbed to darkness. They never should have interfered with my mission.
After cleaning and sheathing my blade, I stealthily made my way down the vast valley with Leon quietly tagging behind. Corneria City stood as tall and as grand as ever – but not for long. The usual croaking of the insects and chirping of birds was replaced by the din of imperial artillery pounding heavily upon the city's exterior plasma shield. An aural glow rippled and flickered as round after round of bombardment blasted the walls. The shield was failing, and I would imagine that soon, Scale's troops would be marching into the capital like an infernal horde. What a pleasing sight it would to behold – the fleet tearing apart the military monuments, and the statues of that narcissistic General Pepper. I laughed cruelly as I imaged Pepper's writhe expression when he realizes that one of his very own fallen pupils has come back to haunt him. No, the enjoyment must wait; it's time to move on.