Reunion

"Raven, you remember me."

She choked off three replies, and then managed to gasp, "Do you think I would forget."

The Grandmaster smiled. That much was not likely, but these circumstances were not remotely similar to when he and she had last seen each other.

Actually, considering their very last meeting, and not the vast majority of time they had spent together, they were almost exactly the same.

"Do you think now that I will forgive," the empath grated, staring into the Grandmaster's shrouded face.

For a moment the Grandmaster's voice held no malice, no hatred, "No, I don't expect that."

"Wise too," said Raven, regaining a little of her appealing acidity.

Unable to think of anything more to say the Grandmaster simply stood, hands limp at his sides.

Raven was his mirror, her posture was the same hapless semi-slump. But her eyes… her eyes were quite firmly the opposite of his.

Scott came up behind her from whatever task he had been pursuing, screwing his monocle into his eye. He looked up to see the Grandmaster and his jaw dropped.

"My God, Eth-"

"Don't say it." The command was hissed.

Scott was left standing as blank and mute as the other two.

Commander Chen watched as another Prison Guard was struck by one of the weapons of the enemy, at the close range the stuff splashed all over him, cutting off his nascent scream. Unthinking he hefted his own gun and the shot the soldier who had killed the Guard in the cowl. The Prison Guards in Chen's area had lost roughly half their number, with the majority going down as the fighting become close and bloody on the dark side of the dust wall. The enemy, from what he could see, had lost roughly the same percentage of their force. A much higher number of men, but they seemed to be largely oblivious.

The point of one of the guns that the robed fighters wielded came out of the darkness at him, followed by a cowl. The commander grabbed the tip of the barrel in his left hand, ducked under it and thrust up with his shoulder. The material of the gun splintered and split, snapping as Chen swung the butt of his own weapon round to impact unpleasantly with the hooded skull of his adversary. The man went down. Chen consulted the infrared display on his visor and picked another target, loosing off a shot into the gloom and running after it to ensure that its target was dead.

While the majority of their number had been lost here, it was in the blind, hectic, close quarter brawl that was developing that the Prison Guards excelled. Their infrared vision gave them the distinct advantage of being able to see opponents more than a few feet away, and their targeters ensured nigh fatal hits every time.

Chen had scaled a section of wrecked wall to reach a balcony that remained almost intact, and was now providing covering fire for his comrades as they continued in their advance. The casualties on the enemy side were mounting by the minute, but they seemed to be getting no fewer. In fact, there were more every minute. He lifted his gaze from the fighting happening below him to see a constant column of reinforcements. Special Weapons And Techniques or no, the Prison Guards would be swamped. He prepared to call a general retreat, activating his commlink.

"Enemies of the Temple," the voice was not Chen's, the Commander realised that he hadn't spoken at all, the voice in his head belonged to one of his enemies.

"Enemies of the Temple, your fight is futile. Sorceries are prepared. I have but to give the word and a thousand slaves shall die so that your souls may provide some amusement for the Lord Trigon. Honour however dictates I must offer the hope of resistance in single combat. Let your leader come forth, he shall see the power of a Knight of the Temple."

Our leader, thought Chen. Hell, that's me! Single combat with a madman, what a day this shall be to recall.

He turned on his PA.

"I am Commander Chen of the Prison Guards. I am coming forth."

The adversaries, these temple people, (though personally Chen preferred the private nickname "robies") were forming a great wide circle. In the middle stood one man.

He headed towards the circle, or the arena it was swiftly becoming, and deactivated the infrared. The circle was entirely free of dust, hinting that whoever they were the robies were controlling the cloud. Hiding something.

Signalling to his men to be ready to strike should he die, Chen barged through the crowd.

From the inside the arena seemed vast, desolate. Across the impossible distance of its diameter was his adversary.

He looked at the man who had called himself a Knight of the Temple. The word juggernaut came to mind.

The figure was tall, unnaturally so, and wore armour that seemed to be more spikes that plate. The helm was tall, plumed in bloody rags of defeated foes, with but the thinnest T shaped slit to allow the monster being to see. In one hand was a sword. And what a sword! Long and triangular, with teeth jutting jagged from its length, it seemed to glow with an arcane light, and was a deep, jet, black.

Chen had to break off his examination of his opponent at the sword, for said implement of doom was now raised above his head and came rapidly closer as the man charged.

Training took over, he dropped into the crouching firing stance and pumped away with the trigger. Searing light played about the godly form bearing down on him, who now seemed even taller, and in one instance even managed to dent on of the armour plates.

The Knight came through the firestorm unscathed, unslowed, but perhaps marginally less spiky.

He roared, a primal noise of anger and excitement of a deadly, wrathful kind. The dread blade swung down.

Chen's eyes widened. With the mad creativity of the doomed the Commander dived headlong, gun blazing, between the legs of his adversary. He landed roughly on his back as the sword met the ground between his own legs, far too close for comfort.

Half crawling, half scrambling, Chen managed to put a fair distance between himself and the Knight before the latter managed to remove his blade from the ground, which had split into lightning bolt cracks at the weapons impact. Chen was unenthusiastic about his prospects should such a thing happen to him. He wasn't a Harry Potter after all.

Pointing his blade like a lance, to prevent it from being stuck in the ground again, Chen's opponent charged again.

The blade came up fast to his right, Chen sidestepped, putting a shot into the Knights breastplate at point blank range.

The Commander's foe staggered backwards, arms splaying wide. But the stagger was a deception, and one of the arms, previously moving out, was now moving back in to smite Chen's head with its spike ringed gauntlet. The sword lay forgotten on the ground some feet away

Noticing the blow just in time, Chen seized both ends of his gun, and held it up to take the impact of the fist.

The weapon split, and began to leak acidic fuel. Seizing this as his best and only opportunity Chen thrust the broken barrel into the slit of Knight's helm, letting the acid spray into his face.

The Knight screamed. The sound was horrible, inhuman and inhumane, twisted and stifled sickeningly as the acid dissolved mouth and throat.

In that moment Chen realised that he had won.

Raven broke the silence. "I have mourned for your death, as I mourned for the death of everyone else on Azarath. One thing I am certain of is that the man I knew is dead. Whoever you are, it is not the person I once knew. You are Ethan Scott in body alone."

"Ethan," spoke Greenwood Scott, "Ethan Scott?"

Oh, thought Raven, oh dear…