(Written June 3) Hey bros. (For those of you confused, bro is my term for the loyal fans I have. So far, none) =( So I'm at the lake for one more day. Don't worry, I'm already half-way through the next chapter of Madness. I just need a description of Mephala (impasse). So, I'm officially on summer break come Monday around noon-ish, and I can barely wait! My wife is still in school, but we'll get by somehow =) So, without further ado (say it with me now) BACK TO WORK!
(Written July 4th) Okay bros, I know it's been awhile. I've been plugging away when I can, but sometimes you're just not in the mood, you know? I'm truly sorry to have kept my readers waiting, and I hope that I can manage a faster update sooner-or-later =) Truly, I write these things for you guys as much as myself: because if no one else was enjoying them, there would be no point to be posting them here, right? Oh well, we'll see if this story can redeem me a little. I hope it's good enough to justify the wait!
Derek laughed and twirled his crowbar, not surprised in the least. "So you knew then. Why didn't you act?"
"Same reason you didn't: I don't have autonomy," Symes explained.
"I know I know, and I'm glad you didn't. It's given Justice here more than enough time to plead his case for the Regulators. And my friend here," Derek declared, tapping the kneeling assassin on the shoulder "more than made up my mind for their cause. So, Symes, what shall we do?"
"What indeed? Most likely I'll have to clean house. These merchants love to subscribe to the 'out of sight, out of mind,' policy of dealing with me. I think some even believe I don't exist," the ghoul complained.
"Perish the thought," Derek mock-scoffed. "But do clean up your house, because those that do business outside of your rules are no better than the raiders."
"Yes, of course, you are right. Once you leave, I will deal with the matter personally," Symes promised.
"Personally!" Derek exclaimed, surprised by this course of action. "Doesn't your second man-"
"Gerard will be accompanying you to the Talon Company base. He's all the help I can spare at the moment. Show of force and all that," Symes explained, suddenly busy pressing buttons on his monitors. On screen, guards were rushing around Passtime to unseen queues, moving to block off merchant stalls and blockade the dock entrance.
Justice whistled, stepping over to the screens and watching the scene unfold like clockwork. "You work very fast."
"Training, my good Regulator." Symes waved off the compliment.
"Here, you can use these, I think." Justice handed his sheaf of evidence to the Umpire, who leafed through it and raised his eyebrows, impressed.
"If all of your information is as good as this, I may have to steal you from the Regulators my boy. This is spot on."
Justice laughed and shook his head. "I'm more into field work, if that's all right with you. Still, though, so long as I'm to become a permanent fixture, I have nothing against some side-jobs."
"Splendid!" exclaimed the Umpire, setting the pile of evidence aside and moving back to his screens. "Now then Derek, what will you do while I play dictator for the day?"
"Exactly as you suggested. I'll take Gerard and head over to the Talon base. I have some men over at the old planetarium setting up now," Derek explained. "By the way, where is your man? I didn't see him on the way up."
"Of course you didn't," gloated a voice behind him. Mato whirled around and leveled his gun at a small man with a dark complexion. Gerard, Symes's right hand, generally had that effect on people. He had arrived in the states from Old Wales when he was just a boy. Apparently, the journey had been very difficult. Things hadn't gotten easier here, either. Gerard had landed in the middle of raider wars, and had somehow moved west until he had reached Passtime. Not surprisingly, Symes was quick to make contact, despite Gerard's skills at remaining negligible.
Gerard wore his hair long, down to his shoulders. It was black, as was his skin, and his eyes as well. He had once told Derek that he was called a 'Hindu,' and worshipped Brahma. Why he wanted to revere a two-headed beast of burden was beyond the young man. However, the only thing to distinguish him from shadow was a curious silver pendant around his neck that had a bunch of wavy lines on it. Gerard explained that these were symbols of his faith, though their meaning was lost on Derek.
"Stand down Mato," Derek ordered. The sentry bot whirred and lowered its rocket launcher.
Gerard laughed and patted Mato's shoulder, before striding over to stand beside Symes. "The gates are sealed. All our merchants are accounted for last I checked, and we have enough supplies for three days in case of a siege."
"Good man," praised Symes without looking away from his screens. "Do be so kind as to accompany these brave fools on their next endeavor. And be sure to bring back some useful information!" he reminded the manservant as he walked to Derek and Justice.
"I'll keep him safe for you Symes," Derek promised, opening the door for his companions. Mato wheeled out first, followed closely by Gerard.
Justice lingered long enough to say: "goodbye Umpire, or Symes, if you rather. I hope this is not the last time we meet."
Then he too strode out of the room, leaving the enigmatic ghoul to his own devices once more. Before the door closed, Derek heard Symes switch into a different tone than before as he said, "Now then, let's see what else you know Mr. Assassin."
On the way out of the settlement, Derek was quiet, absorbed in his own thoughts about the coming battle. He was not doubtful that he would be victorious, but he wondered at the cost. Certainly lives on his side would be lost. Who would blame him for creating more chaos and ending more lives, when people only wanted a peaceful struggle for survival? Oh well, he thought. Time enough for those thoughts after it was already too late.
Stepping out of the confines of Passtime, Derek noticed that Panama had a companion. The small blond Olivia stood silently next to the Yao-Guai, staring at him, pleading with her eyes. Deciding to make her suffer a little, Derek purposefully ignored her and continued on; calling on his new pet like Olivia wasn't even there. "Let's go Panama, we have people to end."
Mt. Adams was a large hill that overlooked Passtime from the east. Whoever owned the summit thereby claimed a great vantage point for reconnaissance. Thus, it was almost a constant warzone. As things stood, it was more-or-less no-man's land. The major landmarks were the old theater that the Talon Company had commandeered. It was directly on the main road up to the rest of Mt. Adams; a perfect choke-point. Beyond was the old Planetarium. A small garrison of Brotherhood of Steel Knights kept this facility in working order, mainly to use its intact radio telescope as an effective communication device. Lastly was an old church, directly at the summit of the hill. Strangely, its design centered around a raised platform that the church itself sat on. This platform was only reachable by one concrete staircase that had yet to collapse. A pre-war fortress if there ever was one. Mt. Adams only stable residents, the ghouls, resided in this bastion, and had christened it Purgatory. Not a bad name for a bunch of immortals.
Up the hill trudged the growing party, occasionally joined by scavengers or other people eager to get in on the 'war games' Derek had mentioned earlier. Upon reaching the main road up Mt. Adams, the group circled to the left of the theater, which was on a small rise of its own. They kept silent and out of sight of the unseen watchmen that were surely watching for the unseen trespassers. Uncertainties aside, the group bypassed the area without incident and continued on to the planetarium.
The commander of the Knights at the planetarium was a Junior Paladin Fields. Fields was not bad as the Brotherhood went; he knew that you had to at least speak to the locals to survive in the field. But he certainly did not appreciate armed bands of money-grubbing lowlifes randomly appearing on his property. Spotting Derek emerging amidst the chaos, Fields stormed up to the young man. He was pretty imposing in the power armor, even though he was no taller than Derek. His red hair was cropped militant short, though it still served to emphasize his unhappy mood. "What the hell is going on here you tribal nutjob?" demanded the high-and-mighty Junior Paladin angrily. "I almost shot the first few people to show up, and I'm still pretty trigger happy!"
"Sorry Fields," Derek apologized honestly . "We're rooting out some interlopers who're dug in at the theater, and we needed a secure staging area." Derek was unusually tactful with the Brotherhood. He knew they were strong, and wanted to be on as much of their good side as he could. It was never a good idea to anger someone who had military training and was using power armor.
"You may have told me!" Fields protested, though he seemed to be a little calmer knowing that he wasn't about to be fighting a battle himself.
"I tried," responded the young man calmly. "I don't have your radio frequencies, so I broadcasted on mine about everyone heading up to the planetarium. I figured you would be listening."
"Yeah well… we weren't!" Fields retorted, somehow asserting he was superior for not paying attention to tribal frequencies.
"Look, just… calm down for five minutes and I'll get all of this taken care of," promised Derek, starting to get fed up.
"Five minutes. I'll hold you to that!" was the response from over the shoulder of a retreating Steel Junior Paladin.
Five minutes later, the war party was grouped up and ready to head out. The plan was simple. Three main groups would assault the Talons from three different directions. Derek would take the hardiest, most seasoned individuals up the main road and assault the front gate. The Talons would be expecting the frontal attack, so these men would be in the most danger. Perfect leadership-building opportunity. He would be followed by Panama and Mato. Justice and Olivia would accompany the lighter infantry in an attack that would come up from beneath an old parking garage adjacent to the compound. Once it was clear of enemies, they would support the frontal attack via sniper fire. Gerard would lead the stealthiest men into the compound from the wooded hills that formed the remainder of the perimeter. He would head-hunt the leadership and steal anything that wasn't nailed down. If all went well, the Talons would be caught off-guard and pinched off in the resulting chaos. "Okay, we're moving out!" Derek ordered, stepping to the head of his mob of soldiers and giving them a stern-ish look. "If you die, I won't pay you," was all the motivation he gave his men before turning and heading off.
As expected, shouts rang up from the Talon Camp as soon as Derek could see their sentries. "Okay, start running, and don't stop until you're not alive," he told the men near him. Removing his boomstick from its holster, the young man charged forward and sighted his first target. The Talon mercenary had just whipped around to find a buckshot pellet lodged in his brain. Stepping over the body, Derek claimed his piece of cover and looked ahead to survey their objective. He was currently behind a concrete slab that was part of a sloppy ring around the parking lot of the theater. Beyond lay your given gutted vehicles, and a wrought-iron fence that was the Talon's main line of defence. They had miniguns, some explosives, and some MarkII machine turrets covering the ground to the theater itself. Behind him, his men were claiming their own cover from trees, or other parts of the concrete ring from dead Talon mercenaries. Mato was buzzing angrily as he released a storm of lasers from his arm, tearing through two men and freeing up a section of the ring for more of Derek's troops. Panama was hanging back for now; surprisingly aware of how effective a frontal charge would be at the present.
To their left, Justice was helping some men heave themselves over a piece of sheet metal and into the lowest level of the parking garage. Once everyone was inside, the group rushed up the stairs, picking off Talon goons as quietly as they could. Justice was good at that, because his lever-action rifle was a lot quieter than the ruckus occurring outside. Up and up the party went, pouncing on unwary sentries on their way. Just before reaching the top, Justice held out his hand and stopped the group from emerging into the sunlight. Signaling for the others to wait, he trotted forward himself to a hunk of metal, hunkered down behind it, then silently peeked over to see what was waiting for them. What he saw wasn't a very comforting sight.
Inside the theater, Gerard was silently slipping between the rows of disheveled chairs, listening for sounds of approaching feet. Earlier, he had heard people barking orders, and then watched as all the sentries had gone outside to fight the attackers. Rather stupid, since they assumed no one would be coming in behind them. Sighing, Gerard motioned for the rest of his party to move up through the chairs, then drew his dagger from its sheath on his sleeve. This was no ordinary wastelander weapon: it fitted neatly into two of his fingers and braced against his wrist, allowing for quick jabs as well as broad slashes. Squeezing the handle, he slid between two broken seats to get a better look at the front of the theater.
In front of him was what looked like a war meeting: a few high-ranking Talon Company men looking over a table full of maps and charts, with little pawns on them to represent the forces in the field. From his perspective, Gerard could only see enemy pawns at the front entrance. So, the attack on the parking garage was going unnoticed as well. These guys really didn't know how to fight a war. Slinking closer, Gerard was able to make out a bit of the conversation going on between someone that had to be in charge and his subordinates. "…we need to make sure they don't discover the cargo. Wipe out the scavengers at the gate, and move the goods into the building. Be sure to keep it quiet too: no telling who would be willing to steal a few for their own cut." Gerard spied some of the pawns being moved about, from the parking garage into what he assumed was the main building. He hoped that, whatever this cargo was, Justice and Olivia would be able to handle it, because he wasn't about to let the meeting go on any longer to find out for himself. Turning to what looked like an empty room, Gerard signaled to eyes that were watching by drawing a finger across his throat.
All things considered, the Talon were terrible war fighters. Sure, each member knew how to use a fucking gun, and knew how to use cover, but they were not trained soldiers. There was no group dynamic, no covering fire to support a counter-attack, nothing but a bunch of individuals clustered behind similar cover, shooting at similar enemies, and wearing similar armor. As things stood, Derek's men had pushed through considerable odds to even the playing field. The ring of concrete slabs should've been the first-line of defense, but no Talon had fired a shot to help his fellow mercenary, and now the fortification was in Derek's hands. From here, his men looked directly across the parking lot to the wrought iron gate, where the Talon were all clustered together and firing randomly. Some of his men were finding it comical to lob explosives and send two or three Talons flying in different directions. Frankly, Derek couldn't blame them. Sure, the Talon fought better than Raiders, but where was the cohesion? There should've been lots of space between men to limit the effectiveness of grenades, and a base of fire should've been maintained to prevent an advance.
Speaking of which… "Mato!" Derek called, paused, then added "Panama! Come earn your keep!" Sure enough, the thump of charging paws and the whirr of wheels were soon heard, and the two appeared. Panama, again showing an astounding knowledge of a fire-fight, remained close to the cover of the closest concrete slab. "Mato, status update," Derek demanded. Before any major engagement, Mato stored Derek's logistics (troops, ammunition, etc.) in his central processor, which helped him make orders and decisions.
Mato whirred and spouted the necessary information. "Three men have been neutralized, and our explosives are half depleted."
Derek thought for a moment, then made his choice. "Travel along the line and inform the troops of these orders." Derek cleared his throat and spoke clearly, since Mato would play back this holotape sound-file to all the fighters. "Okay guys, it doesn't look like we're getting support from the parking garage. We'll have to solve this ourselves. Everyone, switch to whatever explosives you have. If you're out, use a loud weapon. Scream, beat on your cover, make lots of noise. We need to disorient them, make them scared and confused. I'm going to order Mato and the bear to charge their lines once I think it's enough, so switch to precision targeting once you see them go. Or, charge with them if you're feeling brave. Once their lines are broken, give them a chance to surrender before we kill everyone: who knows, someone may actually give themselves up this time." With that, Derek waved the machine away to go spread his orders.
Soon enough, explosives began raining down on the Talons massed at the gate into the theater. Amidst the smoke and fires, Derek could make out bodies rushing like mad, trying to get away from what was becoming a holocaust. Satisfied for the moment, Derek moved over to Panama and patted the side of her face. "Okay, here's the idea," he told the hulking creature, speaking like he would to another human. "You're going to run towards them," he told the Yao-Guai, pointing towards the scattering Talons. "Run fast, and get in close. The more you kill, the less alive to kill you." Something in her eyes told him she understood the gist of what he wanted. As a last ditch measure, he added: "come back alive, and I'll make sure you always have food at home." Panama dipped her head, then heaved her body upwards, leaving the concrete slab and turning towards the disoriented Talons, a challenge roaring from her throat.
"Mato!" Derek shouted at the top of his lungs. "Charge now!" Suddenly, in the midst of the booms of explosives sounded a constant humming, whirring of gears. Mato's Gatling laser was up and firing as he sped towards the remaining Talons. Still roaring, Panama charged after him, and Derek would always swear afterwards that the ground shook at the thunder of her feet. A few brave souls joined the pair, and what remained of the Talon defense was wiped out in a mixture of lasers and crushing claws. There was no need for anyone else to even fire a shot: the battle was won.
Okay guys. I have the next chapter all done as well, enjoy your double whammy!
EDIT: THe next chapter was deleted from my hardrive by squirrels with chainsaws. I will have it rewritten by tuesday!