Arratra here with the next chapter of Newcomers. I do apologise about taking so long to update; I switched to a new computer, and never got around to transferring or continuing. I'm fixing that now.

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Cruurtun had been proved right; the Varden had already moved the pod out of the lake, and Angela was hard at work inside, studying the fluid. Fortunately, there was already a supply of purified fluid available.

"What is he doing here?" Angela asked, as Cruurtun gently pushed Murtagh inside the tank he himself had emerged from.

"Being reborn," Cruurtun said cryptically, closing the tank and fiddling with the controls. Almost immediately, the purified fluid began flowing in, and Murtagh grimaced at the sensation. Within a minute, he was covered completely, a barely-visible dark patch in the fluid.

"What do you mean?" the witch asked cautiously, "And what of Thorn?"

"They broke free of Galbatorix, but Murtagh was incautious about inspecting an unknown fluid," Cruurtun replied, glancing at her, "The same type of fluid that you're studying right now. Murtagh isn't dying exactly, but when he emerges from that tank, he's not going to be the man he was… or human."

Cruurtun finished setting up the life-support parameters under the direction of the computer that seemed to be tied to his brain, then turned to face the witch.

"He's going to be like myself and Muukhuz, but I don't know to what extent his memory is going to be erased. But no matter what happens, he'll be free of the King, and more than likely to fight by our side."

"That's some good news, at least," Nasuada said, startling them.

"Lady Nasuada? What do you require?" Cruurtun asked.

"I need you to accompany Roran to Feinster. The siege is not going well," the leader of the Varden revealed, "If possible, I want you to open the way."

"But almost all of my weapons are attached to my other armours, and I can't use them yet," Cruurtun protested.

"Almost all," Nasuada said, causing Cruurtun to stiffen.

"The CPG?" he asked, "Are you sure?"

Nasuada nodded gravely. With Eragon's help, Cruurtun had shown her what a full-scale Charged Particle Gun could do; she knew why Cruurtun was so hesitant.

"Feinster is a fortress," she explained, "And conventional siege engines are restricted by the terrain. Infiltration is impossible, even by water. There are channels leading into the city, but they're protected by warded portcullises. So it's either use your CPG, or do something that would likely be called insane."

"What about the civilians?"

"If you fire down the main road, you won't have to worry about that," Roran said, coming inside, "I was just looking over the plans. The main road is straight, wide, and open, leading straight to the castle."

"Either they expected for no one to get through the gates, or that's a killing ground," Cruurtun said warily, "Wide open spaces present clear lines of fire for anyone with a bow or crossbow, but allows for a charge… They may have set up low barricades to slow or halt a charge."

"Aye," Roran replied, nodding.

"Where will I be?" Muukhuz asked, stepping inside.

"You will be fighting alongside Eragon," Nasuada said.

"You haven't told us what weapons we'll be using," Cruurtun protested, "Normal metal won't stand up to our strength, and relying on our natural weapons won't do it."

"We don't have time to send you to Rhunon to craft rider-style blades for you," Angela input, causing everyone to turn and look, "But I did find something interesting here."

She led them over a wall, and slid a panel to one side. It revealed a keypad and glowing digital display.

"I don't know what sort of strange magic makes it work, but I haven't been able to crack it yet," she explained.

"It's not magic," Cruurtun replied, stepping around her and frowning at it, "It's a digital lock. It's… a lock that requires a numerical passphrase to open. Think of it like a door that an ever-watchful guard will only open when the proper phrase is given."

"There must be ways to get past it," Angela reasoned.

"Of course; with the right equipment you could break or cut it open, but that's a brute force method likely to destroy at least part of what's inside," Cruurtun explained, "You could cut the bolt of the lock as well; but again that's not very subtle… Or you could hack into the lock and reset or acquire the passcode… which is like replacing the guard with your own agent or getting the passphrase by interrogating a prisoner. Or maybe…"

He leaned closer, running a clawed finger over the lock, then shook his head.

"No. A physical bypass is impossible."

"Physical bypass?" Roran asked, thinking of a battering ram breaking down a portcullis.

"Basically, no more lock," Muukhuz explained, "But it's not a preferred option…"

"Muukhuz, what's the standard passcode length of a lock of this type?" Cruurtun asked.

"Six digits. It's usually use to secure g…" the female paused, "A gun cabinet in a science lab?"

"I know it's weird, but it's our best shot at getting something we know how to use," the male sighed, before putting his fingers to the lock, "OK, give me some factory codes."

"596028."

The lock buzzed and the screen turned red. "Not that one."

"220481?"

The same reaction. "A manufacturing date, Muukhuz?"

"I'm thinking… 449385?"

Bzzzt. "No."

"Rrrg… Try 372466."

"Wait, that's 'dragon' in the old letter-to-number translation format."

She gave him a hard look, and he held up his hands, before entering the code.

The lock let out a cheerful, affirmative beep, before there was a clunk and a hiss, as the seam released vapour from the air compressed inside. Cruurtun swung the doors of the cabinet wide.

He would have smirked if her were still capable of it.

"Jackpot."

Eragon leaned around Cruurtun to look. Wicked-looking blades were attached to a tube that looked vaguely like a crossbow. It looked rather like some form of hybrid weapon

"Crusader gunblades," Cruurtun stated, pulling two out and handing one to Muukhuz, who whistled appreciatively.

"I'm sorry, what?" Eragon asked.

"They're an infantry beam rifle combined with a sword," Muukhuz explained, "Sort of like a bow that can also be used as a sword. But it's strange to find them here…"

"They're supposed to be exclusive to the Guardian Force. Which begs the question; how did the Backdraft Group get their hands on them?" Cruurtun commented, pulling out several roughly rectangular objects, about half of which he handed to Muukhuz. He slotted one into his own weapon and it hummed, a few lights turning on as he did so.

"What are those?" Roran questioned.

"Self-recharging energy cells for the Crusaders," Cruurtun explained, shrugging, "We'll never completely run out of ammunition with them."

"Can we equip anyone else with them?" Eragon asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Muukhuz sighed, "They require training to use, training we simply don't have time to give, at least not in the numbers you're thinking of."

"We'd best get moving," Cruurtun said, "Lady Nasuada, I won't need a horse."

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"Gods, it's one of them!"

"Which one?"

"The white one, I think his name is Cruurtun."

"Lady Nasuada sent Stronghammer too? She must want this siege broken quickly."

Roran shot a glare at the talkers, who immediately closed their mouths. He couldn't blame them for talking, though; he'd barely believed it when he'd first seen Cruurtun and his compatriot. He hadn't believed when he'd heard.

The faint sounds of Cruurtun's movement caught Roran's attention, and he turned to face the white-armoured being. A stray thought flicked through Roran's head; Cruurtun looked more like a dragon than a "tyrant lizard". Shaking that away, Roran noted that those disturbing, glowing blue eyes of Cruurtun's were focussed on Fienster itself.

"Thoughts?" Roran asked.

"The defences won't stop at the wall," the white-armoured "Zian" (a name the pair had adopted lately, given they were natives of the planet Zi) replied, a thoughtful frown in his voice that he couldn't express on his face, "They probably won't be ready for us to break through the gate, but you get some brilliant people in every army. People like you," he added, glancing at Roran, "Quick-thinkers and tactically-minded… This isn't going to be easy."

"The empire seems to care more about fanatical loyalty than quick thinking," Roran pointed out.

"Heh. Something we agree on," Cruurtun stated, "We're fortunate that most of the enemy army is made up of conscripts, who don't want to fight at all. It's mainly them who are the quick-thinkers."

He made a good point, Roran decided later, as he went over the reports on supplies and personnel; quick thinking could completely demolish a plan. It was part of why he himself was so successful.

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Gawain was just a grunt, a Varden volunteer from Surda.

He would go down in history as the first human to see the firing sequence of Cruurtun's Charged Particle Gun at close range in its entirety.

He was fortunate enough to be stationed at the place that the white Zian chose to fire from.

"A clear line of sight to the gate, the same elevation, a firm surface, and a straight shot down the main road," Cruurtun muttered, "Perfect."

He stood up and turned his head to look at Roran, who nodded. He had his forces arrayed as if he were going to send them out in a probing attack, but in actuality had them ready to gather together into a charge through the gate.

Cruurtun knelt, before placing his hands on the ground, and lifting his knees. The silver trimming on the sides of his foot armour slammed down, digging into the hardened ground of the road. The white armour on his tail hinged open, revealing the particle intakes/heat vents. The side units of his backpack snapped open, then his neck armour opened, revealing more intake/vents. Finally, he lifted his head, straightened his neck, and opened his mouth, extending the barrel of the CPG, aiming it square at the gate.

Gawain watched in awe as yellow-gold energy started gathering at the tip of the barrel inside Cruurtun's mouth.

The energy built rapidly, until the sphere took up most of the Zian's mouth, then he dug his claws into the ground, and straightened his body.

And then fired.

The yellow-gold sphere turned instantly into a column of pink energy, with crackles of pink lightning around the edges. In an instant, far faster than any arrow, the beam crossed the distance between Cruurtun and the gate. The wards around the gate, despite not being intended to defend against an attack of this nature, protected the gate… for a split second. The magicians maintaining the wards let out a single, unified cry, before they all died instantly, sucked dry.

The gate itself didn't even last as long; the beam punched through as if it were paper. The beam flew down the main street, and slammed into the first of the barricade, and melted through almost immediately, and, to the horror of the Empire's soldiers, kept going, melting its way through the barricades on the main road, before blasting through the gate of the keep, and finally dissipated after melting halfway through the next wall.

Cruurtun, for his part, skidded two metres backwards, despite his anchoring, digging four trenches into the road as he went. When the beam ended, he vented steam, rapidly cooling back to a safe temperature. Gawain, although half-blinded by the intense light of the beam, jumped backwards to avoid the superheated cloud.

Cruurtun retracted the cannon, and closed all of his armour, before getting up, and studying the damage he had done.

He raised a hand, then dropped it to point at Fienster.

Roran gave a roar, which his men then echoed, before charging towards the city.