T'cal
Violators
Righteous Of The Violators
Posts: 42
|
Post by T'cal on Feb 6, 2012 17:53:20 GMT -5
Power. The feeling, the rush, that surges through your body, letting you know one undeniable fact. You are alive.
T’cal grinned as she vaulted across the rooftops with ease, her feet hitting for merely a split second before pouncing back into the air over the city. Starlight struggled to catch her through the haze of city lights but to no avail. This rundown part of Neo-Tokyo was quiet, but the stench could overwhelm those unprepared for it. Death, mold, and rot all assaulted the senses as did the homeless and shameless who wandered the streets. She finally stopped over a dark, rusted building that proclaimed “Zara Apartments” in faded neon red lights. She flexed her arm; the new armor gleamed in the moonlight and the Righteous was pleased. “It’s testing perfectly,” she muttered to herself. “Easily the best job we pulled was snagging this prototype from that Mutt. Boy will he be hot when he finds out who’s wearing his prized creation.” Silently, she sauntered to the edge of the building, looking out over the city. The center was brilliant with lights and noise, the pulse of life. The GTC and their worthless Teams held that part of Tokyo with an iron fist seeped in corruption. Anger boiled up in her as she seethed, thoughts about the GTC rolling in her mind until she let loose a roar and turned a chimney into dust with her fist. T’cal took a second to marvel at the display until an idea clicked. She would show them just how insignificant they truly were, how powerful the gangs were. With a soft run and leap, the Righteous was dancing between buildings once again as she headed home.
“Alright, boys, listen up!” she hollered over the miscreants that served her. The ragtag group paid full attention as the massive throne room sparked with curiosity. “We did damn fine in stealing this armor from Mutt-boy last night and it works fantastically. You all got some great gear and cash out of it.” Her crew grinned and a few high-fived each other while most just fondly stroked their newest weapon. “Last night we left our mark amongst the gangs and, more importantly, we left a message; no one is safe from us! Tonight, boys, we leave our mark on those pesky Teams and all of Tokyo. Tonight, we’re going to whack that cocksucker Kei Katsu!”
The excitement and clamor drained from the room as the gang members looked at each other in shock. They knew their boss came up with some haphazard plans from time to time, but this was suicidal. If they simply just waltzed into the GTC building they wouldn’t be given the option of being arrested, just filled with bullet holes.
“Uh, boss?” one of the braver crew asked hesitantly, his muscles tense in case he had to dodge a bullet. “Us tryin‘ to walk in there…well, tha’ sounds like straight up suicide, yanno? ”
T’cal nodded and smirked, sending chills up her crew’s spine. “Oh, none of you will be going anywhere near there.” There was a small sigh of relief, all of them knowing there was something far worse coming. “No, instead half of you will be robbing a bank partly as a distraction - and because who doesn’t enjoy a good old fashion bank robbery?”
The crew chuckled and began discussing in low whispers which bank would be best to hit and how. The brave one shifted nervously around before speaking up. “And what will the otha’ half be doin’?”
“You know those quick-charge pulse rocket launchers we got last night? Well, those are still experimental. They need to be tested for our good pal, Mutt. So we’ll test them on a couple of targets throughout the city.” T’cal’s armored fingertips traced the Thunder Gate on the map that rested on the heavy round table. “Two of you will see just how much of a punch these bad boys can put into the heaviest defended Team HQ. The others have free reign over your targets, but be sure to stress these new toys as much as possible before you head home. After all, we have a profit to keep up and I know a few potential buyers.” This cheered the gang up and many were already puffing up their chests at each other, making bets as to who could kill the most in one shot or pull off the most outrageous stunt. The rambunctious mob stomped off bragging and discussing tactics, leaving T’cal alone in her throne room. Silence enveloped the stone walls as the Righteous draped herself across the arm, staring at the ceiling. Little droplets of water plinked against the stone floor in rhythm as if attesting to the emptiness of the room.
“And boom,” she murmured softly to the ceiling, her fingers twirling the necklace absently. “Boom goes the whole damn town.”
As plans and schemes swirled in her head, she could feel the anticipation building up like jolts coursing through her body and in a flash, she was up and over to her computer. Using one of her multitude of anonymous call programs, she left a voicemail for the leader of Thunder Force, Kaze Falken.
“Tonight we play a little game, Limp Wrist Kaze. Katsu may be with the GTC, but being so vehement about having an “aggressive response“ toward the gangs wasn‘t a bright idea. The game is simple: stop me from killing Katsu or stop hundreds of innocent civilians from dying. The choice is yours‘.”
A smile slowly curved up the sides of her lips as she finished the message, knowing he would have no way to trace it back to her. “Time to play, little mousy.”
|
|
Kaze Falken
Thunder Force
Fist Of Thunder Force
Fangs of Neo-Tokyo
Posts: 52
|
Post by Kaze Falken on Feb 6, 2012 23:46:57 GMT -5
Kaze’s office was lined with models and other personal items while highly upbeat music filled the air. The Fist’s desk was covered in a mess of pizza boxes, half finished paperwork, an LED monitor for his computer and the Fist’s booted feet as he reclined back on his custom built chair.
Today had been a good day for Kaze and Thunder Force. The brass had finally gotten around to sending a long awaited shipment of weapons that completely restocked the Teams armoury. While technically it was only half a shipment, the other half arriving nearly a fortnight earlier, the new weapons greatly improved the Teams overall firepower.
The previous shipment had been almost entirely comprised of landmines and grenades. The latest shipment had been filled to the brim with Enforcers and Liberators, not to mention a few Vindicator miniguns. Kaze had seen to it the weapons where distributed amongst his forces as best he could with the Vindicators mostly being set up as mounted guns due to the low number of Thunder Force members able to actually lift the things.
In addition to weapons the entire Team had been issued new uniform armour. Kaze gazed at the suit that had been custom fitted to his frame, it was in black and gold, Thunder Force colours, and was a full body combat armour that didn’t hinder mobility at all. In addition it provided excellent protection with its combination of Kevlar and ceramic plates.
Supposedly it was based on old SWAT armour but given a whole lot of Post-Drop enhancements that improved its ability overall. Not that it really mattered to Kaze, to him those where just details he’d never remember anyway.
There had also been a handful of energy weapons in the shipment as well as a note from a friend of Kaze’s from the R&D department which mentioned development of a new kind of armour meant to further improve the Teams combat efficiency… in fact it’s supposed to double it.
Kaze didn’t care about the numbers, if they said it would help him fight better that was all he needed to know.
The only thing that had any weight in his mind was thoughts of the defector, T’cal. She’d been his second-in-command and had known as much about Neo-Tokyo’s defensive strategy as he had, probably more. The idea they would clash someday had been weighing on him for some time and had lead to a kind of paranoia…
That’s when he received T’cal’s voice mail message. She was using a program to disguise her voice, but none of the other Righteous would have the audacity to refer to him by such a name. She was also the only one he wouldn’t put on a shit list for it.
The giant’s reaction was swift and immediate, “All Thunder Force Personnel! Battle Stations Level 4. I want everyone equipped, armed and in their assigned positions in ten minutes. Arm all defence towers and Pulse Fields, set Thunder Gate to Stage 2 Battle Mode.” His orders carried all throughout Thunder Gate and Thunder Forces outposts and action was swiftly taken by his subordinates.
“The enemies Primary Target is Councilman Kei Katsu, I want a full security unit sent to protect the council in addition to two extra teams focused on protecting Katsu. All other units are to prioritize protecting civilians.”
With his orders sent Kaze stood and walked to the armour rack. Things had changed since T’cal had left; Kaze’s paranoia had led to a more aggressive recruitment strategy and with it more personnel to throw around. More over, he’d changed up all the old patrol routes and defensive doctrines.
Neo Tokyo was not the playground T’cal used to play in, now it was Kaze’s playground.
As the giant stomped out of his office clad head to toe in his new Security armour, an oversized Enforcer handgun on his hip and a massive Liberator strapped to his back he thought on where T’cal would strike personally.
His gut told him she’d try and take Katsu herself, but the more cunning part of him, a by product of his being manufactured by a Gang suggested she’d may act as a diversion, letting her underlings attack Katsu.
The hybrid realized he had only one logical course of action.
Wait and see.
|
|
|
Post by Beowulf Keyes on Feb 7, 2012 11:08:52 GMT -5
Beowulf sighed heavily as he adjusted the tie he had been forced to wear since his "permanent" employment at Kast Korp. He had been given a thirty-third floor office with a stunning view, company slush fund access, and a fantastical dark limo, but none of that mattered to Beo. He had to wear a goddamn tie and suit. Even if it was Armani...
He had come in at eight, a full two hours late, which was fairly common because, as Beowulf reasoned to the alarm clock every morning, the cases did not arrive on the floor until around eight-thirty. Usually a mountainous stack of the manila folders told the sad tales of struggling businesses and people who needed their legs or other appendages removed for failure to commit, which meant they couldn't pay. It was a faithless job, but someone had to do it.
This morning was different however, and Beowulf's first indication of this was the delivery of only a single file to his pre-drop Venetian desk. Hunter's curiosity made him nearly pounce on the lightened workload. Flipping through the pages of the case file, he came to several full-page photographs of showing an armored, cybernetic enhanced female rushing by a Kast Korp warehouse, stealing secure tech from a a man Beo didn't recognize. The woman however... "T'cal......"
---------------------------------------------------
The office phone slapped the line closed for what seemed to Beowulf like the millionth time. He had put his best foot forward and gotten the word out that he wanted to meet with the Righteous of the Violators and open business dealings. Since the Darkstalkers had gone hardcore underground, Kast Korps weapon supplies had been seriously lacking.
Beo had done all he could, he would have to wait for the Righteous to make her move, but he knew where to look....
|
|
T'cal
Violators
Righteous Of The Violators
Posts: 42
|
Post by T'cal on Feb 8, 2012 2:54:06 GMT -5
There was no better sight in the world than seeing her enemy flinch and T’cal grinned as she peered down into the Thunder Force’s compound. Blending into the shadows of a three-story building, she witnessed new weaponry being installed; the men handling the tech looked grim as though expecting a massive siege at any moment. While open warfare would be amusing, she simply didn’t have the manpower to wage war against all three Teams. “For now,” she growled and took off across the rooftops once more, each step sparking a new twist for tonight’s plan. Skidding into the sewer entrance, the Righteous quickly took note how empty her base felt. The air lacked warmth and the smell of people working in an enclosed, hidden workshop where the Violators assembled their black market tech. She strolled into the assembly area, pleased at the volume of weapons and illegal gadgets her gang cooked up before they went off for the night festivities. Ever since the Darkstalkers went dark, business was booming.
T’cal collected a few necessary items before striding into her throne room. One of her gang was sitting anxiously by the stone table and jolted to his feet at the sight of her. “Ma’am! Word is some bureaucrat from Kast Korp wants to speak to you.”
“Oh?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Probably need a new black market source, she mused. “Get word back to him; we’ll meet in the morning. Then get back to partying.”
“Got’cha!” the boy picked up his briefcase and rushed out in excitement. Tonight would be the shindig of a lifetime and everyone was invited. A dozen nondescript briefcases currently wandered the city and each carried a pulse rocket launcher with the city’s name on it. Once the boy was long gone, the cyborg gathered the last of her gear and slumped onto her throne. Fingers entwined in her necklace, she ran through her plan, reviewing each step with meticulous efficiency, waiting until the time was right for her to join the world.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hisao danced through the streets, barely able to contain his excitement. Cast out from society, the Violators recruited him with promises of anything his heart desired. While the excess of any sinful thing was available to him and he enjoyed every bit of it, his heart truly wanted vengeance against the city that turned its back to him. Today was that day and Hisao would be there to pull the trigger. Spotting a rundown building, he gracefully climbed the pipe and through a window on the upper floor. Always cautious, the boy did a quick once-over of the apartment, ensuring not a soul would disturb him. He paused at the dusty pictures on the nightstand. A family smiled back at him with their arms wrapped around one another. Hisao snarled at the picture, memories long buried resurfacing, before smashing the frame with his fist. He barely noticed the glass pierce the side of his palm and watched the thick liquid drip onto the shattered picture frame, letting each drop shove those painful memories back into the little box to be locked away forever.
Shaking his head to clear it, Hisao quickly barricaded the door with a heavy shelf to keep anybody with too much curiosity from poking their nose into his business. Assembling the pulse rocket launcher was a simple matter and he marveled over the weapon with a soft touch of fingertips. Sleek and silver, the destructive power from this weapon was self-generated plasma that could travel nearly half a mile. The plasma could melt flesh from bone and even slag the toughest armor out on the market, legit or otherwise. The kid did a quick second check before he was satisfied and set the launcher next to him on the floor. It was time to wait until the signal…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everything checked out. Her gang was ready and her own nest was set up. A massive plasma rotary cannon mounted on a tripod was pointed at the building directly across the street. Able to pop over seven thousand plasma bolts per second, it could easily rip apart Katsu’s guard hiding even through the thick walls of the GTC building. T’cal felt the excitement tingle to her fingertips. She was about to turn this whole damn city upside-down and all she needed was an audience. One quick call to her old teammate was all it would take.
“Hello Kaze. I know you can trace this call, so you best hurry or Councilman Katsu will have a very unpleasant day. Starting right about…now.”
With that, T’cal grasped her necklace and opened fire on the building, letting Kaze hear the roar of the rotary cannon for a brief second before hanging up.
“And now the party begins.”
|
|
Kaze Falken
Thunder Force
Fist Of Thunder Force
Fangs of Neo-Tokyo
Posts: 52
|
Post by Kaze Falken on Feb 8, 2012 5:26:27 GMT -5
Kaze was surprisingly calm as the Councilman’s guard hiding be shredded by a barrage of plasma shots and simply raised a finger to his com unit, “Captain Crux, Report.”
“This is Crux.” Came the calm reply of the leader of the teams sent to protect the Councilman, “We’re fine, things are proceeding as you expected, Sir. We’re headed for point D4; will you be at the rendezvous?”
Kaze looked from where fires where beginning to emerge from the ruined portion of the GTC building to where T’cal’s cannon was located, with a flick of a switch he changed his channel and connected to T’cal’s line. “T’cal, my troops can’t hear me.”
The Giant of an anthro stood atop a building between the GTC building and the main defensive wall looking towards T’cal’s cannon as 340mm cannons mounted on Outpost towers barked, signalling the last moments of the building the cannon had been mounted on.
“Tell me, what is it you hope to achieve?” The giant was genuinely curious, “What is it that you are fighting for?”
After a pause he added, "By the way..." He smirked, "You missed."
--------
Colonel Rodick was an old man. He’d seen more battles and trained more soldiers then anyone else in any of the Teams. He had dedicated sixty years of his life to protecting Neo-Tokyo and had been present when the Teams where originally founded.
Kaze was an upstart with a lot to learn about being a soldier and being a leader, but Rodick was proud to serve under the giant and recognized his potential. When he thought on it, it did seem odd to the old man that he couldn’t honestly say he was more loyal to his city then to his commanding officer.
He was more aware then most of the level of self-serving corruption present in the GTC. The only reason the old man was still a soldier and not on the Council was for that very reason. He couldn’t, wouldn’t be a part of a cancer slowly killing the city he had spent so long defending.
It was Kaze’s ideals of protecting the innocent that kept Rodick from joining T’cal when she turned her back on Neo-Tokyo. When Kaze stood before the Council and denounced Katsu and his plan to burn Osaka to the ground because of the innocent lives living in the city Rodick’s loyalty was solidified.
Kaze was a leader he could believe in, one all of Thunder Force believed in.
If the Council knew their entire military arm would turn on them if Kaze declared them all traitors they’d have had him executed long ago. It was Kaze’s near fanatical attempts to protect the citizens that kept their fears at bay. The common man was his priority, the Council be damned.
Rodick respected the man for that.
Opening his eyes he gazed out across the ruins surrounding Neo-Tokyo and watched his HUD for any signs of hostile. The old man wasn’t clad in the security armour the other soldier wore.
Kaze had chosen him to field test one of the test models of a new line of armour. The old man had to admit it was good to put his old training to good use and this newfangled T-52a was one hell of a suit of armour. It’s lightweight polymer plating was one heck of a step above the titanium alloy plating of the Pre-Drop T-51c, if it was as strong as advertised then the Violators where in for one hell of a surprise.
|
|
|
Post by Beowulf Keyes on Feb 9, 2012 19:29:29 GMT -5
"Lackeys", Beowulf lamented almost under his breath.
Beowulf and the the two excessively muscled Kast Korp suits had been standing in the dilapidated Osakan warehouse for almost two hours. Beo's feeble attempts at small talk fell on mostly deaf head fat. These cretins, judging by the size and number rolls on the back of their heads, were at least advanced bouncers, unarmed but large enough to make Beowulf's small, lean frame ridiculous next to them. Worsts of all he still had to wear damn suit still.
The KasTK* on Beowulf's belt beeped, making him jump and receive a premature adrenalin rush. As he pulled the DarkWeb TK from its pouch, he wondered why he felt so ill at ease. He had raided heavily guarded government installations solo while he had worked work with the Violators. Until T'cal.... The TeleKomunicator showed a call from Lester. The dirty club owner still kept Beo informed after all of these year. It brought a fangy grin to the wolves face. "Yea Les'?" Beowulf said, centering his face in the small camera on the Kom. "Got somethin' yah should probebly see. 1346 in progress."" Lester said, older and darker then when Beo and The Wulfpack played nightly at his establishment. Lester's face smoothly slid on the small pad, changing to several grim scenes. Gaping holes slammed in third-party banks, masked cybernetic enhanced men rushing almost suicidally to raid the contents. Another of a GTC government building, charged with the fairly noble task to rebuild the world's failed economy, destroyed by what appeared to be a Pre-Drop Naval Cannon. Lastly the real-time news footage of plasma cannon discharge in downtown Neo-Tokyo, ripping a GTC office building to shreds. Un-confirmed rumors reported that Councilman Katsu was dead. Beowulf held his temples. Part of the reason he had agreed to employment with the KK was to avoid the GTC vs. Gang fallout. He had found himself stuck on the bigger dicked end of the pissing contest once again.
A banging on the warehouse door brought Beowulf out of his technological revere. Apparently his late business meeting had finally arrived. The lackeys moved to open the door, and were met by a torrent of machine-gun fire. One of them went down in a mess of arterial blood. Beowulf's vision turned red, a rapture of blood-lust. It had been too long since he had made a good blood-bath...
------------------
Beowulf Keyes strode confidently toward his limo, wearing another clean Armani suit being cuffed hurriedly. Sliding into his seat, Beo flipped open his disposable cell and dialed the Thunder Force HQ's primary report line. As he expected, there was no answer, but an automated messenger took his call.
"Kast Korp is willing ta' negotiate with the GTC for weapons contracts. Meet me at ta' Electric Pa'k, noon." Beo hung the phone up.
As the Pre-Drop Cadillac limo drove Beowulf home to the safety of his loft in the regulated heart of Neo-Tokyo, he mussed that instead of getting mutilated on a daily bases, he could simply wade through the destruction and sell the pieces...
|
|
T'cal
Violators
Righteous Of The Violators
Posts: 42
|
Post by T'cal on Feb 10, 2012 14:21:16 GMT -5
T’cal watched as the heavy machineguns ripped apart the building housing her remote-controlled rotary cannon and shrugged. Brick and mortar rained down throughout the streets, pelting the screaming pedestrians who were unlucky enough to still be in the area. The loss of the rotary cannon didn’t concern her. Those were built cheap and the machinegun emplacements were about to be much more difficult to replace as two rockets slammed into them, melting and twisting the metal.
“Tell me, what is it that you hope to achieve?” Kaze asked her on the secure line. “What is it that you are fighting for? Oh, and by the way; you missed.”
The Righteous smiled. Oh Kaze, you fool. “The city is dying, Kaze, and the GTC are trying to keep themselves comfortable for the end. You know this and you know it’s why I left,” T’cal paused for a brief second before smiling. “I’m just here to usher in the end and restart it all.”
Suddenly, explosions rippled across the city and the sounds of fire alarms and emergency sirens could be heard starting up. T’cal’s gang had spread themselves throughout Neo-Tokyo, hiding until they were given the initiate command. Jockeying up the launchers, they began firing into crowded buildings of all types. Apartments, schools, businesses. The target didn’t matter, only the body count. Men, women, even children of all types had their lives ripped away by the massive explosions while dozens more ran screaming in terror. The two rocketeers tasked to the Thunder Gate launched their volleys at the base, targeting any gun emplacements they could find and left quickly to hit some other parts of the city.
Back in her sewers, T’cal worked obsessively over the computer, her feet bouncing energetically and her necklace swaying from the motion. She could hear the gang trudging in from their tasks, each bragging loudly about how many deaths they racked up or the number of buildings they collapsed. There was a couple who were missing, but that was to be expected with a power play of this scale. The Righteous bounced up from her chair and leaned against her throne, smiling at her crew. They gathered around and anxiously awaited to hear the reports.
“Boys,” she started, pausing for a little dramatic flair. “We pulled a job so ballsy today that the Teams are still scratching their heads. Sadly, Katsu got away.” The gang sighed and shrugged. “However, we murdered something far more valuable: their security. From now on, they know to fear us. They know we can hunt them down anytime, anywhere.” Her boys cheered, growling joyfully at the idea of the GTC hiding under their desks as they worked.
“And so, I have a special after-party for us,” T’cal continued, grinning at their confusion and opened a back door that revealed over a dozen women and half that in men all chained together with shock collars around their throats. The Violators had a successful slave trade, but most of the slaves were handled off-site in case of escapees. Tonight, these slaves were cleaned up and dressed in revealing garments, ones that left nothing to the imagination as they were shuffled into the throne room. Her crew hooted in pride for they knew that while drugs and mass binging were common place, they had pleased their Righteous if she was bringing in slaves. And what better way to use nearly two dozen slaves then having a massive orgy. “You did well, Violators! Now enjoy!” The gang rushed to the slaves, ripping clothes away and falling into a disorganized dog pile of flesh. The air in the throne room quickly grew heavy and warm as the bodies descended into animalistic lust.
Slipping out quietly, the cyborg breathed deep the cool morning air and sighed. A Righteous’ work was never done and sent off a meet up location to that Kast Korp bureaucrat who wanted to speak with her. After a quick hit of a new drug that just arrived on the market, T’cal stretched her muscles before running into the city, daylight just peeking over the horizon.
|
|
Kaze Falken
Thunder Force
Fist Of Thunder Force
Fangs of Neo-Tokyo
Posts: 52
|
Post by Kaze Falken on Feb 10, 2012 22:52:06 GMT -5
The plasma rockets had activated the defensive structures all across Neo-Tokyo, auto-turrets bursting from walls and the pavement and blasting away at anything designated as hostile with 20mm shells. Kaze jumped off the building he’d been using as a perch and jogged towards Katsu’s safe house while still on the line to T’cal.
“You choose to usher in a new era with the slaughter of innocent lives?” Kaze’s tone was that of one who felt truly betrayed, “Katsu wanted to bomb Osaka out of existence; I’m the only one who stood in his way… why? Because of the innocent lives that live there.”
He grit his teeth and growled, “I was never loyal to the GTC, only ever the innocents that needed my protection.”
One of T’cal’s underlings rounded the corner in front of Kaze and nearly fell over herself at the sight of the giant of an adversary barrelling at her. Unlike her compatriots she was armed with nothing more then an HD Needler, her fear preventing her from pulling the trigger.
Kaze barely slowed down as he ran straight passed the girl. He could see in her eyes that she was different; she only joined Violators so she wouldn’t be a victim of one of the other Gangs. He felt letting her go would send a small message to T’cal, that he treated everyone, even enemies, with grace.
“T’cal, it is now my mission to see your Violators destroyed and broken. This is now a war T’cal, and I will win without slaughter those who want nothing more then to live in peace. When I stand over you in victory, I will be the one to usher in a new era… in a land free of corruption.”
The roar of gunfire and screams of the innocent filled the air as Kaze ran. While T’cal was right about the GTC itself and Kaze intended to correct that flaw, but harming the innocent was not the way to go about it. Quietly he wondered if T’cal would understand what he meant, that he agreed with her reasons, just not her methods.
-------------
Colonel Rodick had seen a lot of combat, been shot at by a lot of weapons, seen many defensive structures. But the Violators plasma weapons where more effective then simple Plasma grenades or a Plasma Caster. Even so, even these new weapons where unable to kill Rodick thanks to Neo-Tokyo’s armour smiths.
Sections of the T-52 armour had been melted off but buried within the suit Roddick remained unharmed and the armour itself remained functional. Once all the troops in Thunder Force had been trained and enough suits for everyone to wear had been built Neo-Tokyo’s military arm would be unstoppable.
Roddick turned his gaze to Thunder Gate, specifically at where a barrage of plasma shells had impacted the base and shook his head. Kaze’s made scheme for the base had resulted in some of the most absurd design features in the history of base building. However it was the fact only the detachable emplacements that had suffered permanent damage from the attacks that struck awe in the old man.
Once the base was fully operational it would be a terror to behold.
--------------------
“Kaze!” Katsu roared as the giant stepped into the safe house; “I’ll have your incompetent head for this!” the councilman sneered and glared at the anthro who towered over him with the out-of-place superiority only a politician could muster, “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t opposed me! Now the people suffer because of you! I’ll see you-“ Katsu stopped his ranting in shock as Kaze levelled a Violaters Ripper rifle at the Councilman’s face.
“No, Kei, you attracted their ire. You where simply the loudest amongst a group the Gangs despise, you became a of everything they hate about Neo-Tokyo.” Kaze explained as the troopers he assigned to guard Katsu began to file out without saying a world. Crux and his subordinates where among Kaze’s most loyal supporters, “You brought this down on our home, Kei, now it’s time to face the music.
The gunshot was deafened by the Safe House’s soundproofing.
That night T’cal received one last message from Kaze, “Katsu is dead.”
|
|
|
Post by Tsolanth on Feb 12, 2012 20:54:09 GMT -5
Tsolanth dug his claws further into the earth at the roof of Neo-Tokyo's cave and craned his neck to peer at the city below. It was the first time he'd ever seen the city. Before, as the leader of Eternal Darkness and without the ability to masquerade as a human to get past the GTC's checkpoints, his only way in would have been a full assault, and he'd been assured that the GTC had invested heavily in anti-dragon hardware that would make such an attack difficult, if not suicidal. The memory of these soft little mammals was blissfully short. A few years without the dragon and such overblown countermeasures were either dismantled or sufficiently neglected to render them useless.
Neo-Tokyo might have been idyllic on any other night. It was built as a safe haven from the perils of the above world and the ravages of the gangs. Tonight, however, the lax attention had cost them. Dust bloomed above the shattered facades of several GTC buildings, and the flashes of pulse cannons still twinkled like stars where the gang attackers had been too slow in escaping the vengeance of Thunder Force and now battled them in the streets. In one place in particular, a bank, the protracted effort of the robbery had turned the once beautiful building into a shooting gallery. The powerful flashes of the pulse cannons mixed with the light of more conventional firearms as the gang desperately fought to escape the Team. They would probably manage it too. Thunder Force was obviously prepared for the gang strike, but were spread so thin that they couldn't have known where it was coming. Only a few team members joined the peacekeepers in trying to stop the robbery, though others were on their way. Tsolanth didn't particularly care about their squabble.
What he did care about, however, were the lovely bags of money making their way out of that bank.
Neo-Tokyo's overhead lighting was off for the night, so as long as Tsolanth managed to keep from crossing under any significant source of light, he should be invisible to the groundlings. He released his hold on the ceiling of the cavern and let the wind fill his wings, gliding noiselessly to an area near the bank being robbed and over the line of escaping gang members. Subtle adjustments of the angle of his wings and deft manipulation of the air kept him aloft and on target as he scanned the ground for the peacekeepers. He noticed a low, wide building to his right and called up a headwind to gently slow down, settling on it almost daintily and then crouching low and dragging his belly as he crawled to poke his head over the edge of the building.
There.
The four gang members he'd noticed came into view, two with the large pulse rifles slung across their backs acting as escort and two more with giant duffel bags full of what could only be yenko. Stragglers who’d gotten too greedy and were left behind when Neo-Tokyo exploded into chaos, they were moving quickly and making a decent effort at silently through the alleys to avoid the sweeps of Thunder's Fist. The presence of the escort made his task somewhat more difficult. If he attacked and went for the yenko, he risked the vengeance of the pulse rifles. If he attacked the fighters, it would be noisy, and he'd have a tough time finding the couriers after. Instead, Tsolanth brought his hind legs to the side of the building as well and let his long, prehensile tail slither down the three stories to the ground. By the time the courier, trailing the pack, noticed the rasping scales coiling around his neck, he was jerked up fifteen meters into the air, his cry of alarm strangled in his throat.
The sharp rapport of auto-turrets echoed through the city, muffling the popping and crunching of an anthropomorphic male being systematically squeezed like an overripe fruit between Tsolanth’s massive claws. He delicately set aside the bag of money and slithered to the edge of the building and dropped him with a wet smack behind the group.
|
|
|
Post by Beowulf Keyes on Feb 14, 2012 10:34:17 GMT -5
Exhausted and filled with blood-lust, Beowulf returned to his thirty-third story corner office. He violently discarded the woolen suit jacket on the floor and loosened the magenta tie he wore almost two lengths, sighing heavily as he did so. Because he had an appointment at sunrise, Beo had opted for the first and third shift, rather than his regular five in the morning until five at night work day.
Through bleary eyes Beowulf began the lenghty task of sifting over every Kast Korp employee, past and present. If Mateo had not been lying when he had said Beowulf was to be a CEO someday, then the information would be invaluable. However, Beo was looking for another purpose. His computer screen settled on a recent re-hire.
The picture was fuzzy, the Korp ID photo looked like a cross between a donkey and a kiddie pool, but if his credentials were correct, and they always were, Tsolanth would be the man for the job. Beowulf pulled out his KasTKom and sent his current kase report to Tso's kom. If Mateo and Shriker had taught Beowulf anything, it had been delegation, delegation, delegation.
Beowulf rubbed his eyes, while he rocked back in his desk-chair, putting his furry arms behind his head. With any luck Tso would receive the message, and Beo took comfort in the thought that, perhaps, he would only have to deal with reasonable people tomorrow.
Beo spent the rest of the night packing for a fantastic picnic in Electric Park. Hopefully, Beowulf thought, a reasonable and rational business deal could go down once in Neo-Tokyo.
|
|
|
Post by Tsolanth on Feb 15, 2012 18:27:08 GMT -5
Tsolanth worked at a small piece of bone stuck between two of his teeth with his tongue, idly contemplating just belching up enough fire to blast it out. With dawn only a couple hours away, that seemed a bit indiscreet. The previous owner of the bone lay shivering and whimpering a few yards away, suffering through the effects of shock. She no longer kicked or clutched at the blackened stumps that had been her legs, but probably only because she couldn’t muster the strength or focus to curl up again. Little halfie bitch. She was obiously some kind of rodent hybrid, but Tsolanth had failed to guess that she was also capable of telekinesis. She’d dropped the pulse cannon when he’d snatched her up, the last of her compatriots, but surprised Tsolanth by levitating the thing around him and pulling the trigger. The shot was poorly aimed- understandable in her particular situation- but had still left a severe ache on his left shoulder and wing. Biting off her legs and cauterizing the stumps with flames was downright merciful in that instance. If she made it through the shock long enough for someone to find her, she might actually live.
In the meantime, Tsolanth, or rather, Shingen, had carefully repacked the hastily snatched yenko into a single duffel bag. Even then he had to lean on it to get the zipper to shut. Satisfied, he shouldered the duffel bag and pulled out his KastKom to request a pickup. No sooner had the machine winked to life than it relayed an incoming message, high priority, from corporate. Tsolanth suppressed a growl that was most unbecoming in this form and started scanning through the Kase File. Meeting at dawn with the Righteous of Violators… His eyes flicked to the legless rodent and he stalked to her. At the sound of his footsteps her eyes snapped open and she lifted a hand feebly in his direction. A wave of telekinetic energy washed over him, but it was no more than he would have felt in a light breeze. He ignored it, and slipped a boot under her shoulder and roughly shoved her over and then put his weight on it, pinning her to the ground. He bent and reached out a hand to grasp the bottom hem of her shirt and rip it upwards, exposing a large tattoo across her back of the Violators emblem.
Well that would be awkward.
He’d noticed the bottom edge when she was trying to crawl away. Now she uttered only a low protestation, and her hands clutched at the belt of her still smoking jeans. Even so, her hips ground slowly into the pavement and his draconic senses picked up the unmistakable smell of feminine arousal. He wrinkled his nose at it and shifted his foot to her skull and leaned hard. Kyoshiro, that misbegotten incubus, had so infused his hedonistic, libertine, sadistic personality into the character of that gang that years later they still bore his indelible mark. Whatever ideas she had that the dragon might rape her disappeared (along with any other ideas) when her skull cracked, spilling grey matter all over the roof they were still on. Tsolanth scraped his boot on her to get some off his shoe and completed the call for the pickup, setting the destination to just outside a nearby bank that had gone under the gang’s radar and survived the night unmolested.
---~~~---
The artificial sun was casting a pale, warm illumination through the bruised city when Shingen barged into the bank with his duffel bag. The bank manager, just beginning to open up for the morning, glanced at him harshly.
“Pardon me, sir,” he said tartly, “but the bank does not open to the public for another half hour. You will have to leave until then.”
“Ah, dear friend, I can see you have not recognized me.” Shingen replied warmly, “I’m your special client”
“Sir I don’t know what you’re-“
“I have a very large deposit today,” Shingen went on, interrupting him. He dropped the duffel bag on a desk near the bank manager, crushing a family photo of the desk’s owner, and pulled it open to reveal the neat stacks of yenko within. “Most of it is going to my personal account, of course, but like always I need you to take a fifth and deposit it into the Kast Corp. account.”
The bank manager’s eyes widened first at the bag of money and then again at the mention of Kast Corp. He stammered something about account numbers and Shingen held out two small slips of paper to him. When he took them, Shingen’s hand latched onto his wrist and gripped him firmly. He allowed a trickle of heat to radiate through his palms as he continued to smile pleasantly at the bank manager.
“I’ve already counted it. The total deposits are on the slip as well. I trust, as per our usual arrangement, that you’ll remember to keep Kast Corp.’s business operations strictly confidential, yes?”
The bank manager nodded, and Shingen released him, leaving the forearm of his cheap sports coat smoking slightly. With another warm smile, the Kast Corp. operative spun on his heel and left the bank, sliding into the front seat of the blacked out sedan waiting outside. The driver, another operative, had already been briefed on the assignment and rolled smoothly away from the bank without a word. Shingen leaned back into the plush seat and pulled a small cloth out of the glove box, leaning forward to get the last specks of brain matter out of the grooves of his boots. It would be terribly uncouth to meet a business contact without clean shoes.
-----~~~~~-----
Shingen stepped out of the sedan into the crowded Osakan street and brushed an imaginary piece dust from the front of his tunic. He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled through the river of people going about their business in front of the busy café that was his target. At the host’s invitation he sat and took a small sip of his glass of water, settling in to wait for the Righteous.
|
|
T'cal
Violators
Righteous Of The Violators
Posts: 42
|
Post by T'cal on Feb 25, 2012 3:55:14 GMT -5
The meeting was set. According to the grapevine, the bureaucrat from Kast Korp would meet her at some café well in the public’s eye. That put a damper on T’cal’s mood as she really enjoyed the feel of the power suit and putting on public attire felt far less fun. It would be a tad risky after last night’s ventures, but if this brought a new avenue for Violator products to get shipped, it’d be worth it.
Entering the basement a tidy little building that hid one of the Violator’s many safe houses, the Righteous slipped into a simple pinstripe suit and tucked a lovely purple nightshade into the lapel. These little flowers were one of the wide array in the gardens the Violators tended to. The majority of the flowers were used for narcotics, but a few were poisonous and T’cal was tickled by the thought someone could mix them up. Figuring trouble would follow her, she stashed her armor for quick retrieval and sauntered out to the café, taking her time as she relished the atmosphere of the city. Sirens still wailed in the distance and whispers of nearby pedestrians drifted to her.
“They say a gang did it!”
“Where were the police? The army? Where the hell were the Teams?! Why did they let this happen?”
T’cal chuckled softly and thumbed her necklace as she walked across a wrecked street. There was a crater beneath a stoplight where a missile had erupted, and the gravel she kicked up created micro avalanches that stopped just short of two bodies. Judging by the size of the charred remains, presumably a child and its parent.
As she rounded the corner to the café, the cyborg immediately took note of the people sitting outside. There were several young couples trying to pretend the world was normal and nothing bad had happened as they drank their coffees; a few businessmen eating their morning breakfast over a laptop, blind to anything that didn’t impact their profits; a well-dressed man sipping a glass of water with a look that immediately snapped T’cal out of her drug-induced bliss. There was arrogance in that look, one that spoke of power to back it up. Who was this that Kast Korp had sent?
She walked inside and slunk up to the bar, still able to see the man. She ordered a gin and tonic, sipping down the bitter fire as she surveyed the rest of the café’s patrons, watching to see if they were taking signals from the man. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business and were only interested in their drinks and conversations. Assured she wasn’t about to fall into a blatant trap, she casually slid into the chair next to her contact and smiled. “Morning, sunshine.”
|
|
|
Post by Tsolanth on Feb 29, 2012 19:59:58 GMT -5
“Morning, sunshine.”
Shingen’s eyes flicked to the woman who’d slipped into the seat across from him and suppressed a flicker of annoyance at her flippant demeanor. She was a cybernetic something-or-other, quite typical of Violators, dressed in an utterly incongruous pinstriped suit with a sharp-looking purple flower in the lapel. She was a square peg in that round hole, from the implants sticking out of her cuffs to her golden eyes and even the insensibly long brown hair that no similarly attired businesswoman would tolerate. Nevertheless the overall impression was darkly pretty. That and her flippant demeanor irritated the hell out of the dragon.
“Miss T’cal I presume?” Shingen smiled warmly, “how good of you to finally join me.”
The Righteous nodded, still grinning, and subtly tilted her gin and tonic to him, acknowledging his greeting.
“My name is Tanaka Shingen, and I’ve been sent here on behalf of Kast Corp to discuss a possible renegotiation of the terms of our special contract. Violators and Kast Corp have always had a congenial and mutually profitable relationship, but unfortunately, increased interference from the Teams in response to ongoing hostilities has dramatically increased our overhead in this delicate relationship. While we respect that the Violator’s priority is their ongoing political dispute with the GTC, it could be said that the brains of your operation have gotten inconveniently underfoot.” Shingen suppressed a sly smile at his private little joke and went on, “We at Kast Corp. think it’s only fair that the terms of our arrangement be subtly adjusted to share this new burden.”
It was the nicest way to put what had been in the briefing. Especially after their little stunt last night, the GTC was going apeshit over the proliferation of weapons making their way to Osaka, and the hounds at Silencer’s Wind knew that Kast Corp was the only entity capable of mediating those kinds of business deals. Only they had the resources to process the shifting economy of weapons, drugs, slaves and money and spit out a pearly white balance sheet for the GTC’s auditors to go blind over. Keeping what was only a thin gauze of wool over their eyes was beginning to bite into Kast Corp’s profits, and the politics of Gang versus Team be damned, nobody but nobody fucked with Kast Corp’s profits. So either Violators had to cover the losses or Silencer’s Wind had to be convinced to be a whole lot less curious. Convinced real hard.
If Kast Corp had its way- and it always did- probably both.
|
|