Futuristic A Final Dawn

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian pounded down the wide corridor, metal-sheathed feet striking the terminal floor with inhuman force. He breathed in a steady rhythm, letting the suit do most of the work as he ran down the hallway, mind deep in thought. His focus flitted from one subject to another, as it was apt to do, sometimes focusing on two subjects at once. His thoughts always concluded on one subject however. Nike, and the events surrounding her. Octavian was internally torn and confused with how things had played out between Nike and himself. It was just supposed to be an easy recon mission, a vacation of sorts, and a way for him to get away from the scheming and political machinations of the capitol.


Nonetheless, things had been anything but simple ever since he had met Nike, one cold winters day in that cafe. Octavian gritted his teeth inside the suit, a low growl escaping his lips as he jumped over a ten-foot tall stack of metal crates, landing on the far side with a thud and continuing on down the corridor. He could feel the armor moving around him, with him, as if an extension of his very body. Which, was true in a sense. It was connected to him in multiple places after all, the embedded metal access ports acting as hard points for the exoskeleton of the suit, as well as creating a dual mind-to-machine link unrivaled anywhere outside of a hivemind. He could feel the pressure of the floor on the soles of the suits metal feet as if they were his own, could feel the hard palms press against the segmented metal fingers of his gloved hand.


His mind drifted back to the subject of Nike, his brow furrowing in anger. He always seemed to do or say the wrong thing when he was around her, even the things he had no control over, such as the implant fiasco in the lab, ended up reflecting poorly on Octavian and turning Nike against him. Even when he did his best to smooth things over and try and ease her transition into the machine that was the Imperial legions.


He felt a deep responsibility to her, as he was after all, the one that had detained her and gotten her into this mess. And from her point of view, everything had started to go wrong the second Octavian showed up. No wonder she associated him with the recent terror and abrupt changes that had thrust themselves into her life.


Octavian came to a slow stop and jumped onto a waiting cargo lift, one hand grabbing onto the braided metal cable as it started to ascend. He looked out over the vast hollow expanse before him as he gained altitude, watching as shuttles and railcars moved along the cavernous space, some loaded with cargo while others carried passengers to one destination or another. The cold blue light of the gigantic foundries deep in the belly of the ship could be seen in distance, and the incessant pulsing of the ships engines could be felt even here. 


Octavian shuddered at the thoughts those sounds invoked. Memories of brutal conflict within the bellies of dead battleships, space hulks infested with the worst kind of vermin, all intent on his destruction.  


He stepped off the lift as he reached the awaited level, passing through a heavy cargo port and onto a wide walkway across one of the open courtyards in the ship. His presence attracted numerous glances and looks, the sight of a full battle suit on an off-duty deck being an uncommon sight.


He leaned over and rested his armored forearms on the burnished dark metal railings overlooking the courtyard.


In point of fact, Octavian couldn't help but feel more then a little uneasy around Nike. Maybe even so far as to call it fear. Psykers were rare, and calling them dangerous was an understatement. Octavian new that he could have easily died back when he first met Nike, and only his quick decision to tranq her immediately had saved him from worse harm. Part of him still couldn't get over that fact. He was used to facing long odds and indomitable abominations of all kinds. But putting that much power into the shape of a young pretty girl..........well, Octavian couldn't help but be caught off guard and forced to continually remind himself that Nike was more than capable of seriously harming him if she so wished.   


His bouts of manic anger and irrational sayings must really paint him as an insane blood-thirsty monster, Octavian mused, a grim smile on his face.        


A squadron of fighter craft zoomed past the viewing window across from Octavian's position. Then another. Octavian straightened, eyes watching the window through the suits pulsing blue visual ports. Another squadron blazed past, Octavian catching a glimpse at their identifying markings.


Aer Legio IX. Octavian frowned and started walking towards the far side of the walkway to get a better look at what was going on. Why would the 9th be here? Aren't they supposed to be on the far side of the planet doing mopping-up exercises?   


A distant thud sent vibrations running through the floor. Silence reigned for a moment, then the general quarters alarm sounded.


Octavian cursed. More explosions could be heard, and Octavian broke into a loping run as he dashed to the turbolift. "What's the situation Cog," Octavian spoke as he waited alone in the lift as it rose, taking him to his quarters to grab his equipment.


"I'm working on it." Cogs voice was tense as he replied, followed by a few moments of silence. "Ok, it looks like a, umm, mutiny? No. Treason is more fitting." 


"I'll need a bit more then that."


"Yes yes, calm down. It seems as if the entire 9th Legion along with a majority of their airwing, along with the cruisers Athena, Salamis and Ferrus and a few smaller vessels have opened fire on the remainder of the fleet."


As if to punctuate his remark, a massive explosion shook the turbolift, causing Octavian to brace himself against one wall. It shuddered again, then continued moving.


"As I was saying, it seems more like a coordinated betrayal then a disgruntled legion angry over missing pay." The doors of the lift opened up as they arrived at the officers berth where Octavian was staying, and any further conversation was cut short.


Heavy rounds slammed into the bulkhead to one side of Octavian's head, the rapid report of automatic weapon fire reaching his ears. "Irrumator!" Octavian cursed and dodged to one side and crouching down behind a metal art fixture. He looked down and saw the dead body of a security Custodia stretched out on the floor, her hand still gripping the automatic firearm lying next to her. He grimaced and pried the weapon from her still-warm grip. "I shall see you fulfilled citizen," he whispered as he brought the firearm to his shoulder.


He took aim and started firing off short controlled bursts, hitting the first two enemy figures that were engaged in the firefight. They looked to be normal Romans, except all had black face masks pulled up to hide their features, as wall as thick strips of black cloth tied to each arm.


The two figures went down with sharp cries and a spray of blood, and Octavian's position came under a renewed hail of gunfire as the remaining traitors took note of him.


Octavian continued to fire back, downing another of the assailants, only to be interrupted when his rifle jammed. He tugged at the action furiously, then threw the weapon aside in disgust, reaching behind and drawing his large-bore sidearm from its rear holster. 


Octavian began to get angry then, the accumulation of the past days mental trauma and emotional cracks rising up in one seething ball of rage. He rose from his shielded position and started walking towards the assaulting traitors, handgun raised in front of him as he took careful aim and squeezed off devastating shots at the enemy position as he moved. He could feel returning fire hit him, dull thuds that slammed into his suits armored plates. He still kept going as the incoming rounds increased to a near frantic pitch as Octavian downed yet another one of the black-masked enemy soldiers. Warning lights started popping up on his suits HUD, notifying him of the increasing damage being done to the suit. He ignored them, eliminating another black-masked soldier with a round to the forehead.           

 

[volchan]

Nike had laid back on her bed in an attempt to rest, but in the end she'd just stared up at the ceiling above her. She felt anxious, but unable to think. She'd learned so much in the past few days that she was still trying to grapple with it all. She still had no idea where her parents were or if they were safe; not to mention this implant nonsense. There were a lot of things she wanted to ask Octavian, but every time they talked now she just seemed to make him angry. Was she just supposed to bow her head, keep her mouth shut, and do whatever she was told? Well...she wouldn't do that. She had no intention of making enemies here, but she wouldn't let herself be taken advantage of either.


She was still brooding over what had happened in the lab and her overall situation when she felt a subtle tremor and a distant noise. Sitting up, she sat there and listened for a moment.


“...What was that?” She said to herself. She wasn't afraid, but whatever had caused that tremor must have been big; a ship this large wouldn't shake for just anything.


She was considering leaving the room to check things out when more distant sounds rang out. They sounded like bursts, like explosions. Nike stood up to leave her room when another explosion went off, this one much closer. The floor seemed to tilt under her and she fell down, feeling the ship quaking around her.


'What's happening!?' She thought, panic now beginning to take over. Were they under attack? By who? Earth?


She moved towards her door. She had to find out what was going on. What if the ship broke apart? What if it blew up? In the midst of all these panicked thoughts she suddenly found herself wondering where Octavian was. Did he know what was going on? Was he injured or fighting somewhere? What if he died? They hadn't gotten along much in the past few days...but she still wouldn't want him to die; especially when the last time they'd talked they'd been angry with each other.


She was close to her door when gunfire rang out from nearby. She could hear screaming and yelling; even cries of pain. She felt her heart begin to pound. Who was on the ship? Who was firing? She wanted to go out and see what was happening, but she had no idea what she was up against. Sure, she could stop bullets, but she didn't know what kinds of weapons these aliens had. What if she couldn't protect herself? She'd be dead in seconds.


'What do I do?' She thought, looking around her room. She had to hide, at least for now. Whoever was attacking was close by, and she wasn't certain her door would hold up to heavy firepower. Until she knew what she was dealing with, all she could really do was hide and try to bide her time. Listening to those screams though...could she really just hide here while people were being shot? She bit her lip, her body tensing at the thought of what might be out there. Until a couple days ago she'd never seen warfare before. Sure, she'd been in dangerous situations, but nothing like this. She had no idea what to expect or how to handle it.


The minutes seemed to pass by like hours as she sat there between the bathroom and the door leading to the hallway, shaking and rocking with anxiety. She had to do it, she had to go out there. She couldn't just sit back and listen to all this. If she had these abilities and didn't use them, what good was she? She shakily stood up and took a deep breath, feeling her nerves ignite as the firing continued outside her door. Every fiber of herself wanted to hide, but she'd always told herself she had to do good with what she had. She may not like the Imperium, but she didn't want anyone to die.


Pulling on her shoes, her eyes remained glued to the door. Should she dash out, or try peeking? If the door opened, would they fire at her right away? She decided it would be best to crouch down and open the door to see what was going on first. She'd be no good to anyone dead, after all. Giving herself a moment to steel her nerves, she activated the door and very slowly peeked out. She felt her throat tighten and her eyes widen at the sight of dead bodies in the hall. There were pools of blood, splatters of blood across the walls, and male and female bodies lying dead...some actually missing limbs or having bones popping out of their skin. The sight of it made her feel sick, but she had to remain aware. Glancing this way and that, it seemed that the attackers were in another location. She could hear more shots coming from down the hall, towards where the elevator was. If she came up from behind, maybe she could catch them by surprise.


'Don't look down...don't look down...' She thought to herself as she carefully made her way down the hall, trying to avoid bodies or blood. She kept against the wall, trying to stay alert even though her mind was beginning to spin. The pit of her stomach felt as if it had sunk even deeper; she was doing all she could to hold herself together even though she was terrified. She'd never seen so much blood and gore. Was this what a war zone was like? What would she do when she found the attackers? What if they shot at her? What if they overwhelmed her? Would she...would she have to kill them? It was apparent that they were dangerous, could she really just incapacitate them?


'I can't...I can't kill.' She thought. Her foot slipped in a puddle of blood and she nearly fell, catching herself on the wall and closing her eyes tightly as she tried not to scream. She hadn't realized until just that moment that she was shaking so hard she could barely walk. What had she gotten herself into? What was she going to do?

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Fearful shouts rose up from the black-veiled mutineers as Octavian continued to advance on them, downing yet another of their number. projectiles continued to slam into his armor, and the left leg suddenly grew heavier as it began to lose power. Octavian gritted his teeth, slamming another magazine into his handgun, the now-empty one falling to the smooth floor. Octavian could feel the bloodlust rise in him as he advanced, the remaining enemy soldiers crouching in what defensive positions they could find in the sparsely furnished hallway.


He glanced behind him and saw that the few remaining Custodia were embrawled with another group of mutineers in a small side passage, weapons fire rising to a furious pitch. Octavian turned back to face the enemy in front of him, a snarl on his lips. He started to run at their position, gaining speed so as to close the distance faster. Bullets continued to slam into him, an exceptionally well placed burst hitting his helm and damaging the visual ports, causing Octavian's vision to go dark as he was forced to gaze directly out at the world through the small slits in the helmet. 


He gave a frustrated growl and tore the now-useless helmet from his head in one quick motion, leaping up as he did so and slamming down onto the crouched forms of two black-veils.


Bone shattered and flesh was crushed into pulp as the massive form of Octavian in his battle armor came crashing on top of the two traitors. Their screams were cut short as Octavian slammed each of their heads into the hard floor with a sharp crunch.


Octavian looked up from his crouched position, dark pools of blood beginning to form under his feet. Shocked silence dominated as the remainder of the mutineers gazed on, wide eyes looking out above their black veils. Octavian bared his sharp pointed teeth in a feral grin. Amateurs. Stopping to gawk instead of eliminating the threat. Must be green troops, Octavian thought in derision, cold anger still swirling within him. The sharp cessation in violence was suddenly broken as one of the black-veils abruptly turned and fled back down the hallway. 


It was if a switch had been flipped, and the remainder of the enemy soldiers raised their weapons and started firing on Octavian.


Octavian lept up and engaged the nearest enemy, swatting aside the muzzle of his gun with a forearm and slamming an armored fist into his sternum. The soldier doubled over in pain and was finished with a bone-breaking jab to the neck. Octavian slowly drew the officers gladius at his hip, the scaled-up version of the standard issue short-sword measuring over four feet long, its length swirling with deep blue currents of energy, casting ominous shadows against the corridors walls. Octavian stood, armored body rising over ten feet in height, seeming to fill the hallway with his presence. Bullets buzzed around him like a swarm of angry wasps, some striking his armor in a spray of sparks as the traitor Romans threw their might at him.


And he started to laugh.


A deep manic howl grew from Octavian's throat as he rushed into the thick of the remaining enemy, shining sword cutting through limbs and torsos as he dealt killing blows with one hand, the pistol in the other spitting death with every pull of the trigger.


The shouts and ragged screams grew to a crescendo as Octavian moved from one enemy to another, green eyes bright and mouth open in demented laughter as he beheaded another of the black-veils with his shining sword. He moved as if unencumbered by the bulky armor, limbs moving with lightning speed, feet sliding along as if in a dance.


A scream was cut short, a battle-rifle clattering to the floor as it slipped from the dead fingers of a beheaded mutineer. Then silence.


Octavian stood, panting, handgun raised and pointed at the kneeling form of one of the black-veils. The enemy soldier stared up at Octavian, hands raised in front of his body as if in preservation. His veil had come undone and now hung to one side, revealing the soldiers face.


Janus, the short Iskarian from the confrontation in the hanger, knelt before Octavian, eyes wide and glaring up at him in unmistakable hate and rage.


Octavian's brow furrowed in a scowl, and his mouth formed a feral grin as he aimed the handgun at the Iskarian's head.                    

 

[volchan]

Nike made her way down the bloody hallway, the sounds of screaming, shouting and gunfire growing louder and louder with each new step. She wasn't sure what to expect or even who the enemy was. Honestly, she was terrified at the idea of coming face to face with whoever was doing this. She'd noticed some of the black-masked bodies lying in the hall; were those the ones attacking?


It felt like an eternity before she reached the fighting. She was far enough back not to be noticed, not that anyone was looking at her anyway. All attention seemed to be focused on a single fighter in a giant mechanical suit. Gunfire sprayed in all directions, causing her to duck into a nearby doorway. She peeked out, eyes wide as she watched the metal giant rush at and knock aside black masked fighters as if they were made of paper. Nike had planned on trying to help, but right now as she watched she couldn't think. She could barely feel anything, other than the subtle shaking of her body or the beaded sweat sliding across her skin.


A large burst damaged the giant's helmet and with a frustrated growl he tore it off, revealing the face beneath as he leapt into the air and landed on a couple of attackers with a loud crunch. The sight and sound of it made Nike's chest seize up. The splintered bone poked out from beneath the two massive feet as rivers of blood began to form around them. Everything seemed to stand still for a moment; even the other fighters had stopped to stare at the horrifying spectacle. Everything was quiet, and then it wasn't. One of the fighters ran away and suddenly every single enemy was firing at Octavian. All Nike could do as he tore apart and killed everything in his path was sit there and watch. She felt cold and her skin had become more pale. As Octavian began to laugh and cut down man after man with his giant sword, Nike felt her stomach finally turn and she vomited. She stared down at the mess under her, her arms weak and barely able to hold her up, as the sounds of bone and blood and death cries muddled together inside her head. She felt something strange inside her then; a vision of broken bodies in a cold alleyway began to rise up into her memory and she quickly shook it off. There was a sort of rush going through her, something shadowy and vile, and the feeling of it was scaring her almost more than the sight of what Octavian was doing. It wanted to come out, it wanted to play, and she knew if it did she'd never forgive herself.


Things went silent again and Nike slowly looked up from her own mess to the one outside her hiding place. Octavian was standing over someone, one of the attackers, and had his massive gun pointed at the man's head. She didn't recognize the man as Janus, but she did recognize the surrendered position. She felt a chill go through her as she realized that Octavian was planning on shooting him anyway. She couldn't see his face at the moment, but she could see the look in Janus' eyes.


She stood up and felt herself move from her hiding place. She felt as if she wasn't really there; that everything was just some strange vision she was having. Even the floor under her feet felt distant to her. She opened her mouth to call out to Octavian, but nothing would come. She felt as if she couldn't breathe, and struggled to even make a sound. She was afraid to go near Octavian, especially as his expression came into view. It was like he was someone else; some kind of monster. She knew that feeling...and she knew what it would feel like when that monster disappeared. She didn't want that. She didn't want anyone else to have to feel like that.


She opened her mouth again to try and speak, her lips quivering.


“O...OCTAVIAN!” She shouted. The force of it took almost all the strength she had left inside. She could feel her eyes burning, but she ignored it and just stared at him. She looked a mess; splattered in blood, pale, and altogether shaken.


“...don't.”

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian turned his head to gaze at Nike, eyes wide and breath coming in short gasps. He stared blankly at her for a moment, then his eyes flashed with a spark of recognition, then realization as he looked down at himself. The dull grey, gold and red of his armor was almost universally obscured by crimson blood, armored plates dented and cracked from weapons fire. His outstretched arm started to shake as the adrenaline of the fight started to wear off, and Octavian put the other gloved hand up to his face, staring as it came away bloody.


What must he look like to her, covered in blood like this, pointing a gun at a kneeling figure. How much of it did she see? His fingers seemed to go numb, and the handgun fell to the floor with a metallic thud from his now loose grip. 


He stared down at his bloody hand, then at the kneeling figure of Janus still glaring up at him. Octavian let out a long sigh, then slammed his fist into the side of Janus's face, sending the Iskarian to the ground in a limp heap.


Octavian leaned against the nearby wall, pressing his back to it and slumping down until he was sitting on the floor. He reached into one of the pouches on his chest and brought out a canteen, his shaking fingers trying to undo the top and failing, Octavian cursing under his breath.

 

[volchan]

At first, Nike was terrified. She wasn't certain that Octavian, in his current mental state, wouldn't attack her. For a brief moment he stared at her, his gaze holding that same intensity that came when he was angry, before, slowly, a look of recognition entered his eyes. She watched as the man's expression went from enraged killer to something resembling a lost child. He seemed mostly unaware of what he'd just done, and slowly looked down at his blood smeared, damaged, armor. He then began to shake. Nike wasn't certain if it was from shock, or something else.


Octavian dropped his gun and Nike felt a huge weight lift off her chest. She cringed when he suddenly struck Janus, but looking at the creature she realized he wasn't dead. She watched Octavian as he leaned against and then slid down the wall until he was sitting, noticing his still shaking limbs. It was at that moment that, for the first time, she felt a similarity between them. Octavian was afraid of himself, just like she was. Just like her he saw what he was capable of and wanted to bury it. Even if he didn't disagree with killing, there was obviously some part of him that was haunted by it. Perhaps he was ashamed that she'd seen him in that light, but she understood.


Nike walked up to Octavian, her legs numb but her mind sharp. The realization that Octavian also had demons to wrestle with had created a strong sense of compassion in her. Reaching out, she gently placed her hands over his shaking ones, stopping him from trying to open the canteen.


“It's okay.” She said softly, watching him. She found herself wanting to comfort him, but she wasn't certain how. She knew what she would have wanted to hear in this situation, but she wasn't sure how Octavian would take it.


“I...I'm not afraid of you.” She assured. She didn't know how Octavian would respond to that, but it was something she'd always wished to hear from her parents...especially her mother.

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavians shaking hands grew still, still clutching the canteen in a vice-like grip. His eyes were unfocused for a time, staring blankly ahead as if seeing some far distant landscape, then snapped back to the present as he looked up and studied Nikes face.


"Afraid?"


This girl was so different. He had just slaughtered an entire squad of soldiers in a matter of moments, and not cleanly either, and her first thought was to say she wasn't afraid of him?


He slipped his armored hand out from under hers and reached up, lightly touching her cheek with one metal encased finger, tracing down to the point of her chin. A gleaming trail of blood was left behind on the side of Nikes face from Octavians glove as he let the hand drop to his side. 


Octavian closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall, a low laugh escaping his lips. "You should be. There are few things in this galaxy as dangerous as I."


One eye flickered open as Octavian looked over at Nike. "And you may be one of them."


Octavian gave a rough cough and smiled. "Imagine that, you as the most dangerous thing in the galaxy." He started to laugh, which quickly turned into a round of violent coughing. He turned his head to the side and away from Nike just in time as a spray of blood poured from his mouth with a particularly violent cough a moment later. Octavian coughed again, spraying even more blood.


"I should probably get that checked out later," he mumbled, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

[volchan]

“Afraid?”


---


“Don't get me wrong...” She started, “...I was-am-definitely afraid of what you did...but I'm not afraid of you. I guess what I mean is...I don't think you're a monster.” She explained, still staring at him. Honestly, she didn't want to look anywhere else. She was standing in gore, splattered with it, and she was certain she wouldn't be able to get those images of Octavian slaughtering his enemies out of her her head for a very long time. She could only imagine what kinds of dreams she was going to have after today. In fact, a part of her still felt like she was in a dream. Things felt a little cloudy at the moment, possibly due to shock after watching so much bloodshed.


Nike watched as Octavian moved one of his hands and reached out towards her. Her first instinct was to move away, but she didn't. She just stood there as he brushed a single, bloody, finger from her cheek to her chin, leaving a trail of blood behind. She looked a bit confused by the gesture, especially as Octavian leaned back and gave a small laugh. Listening to what he said next, she got the impression he thought her foolish for not being afraid of him. Did he want to be feared? Sure, of course he'd want his enemies to fear him, but his companions? His allies? Now that she thought about it...was she either of those things to him? Based on how he'd treated her and spoken of her in the past, it was fairly obvious he didn't see her as equal to him, and she wasn't confident that he trusted her either. So...what were they, then? Captive and keeper? Was that all? Maybe she was foolish.


Her line of thought was broken when Octavian added that she may be just as dangerous as him. She stared at him, feeling herself tense slightly. If the tables were turned, and Nike had been the one caught killing droves of people, how would he have responded? How would he see her? Part of her wondered if the Imperium wouldn't be pleased with such results, but that's not who she wanted to be. She never wanted to become that thing again.


“I hope that's not true.” She responded, moving her hands back to her sides. She gingerly reached up and touched the blood he'd left on her face, cringing a bit at the feel of the semi-dried liquid on her skin. The sensation caused a memory to rise up from the depths of her mind; a memory of a steamy, tile-floored, bathroom. Of herself suddenly aware, only to find herself standing under a hot shower with blood staining her skin. It was fresh, and rinsed off almost too easily. She stood there, shaking, as she watched the last of it slip down the drain.


She closed her eyes for a moment to focus herself, having realized she'd begun to tremble again. She didn't want to remember anything like that; especially not now. Had she looked like Octavian when it happened? Had she laughed? Why was it that watching Octavian kill like that had stirred something up inside her? Was her other self really that vile? If so, how long would it be before it broke out again? She didn't want to hurt anyone else...she had to tell Octavian before it was too late.


“O-Octavian...I...”


Octavian suddenly began coughing up blood and she stopped, her eyes widening at the sight of it as a whole new wave of fear swept over her. That's right, he'd just been in a big fight. Now was not the time to sit and discuss her concerns. As he continued to violently cough up blood, Nike got even closer, worry spreading across her face.


“Later? That looks pretty serious!” She responded anxiously.


“We should go now...or...wait....” She trailed off, glancing back for a moment at the passed out Janus.


“Is it even safe? Now that I think about it, who are these people? What happened?” She asked, looking back to Octavian for answers.


“I mean, they're obviously not human, so what's going on?”


It had barely been an hour since the attack had started...were there more enemies scattered around the ship? How many of them were there? Was it safe to remain here in the hallway; especially if Octavian was unwell?

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian gave another short cough, then brought up the canteen still held in one hand and put it to his lips, drinking from it. He offered it to Nike, then re-screwed the lid and put it back in his front pocket. 


"I'll be fine. One of my ribs must have punctured a lung, but I can run on the remaining one for the time being." He got to his feet slowly, the powered joints of his armor making a low whirring sound. He walked over to where the slumped form of Janus lay on the floor, reaching down and picking up his previously discarded handgun. He checked it for damages, racking back the slide and testing the action then sliding it back into his hip holster. He kneeled down in front of Janus's limp body and rolled him over, placing his hands behind his back. He detached a set of restraints from his belt and secured them to Janus's wrists. He hoisted the unconscious Iskarian up by his vest and leaned him against a nearby wall out in the open.


"I've already marked his location for the Custodia, they'll make sure to pick him up for interrogation." Octavian paused to look down at the limp form, an angry frown on his face. "Good thing Janus was always such a cowered. Protocol is to kill yourself if captured doing a raid like this, so as to not give the enemy any chance at getting information out of you." He laughed darkly. "Janus will soon regret not taking his own life once the questioners get a hold of him. Treason is not taken lightly."


He reached down and picked up a discarded battle rifle, inserting a new magazine and charging the action. "To answer your previous question, no, it is far from safe, but that is to be expected. As far as to who these people are? Well, mutinies are not uncommon in some places, but to happen in a first-rate legion, and with such professional coordination, this seems to be more than just a group of disgruntled legionaries." Octavian looked at the surrounding aftermath of the skirmish. Broken bodies, pools of blood and discarded weapons littering the corridor. A weariness seemed to settle upon his shoulders for a moment, then he glanced back at Nike, his battle rifle in the ready position. 


"You can return to your room if you wish. Security details will be here soon, and you can go with them to a more secure place." He paused for a moment, as if thinking on his words.


"Or you can follow me. I will be making a stop at the armory to get re-geared, then I will continue to fulfill my oath." 


"It will not be bloodless."  


Octavian bowed his head and closed his eyes. "If....If you want to talk about this later, I would like that." A wry grin formed on his lips as he looked up, shouldering the rifle. "My place tonight?"

 

[volchan]

Nike refused the canteen when it was offered to her, watching as Octavian put it away.


“Really? With one lung?” She asked, looking slightly skeptical. Was it true, or was Octavian really just pushing himself to continue? She knew she certainly wouldn't keep going with a punctured lung, but she also didn't have all the experience, training, and advancements Octavian did.


She stood back and watched as Octavian checked weapons and restrained Janus. As he began to describe the protocol for capture, as well as the fate that awaited the prisoner, Nike felt chills creep up her spine. She may have spared Janus from death for the moment, but it seemed he was in for an even worse time. In the end he'd probably be executed anyway...but at the very least she'd kept Octavian from murdering a surrendered enemy.


“I wonder if the Imperium's methods are as brutal as our own.” She thought aloud, staring at Janus. There wasn't anything she could do about the torture, at least not at the moment. All she could do was try to make a terrible situation somewhat less terrible.


“Are you saying there may be something bigger behind it? Like they were planning this all along?” She asked, watching as Octavian readied his rifle. She couldn't understand why this group would attack now. It seemed so out of the blue to her; especially when it appeared as if they were outmatched. Octavian alone had devastated anyone who crossed him; she couldn't imagine what the higher-ups could do.


When Octavian offered her two options, she hesitated. Of course she wanted to go back to her blood and violence-free room. She'd seen enough carnage already to keep her awake for weeks. However...as much as she wanted to just go wash off and stay somewhere safe and quiet, she couldn't leave Octavian to do all this alone. She felt anxious after how her other half had responded to the killing, but would she be any better off running away? Was she stupid for believing that she might be able to help?


“I want to go with you...” She answered slowly, her eyes hesitantly settling on Octavian's face.


“Maybe....maybe if I knock them out of the way, you won't have to kill so many.”


She had these abilities for a reason; she couldn't just pretend they didn't exist any longer. If she was going to be here, with these people, then she'd use her gifts on her own terms. Maybe she could do something good with them after all.


She blinked as Octavian said he'd like to talk with her about what had happened. She was especially surprised when he invited her to his room. She took a moment to stare at him before a small smile crossed her own face.


“Sure...” She answered, not quite certain how to feel just yet. She was pleased, though, that he had invited her. Depending on how the rest of the fighting went, they could have quite a lot to talk about later.


She walked closer, trying to keep her eyes off the floor. She was worried about what else she'd see if she went with Octavian, but she was going to do her best to remain strong. If they remained together, perhaps they could keep each other in check.


“Lead the way.”

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian started walking back down the corridor towards the turbolifts, eyes glancing left and right, scanning for possible threats. His shrouded feet thudded on the hard floor as he moved, the power armor whirring mechanically. He would periodically turn to the side as they walked and spit a bloody stream from his mouth, more evidence of a punctured lung.


The sounds of distant gunfire could now be heard, frantic shouting and small concussions accompanying them. Octavian flexed his fingers on the battle rifle as he readied it, mouth drawn into a thin line.


The corridor opened up into the wide atrium, signs of battle evident everywhere. Renewed shouts and a burst of rapid gunfire opened up from a side corridor branching off to the left, and Octavian quickly spun to face it, rifle at the ready. A pair of Roman legionaries shuffled out of the corridor entrance, each one holding up a slumped figure with one arm as the awkwardly carried their rifles in the other. Octavian let out a held breath and hurried over, reaching them just as they sat their injured comrade against the wall. One of them looked up at Octavian, glancing over at Nike before standing up and saluting. The other busied himself with his companions wounds, pulling out a field dress-kit.


"Is that the last of them," Octavian spoke, gesturing with his rifle at the nearby corridor, and more importantly, the sounds of battle coming from it. "Yes sir, all other squads on this floor have cleared their sectors, this is the last of the holdouts."


"What's the situation like below?"


"Couldn't tell ya, communications have been screwy, even within units. All I know is that there was a failed attack against the Aquilas point-defense systems, and that they were able to shoot down the few rebel fighters that tried to make a run on us." 


Octavian nodded in thanks, and seeing that things were under control here, jogged over to the turbolifts, the doors of one opening just as they got there, and a team of medics exiting and hurrying about their job. Octavian stepped in the now vacant lift, punching in the code for the armory, then waiting as the lift carried them to their destination. He scrubbed at the dried blood on his forehead with the back of one hand as he waited, glancing over at Nike.


"Are you sure you want to come with me? I can see how this stuff doesn't sit well with you, and it's not going to be pretty finishing this thing." 


He spat to the side again and repositioned the rifle in his hands, grinding his teeth in anger. "Traitors fight like deamons, as they know only death and slavery await them if they are defeated."


A cold tone entered his voice. "To make so many turn on their fellow citizens and comrades in such a despicable manner......Well, it takes a powerful force to do such a thing, and powerful forces are growing scarce in the galaxy." 

 

[volchan]

Nike followed along closely, keeping a sharp eye out for danger. Unlike Octavian, she had no armor or protection. If she was hit it would pretty much be over instantly. She glanced up each time Octavian spit more blood, feeling even more concerned each time. Was he really okay to fight? He'd lost his helmet, was injured, and his armor was also somewhat damaged. He was the one who'd probably get the most attention in battle, with so much damage how could he last through to the end?


As they moved closer to the atrium the sounds of explosions and gunfire began to sound out again, causing Nike's heart to start beating faster. She already felt anxious at the thought of seeing more death after what she'd already witnessed. How bloody would this next fight be? How many enemies would they have to face? She was honestly concerned that she'd freeze up in the face of it all. She'd never been anywhere near a war zone before, and it had been years since she'd intentionally used her powers against other people. She was already set on making sure she didn't kill anyone. She would throw them, push them, or break arms or legs...but if she started killing, she knew it may not end after the last of their enemies had fallen.


Reaching the atrium, they were met with more death and destruction. Nike did her best not to look directly at it. She had quite enough nightmare fuel as it was. Sudden gunfire and shouts from the left caused her to jump, and she quickly turned to face it with Octavian. She felt overwhelming relief at the sight of allies rather than enemies, and tried her best to settle her shaking limbs. She was doing her best not to make it apparent how scared she was; she hoped she could bottle her fear up in the face of the enemy.


She ran after Octavian as he hurried to meet the other soldiers, staying back a little as they set down their injured and saluted Octavian. She knew she must look strange next to him; weaponless and unarmored. She stood and watched as Octavian exchanged words with one of the men, her eyes shifting from them to the injured and back. From what she was hearing, it seemed they were approaching the final battle. She could already hear it in the distance, and quietly dug her nails into her palms as she waited for Octavian's next move.


In another minute the two were standing inside the turbolift. Nike waited next to Octavian, fidgeting a little as she anxiously waited for the lift to stop and the doors to open. She was so focused on the doors she almost missed it when Octavian spoke to her. She was quiet for a moment when he asked if she was certain she wanted to come along.


“...You're right, it doesn't.” She replied.


“But I still intend to accompany you. I don't like any of it, but if I can help keep more people from dying then it's alright if I'm afraid.”


Nike looked up at Octavian when he mentioned a 'powerful force'.


“Force? What do you mean?” She asked.

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


"Only that the instigator of this little revolt can be narrowed down to just a few entities. All of them unpleasant." Octavians lips pursed into a tight line. "I hope this is ended soon."


The turbolift came to a stop, the wide doors sliding open to reveal their destination, the armory. Octavian stepped off past the yellow and white hazard stripes set into the floor and quickly made his way through the organized chaos, making sure to keep Nike near by his side.


He waved at a nearby suit tech that was busy punching in some figures on a data pad, catching her attention. The young woman's eyes grew wide as she saw Octavian in his experimental and battle-damaged suit and hurriedly motioned him over.


"Centurion, what have you done! We just got those Mk V's in last week!" The tech exclaimed as she fluttered around the bulk that was Octavian, connecting hoses and power couplings and assessing the damage. Octavian smiled as he raised his arms out to the sides. 


"My apologies Catia, but the test drive took a violent turn. The armor performed admirably you'll be happy to know, although-" Octavian shifted his legs as Catia ducked under his raised arm to get better access at a leaking actuator. "-I am unable to activate the exit protocol, it seems that the back plates have been damaged and are unable to move."


Catia snorted, brushing a strand of loose hair from her eye. "All right, stand there." She motioned for him to stand on a pair of marked locations set into the floor, then stepped back and adjusted a few things on a nearby monitor before activating the machine. Metal plates in the floor slid back, revealing hidden robotic arms that rose up, unfolding as they went about their business. The arms swarmed around Octavian, grasping various damaged armor plates while others whirred as they removed the connector links. Soon Octavian stood with the majority of the armored plates removed, the naked exoskeleton attached to Octavians body laying exposed.


Catia moved up to the back of Octavian and started adjusting and hammering on a few sections of the exoskeleton for awhile, muttering under her breath, before stepping back and gesturing at Octavian. "All right, try it now."


Octavian nodded, mentally activating the suits exit operation via his HUD. Moters whirred and metal scraped as the back clamshell of Octavians suit opened up, the hardpoint attachments disconnecting from the ports in Octavians skin as he dropped out onto the floor.


Octavian rolled a shoulder and grimaced as he stood there, clad in his black body glove. "Get a Mark IV prepped and ready to go, in assault configuration this time." He turned to Nike, still massaging his shoulder. "You want anything? There are a number of lighter recon frames that you might fit available." 

 

[volchan]

Nike got a slightly bewildered look at Octavian's response.


“An entity...?” She asked. Was he saying that something outside of the Imperium had plotted this? She assumed he wouldn't give her a direct answer, but his response had her wondering what, or who, he was talking about.


The doors opened and they stepped out into the armory. Nike's eyes were wide as she closely followed Octavian through the isles of weapons, armor, and other items. Some things looked a bit familiar to her, while most things she wouldn't even know what to call.


She stood back and watched as Octavian and the technician talked and worked to get him out of his damaged suit. It was still strange to her that Octavian could connect to the machinery, and she stared as the exoskeleton was exposed.


After a few more minutes of tinkering, Octavian was able to get out of the massive suit of armor. He asked for a new suit before turning to her, asking if she wanted anything. Nike got a thoughtful look as she pondered if there was something she'd need.


“Hmm....well, actually it might be nice to have something that could add a little protection...I've never been in the middle of something like this, so I guess it's better to be safe than sorry. If there is anything like that, that wouldn't hinder my speed or agility, I'd be grateful.” She replied, watching Octavian as he rolled and massaged his shoulder.


“How are you feeling? Are you sure you're okay to keep going?”

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian nodded in acknowledgment and called over a nearby tech, telling him what they needed and then turning back to Nike. He waived a dismissive hand at her when she voiced her concerns, ruining his nonchalant air by spitting a stream of blood to the side directly after. 


"I've had worse. Besides, there's no time to visit the med bay." As if to punctuate his words, a shudder ran through the ship, sending the deck shaking for a moment before it calmed. Octavian frowned, letting worry show on his face for a moment before resuming a stony outlook. 


Both Octavians battle armor and Nikes recon suit arrived at the same time, the heavier Mark IV being suspended on chains attached to cranes set into the ceiling. The Mark IV was set down into the prepping area, techs and engineers quickly hooking it up to power conduits and checking the systems. Nikes smaller suit was wheeled over on its storage rack, the tech that had brought it handing it over to Octavian before hurrying off to do some other task. Octavian undid some of the securing clasps, letting the suit drop till the feet touched the hard floor of the armory. He undid the straps and buckles on the front, letting the front of the suit open for entry as it hung suspended. Another explosion rocked the armory, sending unsecured objects tumbling and causing Octavian to brace his feet against the deck for balance. He looked over at Nike. "Either strip to your undergarments, or grab a bodyglove from the cabinet over there, your clothes will be too bulky to fit." He pointed at a nearby storage cabinet next to them before turning back to the recon suit.

 

[volchan]

Nike wasn't bought by Octavian's response, especially as he coughed up more blood. She didn't press the issue though, seeing as how, unlike her, he'd been through these kinds of things before. The next moment the ship gave another shudder, causing her to instinctively tense up. She knew she was on edge already, and it was probably only going to get worse once they were in the fray. She tried not to panic from the thought of seeing more carnage, but it was hard not to when she noticed the brief look of worry on Octavian's face.


'Don't think about it.' She thought, trying to steady herself. She wasn't sure what they were in for, but she didn't have it in her to back down.


Their armor arrived, and as the engineers began preparing Octavian's for battle he started unlatching the clasps on her own. She watched curiously, wondering what kind of protection the suit had. It certainly looked tight fitting...she really hoped she'd fit. She was still observing when suddenly another explosion went off, causing things around them to fall. She stumbled, almost falling over herself, before Octavian instructed her to either strip or put on some kind of tight-fitting suit.


“O-Okay.” She replied, looking over at the cabinet. She wasn't really sure how to put the body glove on, and they didn't have much time, so she just started taking her clothes off. She felt fairly awkward stripping down in front of strangers, but tried to remind herself this was an emergency situation.


Once she was down to her undergarments she hesitantly approached Octavian.


“Um...done. How do I get in this thing?” She asked, trying to ignore the fact that her body, and her scars, were currently exposed.

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian slid the mag slide down the front of the suit, opening it up. He glanced up as Nike stepped over, running his eyes over her before motioning for her to step into the suit. "Slide your feet into the legs, yep, just like that" He helped Nike secure her legs in the suit, then guided her arms into the sleeves, cinching the armored shoulder pads tight. Octavian made sure everything was tight before zipping up the mag slide and redoing the chest straps. He looked her over and gave a small smile, putting a gloved hand on her shoulder. "It looks good on you."


Octavian stood for a moment, then turned and jogged over to his waiting combat armor, grabbing hold as the back of the suit slid open, allowing him access. He nimbly climbed in, the armored plates of the back quickly sliding shut behind him. A few moments passed, then the battle suit straightened, coming to life as Octavian took command. Engineers started to disconnect the power conduits and ammunition feeders. The towering battle suit turned to face Nike, the voice of Octavian issuing from it.


"You ready?"  

 

[volchan]

Nike noticed when Octavian's eyes scanned over her, and did her best not to become more awkward than she already was. She followed his directions, stepping into the suit and trying to adjust herself inside it. It was pretty tight, but she supposed it was supposed to be. She could feel her face go a bit red as Octavian helped tighten and close everything. It wasn't like she had the faintest clue on how to properly wear the thing, but even so...it made her a bit flustered.


Finished, Octavian looked her over and smiled before placing a hand on her shoulder and telling her it looked nice on her. Whatever redness she'd managed to suppress before came zooming back with a vengeance, and she had to avert her eyes a little out of embarrassment.


“Oh...uh...thank you.” She managed to say, not really certain how to respond. She felt like she was back in high school for a moment, and wanted to slap herself for being so immature and bashful.


Octavian hurried over to his own armor and situated himself before turning and asking her if she was ready. Taking a few steps and shifting around for a moment to get a proper feel of the strange new outfit, she nodded.


“Yes, I'm ready.” She said. It would take a moment to adjust to the feel of the thing, but at least she had a bit more protection now. She wasn't quite sure how it would hold up against gunfire, but hopefully she wouldn't have to find out.

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian nodded, a cold grin forming on his face under his suits helmet. He started off at a jog, making sure Nike was close and could keep up. They exited the armory and boarded a waiting shuttle transport along with a cohort of legionaries from the 5th. As Octavian took his place on one of the specially-designed seats for soldiers wearing combat armor,a familiar voice popped into his head. 


"Centurion Octavian, I have orders from high command." Cogs tone was one of weariness and stoic professionalism, with none of his usual rebellious and smug attitude. That worried Octavian. "You are to take command of the cohort you are traveling with and retake the starboard auxiliary hanger."


"I thought that the attacks on the hanger bays had failed," Octavian mentally replied, frowning.


"Yes yes, they did. But there was another push by the rebels not long after, and they had support this time. Our forces were destroyed."   


"Support?"


"Our fears have been realized it seems. Don't spread the news, I'm sure the troops will know soon enough, those that don't already anyway, but it seems as if this insurrection has been organized and carried out by the Invocatus."


Octavians skin went cold and the breath caught in his throat. He stared straight ahead through his helmet visor while his thoughts whirred. 


"We'll have to abandon the planet, pull back and call for reinforcements." He thought the words almost automatically as his mind processed the new revelation, going over the best defensive plans and mentally running through various combat scenarios.


What about Nike? She wouldn't want to leave her family, let alone leave her planet. His inner voice spoke, casting doubts on his thoughts. 


You could take her with you.


She wouldn't want to.


You could force her....


She'd hate me for it.


She would have no choice, her planet's doomed as it is.


We can save it.


Impossible.


"Cog, how much time do we have?"


"The Enemy already has a sizable number of operatives present, but we estimate that the vanguard of the enemy fleet will arrive in four to five local days, the main force a day after." 


Octavian rubbed the knuckles of one armored fist with the palm of the other, debating on what to do. He glanced over at where Nike sat next to him, then resumed staring ahead. 


"Thanks for the update Cog, send Titianus my regards."


The shuttle slowed to a stop at the embarkation point, the legionaries and Octavian standing up and preparing to offload. As they stepped off the transport a stern looking officer came up to Octavian, saluting.


"Centurion Octavian, I have been ordered to place myself under your command, along with my men." Octavian returned the salute, nodding at the man.


"As you were centurion-"


"Pulla sir, centurion Pulla."


"Very well then centurion Pulla, have your men form up and prepare for combat. We will be retaking the eastern auxiliary hanger immediatly." The man nodded and jogged off, already beginning to shout at his men to form up. Octavian turned to face Nike, reaching up and removing his helmet, tucking it under one arm. "How you holding up?" The concern was evident in his voice as he lowered one knee, crouching down until his eyes were level with Nikes.

 

[volchan]

Nike followed along, her pace quickening as she grew used to the feel of the recon suit. Within minutes they'd boarded a shuttle along with several other soldiers and found a place to sit. It was fairly quiet as the shuttle moved along, only a few muffled conversations that barely did anything to drown out the concerns racing through her brain. She tried to focus on anything, anything that would keep her mind on something other than the inevitable bloodbath she was about to take part in. She'd been fighting to keep the earlier images of Octavian's rampage out of her head, but as she sat there they began popping up again. Was she foolish for coming along, even though she didn't know for certain how she'd handle such a scenario? What if she was putting everyone in danger? There was still the chance that her other self could show up; what if it attacked Octavian and the others? What if she ended up killing someone?


She took in a big breath and looked down, noticing that she'd been digging her nails into her palms again. She forced herself to relax.


'I'm not ready for this, am I?' She thought. Would she ever be? She felt so on edge. She had no idea what the place would look like, or how many enemies or dead bodies there would be. Just the thought of seeing blood again was making her anxious.


The shuttle came to a stop and they began to unload. Nike could feel her heart drumming faster now. How many more minutes before they'd be fighting? She stood near to Octavian as he spoke to Pulla. At least it seemed there would be more fighters; maybe it wouldn't last too long. If she was lucky, the fighting would be over by the time they got there.


Octavian turned to her and, removing his helmet, got down on one knee to ask her how she was doing. She could see and hear his concern, but wasn't certain why he was suddenly asking. Perhaps he'd noticed her anxiety on the shuttle.


“Well...I can't say I'm not afraid.” She replied, trying not to fidget anymore.


“I...I really don't want to kill anyone, but I'll do my best to keep them from fighting anymore. I'll break their bones or dislocate their joints if I have to.” She assured. She wasn't certain what Octavian wanted to hear. She'd come here to help him, but she was a little worried she might end up being more of a burden than a help. She didn't want to stand back while other people fought, especially when she had the ability to do something; she just felt very uncertain of her own limitations at the moment.

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian studied Nike for a few moments, then nodded, standing up. "Stick close, and if you see something out of your nightmares," He slid the helmet back over his head with a click. "Well, just know that they can die like everyone else." 


He grabbed his battle rifle from his back, the magnetic locks releasing as he held it in one hand. "Cohort, attention!" Octavian walked over to stand directly in front of the massed squad of soldiers, his back to the wide bay doors that would lead out onto the hangar deck. Sounds of battle could already be heard coming from behind the closed doors, causing some legionaries to shift about nervously. 


"Soldiers of the Imperium." The men grew still as Octavian spoke, his voice carrying throughout the room. "We are about to face an enemy that embodies everything that we abhor, an enemy with no honor, and one that deserves no mercy. Our task is to retake this hangar, a simple one, so I'm sure that even Decius over there-" Octavian motioned at one of the waiting soldiers "-can make sense of it." A scattering of laughs broke out among the legionaries, but was quickly silenced by the officers.  


"So ready your weapons, pray to the gods, and prepare to kill every single traitorous son of a bitch behind those doors!" He ended in a roar, raising his fist in the air and turning to face the wide doors of the hangar bay.


"SIC DOMINE!"


The shouted acknowledgment echoed through the chamber as the men readied themselves. The hangar bay doors began to slide open, and Octavian started walking forward, followed by the marching formation of legionaries. As they got closer to the doors, squads of soldiers began to break off of the main group, scattering to the side and taking up skirmishing positions, weapons at the ready. The sounds of fighting could now be clearly heard, weapons fire and the screams and shouts of combatants creating a hellish background for the advancing legionaries. A squad of five other soldiers from the 5th took their positions at the front of the formation, joining Octavian as they advanced. Each one was also outfitted in the nine foot tall suits of combat armor, the sound of their synchronized steps creating a menacing air. Enemy troops began to take notice of Octavians men and started to focus their fire on the new threat. Octavians five companions in the vanguard all raised their weapons and started firing. Each was equipped with a small caliber cannon, which fired projectiles two inches in diameter. The effect was devastating.   


Scores of enemy troops were cut down as they rushed to defensive positions, a piece of shrapnel taking the head off of a rebel commander as he extolled his troops. Octavian advanced with the vanguard, issuing orders to his sub-commanders as he did so. The cohort began to fan out, squads rushing to defensive positions behind parked aircraft or crates of supplies and ammo. Brutal melees flared up when apposing sides fought over the same defensive position, the combat resorting to armored fists and short-swords as Octavians forces steadily advanced.


Even Octavian himself was forced to forgo his battle rifle and switch to his flaming short-sword to cut his way through a particularly vicious pocket of resistance. Fortunately, it seemed that the rebels possessed no heavy infantry in the vein of Octavian and his vanguard, nor any form of direct-fire or anti-armor support. Which made it all the more odd how they managed to take the hangar in the first place. 


Octavian dispatched the last of the rebel soldiers with a thrust to the throat, letting the man slide backward off the blade of his sword as he caught a breath. They had just finished taking a particularly well-defended section of the hangar, which was located close to the hangar entrance in the side of the ship. The wide opening could be seen to their left, rising almost 80 feet high, the containment shield glowing a light red as it stretched over the opening. Octavian could almost see the terrain of the continent far below, a winding river looking almost toy like from this distance.


Octavian sheathed his sword and pulled off his helmet, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he took a drink from his canteen. He spit out the first mouthful, the water a dark red, then drank deeply.   

 

[volchan]

'Nightmares?' Nike thought, feeling a bit confused. What did Octavian mean? Was there something else on the other side of those doors? She really wasn't sure what to expect now, which made her anxiety all the stronger.


She stood by and watched as Octavian addressed the other soldiers. She could already hear the sounds of fighting coming from the hangar, but did her best to focus on what Octavian was saying. His words seemed to stir up the others, and by the end of it he had them roaring and ready to charge in and fight. Nike felt a little out of place amidst all the obviously seasoned warriors, and as the massive bay doors began to slide open and the sounds of battle became more clear, she did her best to ready herself for the horrors beyond.


Octavian and the others began to move in an organized formation through the doors and into the hangar bay. Nike tried to remain close to Octavian, but hung back a little to keep out of the others' ways. She could already see blood streaked across the floor from earlier fighting, and the sight of it was getting to her again.


'Focus.' She reminded herself, forcing her eyes off the floor and instead locking them to what lay ahead of her. She knew she would have to keep her mind concentrated if she wanted to help fight.


The enemy took notice of their group, and soon gunfire was being sprayed at them. Nike flinched and ducked down to cover herself. She was more protected now than before, but she wasn't certain how much her light armor could take. If she was hit even once, it was possible she could die. She ended up moving off to the side a bit, breaking away slightly from the group. She wasn't certain she could keep up with Octavian and the others, and if she wanted to help she'd need a proper idea of her surroundings.


The men up front with Octavian began to return fire, and Nike watched with wide eyes as the blasts sent the enemy troops flying and scattering to get to safety. One man's head literally exploded, and Nike quickly shut her eyes to try and block out the sight. Ducking down behind a crate, she took a brief moment to collect herself. She was starting to shake again, but clenched her fists as she fought to regain control over her emotions. She didn't come here to hide. If she wanted all this horror to be worth it, she had to do something to make it end.


Octavian and his men began to fan out throughout the space, advancing on the enemy troops. As they began to fight in close combat, Nike shuffled around from the side and tried to situate herself in a better position. She was small and not very intimidating in appearance, and she hoped that it would benefit her. She got as close as she felt she could without making herself known and crouched behind a parked aircraft. She could see Octavian cutting his way through the enemy again and his men fighting their own battles with other soldiers. Not too far away, she noticed another small group of enemy combatants with guns, seemingly preparing to fire on Octavian and his men as they were caught up in the fighting. Taking a steadying breath, she focused her mind and twisted the weapons until they were unusable. The soldiers seemed shocked, looking around for the source of their misfortune. Just as one spotted her, she threw the group back with a powerful burst of mental energy. She felt her hands shaking. She had always told herself not to use her abilities against people, and the thought of what she would have to do next frightened her. As the men, stunned from being tossed, tried to pick themselves back up, she focused all her might into snapping their limbs. She could only really focus on one enemy at a time. Some of them had stronger bones like Octavian, and breaking them was more difficult for her. With a little extra push, she watched as their limbs twitched and snapped. She could hear them scream, and tried to hum under her breath to block it out. She could see the panic on their faces as some tried to crawl or run away, but in another minute none of them would be able to move.


As soon as that group was taken care of, Nike looked away. She couldn't face what she'd just done, even if what she had done had, in its own way, been merciful. Focusing now on the men Octavian's troops were fighting, one by one she began to help by either throwing them down, breaking their weapon, or breaking a limb. She didn't try to move closer, she could control things from a vast distance and didn't want to risk getting in anyone's way. As the fighting continued, Nike could feel sweat beginning to slip down from her forehead and her body becoming more worn. She wasn't used to using her power like this, or for this long. She was only able to help for around fifteen minutes before she was too exhausted to keep going.


She kept herself tucked behind the ship, peeking out to watch when she could. Octavian and his men seemed to have things under control, and after another half hour or so of fighting things began to quiet down as the last of the enemy was killed or incapacitated. Taking another careful peek, Nike then pulled herself up and slowly started to make her way towards where Octavian was. She kept her eyes off the floor again. She was already disturbed by what had happened earlier, and didn't want to add to whatever nightmares she was going to be experiencing. Her limbs felt weak and her mind was a bit numb; she'd probably pushed herself more than she should have.


She reached Octavian just as he was drinking, letting herself just plop down on the ground. She noticed the blood in the water he'd spat out, but said nothing. She'd asked him several times now if he was alright, and he'd insisted he was, so she wouldn't press the issue.


“...Are there more?” She asked, looking up at him. She looked tired, but didn't say anything. She assumed they were all worn after the fighting they'd just done.

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand, replacing his canteen. He sighed, sitting down on a nearby crate next to Nike. "Unfortunately yes, we've managed to drive them back to the far side of the hanger, but initial reports state that they have more troops massing in the corridors on the far side." Octavian tapped the metal fingers of his glove on the battle rifle slung over his knees, making a metallic rhythm, then looked over at Nike.


"So, how you holding up? I'm sorry that I haven't been able to be with you through all this, but I've been busy with-" his eyes glanced over at the recently-deceased rebel soldier with the sword wound through his throat. "-other things."

 

[volchan]

“Oh...” She responded when he said that there were more enemies waiting on the other side of the massive hangar and in the far side corridors. How many of them were left? How much more fighting would there be? Would there be fighting down on the surface too? Her gaze was a little distant at the moment as she thought about more fighting. Did she even have the energy to keep going? She'd never been pushed like this before.


Octavian asked her how she was doing and she glanced at him a moment before turning her attention towards the huge hangar doors and the landscape far beyond. Everything looked so small.


“It's okay.” She replied, taking in the colors and shapes of the environment lying beyond and beneath the ship.


“I'm tired, I haven't really done this before...not like this.” She added.


“I stayed back and did what I could. It was too chaotic keeping close to everyone.”


She slid her fingers back and forth a little over the cold metal surface of the floor, letting her nails scrape a little against it.


“I put a stop to a few of them. Actually, now that I think about it, there's a group of them alive over to the side near those crates.” She said motioning towards where the group of shooters had been waiting to attack.


“I made sure they couldn't move.”


She smothered the thoughts and emotions that wanted to rise up from what she'd done, focusing instead on the planet sitting quietly outside the hangar doors. She kept her eyes there, if for no other reason than to give herself something else to think on.

 

[Icerex]

Octavian~


Octavian nodded, eyes staring into the distance. "I'll make sure that they're picked up. Although, I can't guarantee their well being." He absently started making patterns in the pooled blood on the floor with one foot, drawing a mosaic swirl with the edge of his steel-shod boot.


"You must understand that each and every one of those soldiers betrayed an oath, a sacred trust to both their comrades and to the Imperium. Some of them might have been pressured into it by their traitorous compatriots, but each one knew what they were doing when they made the decision to rebel. I understand what you are trying to do, not everyone is a callous butcher like myself." Octavian made a wry chuckle at that, his green eyes growing blank as if trying to hide a deeper feeling inside. "But I can't help but feel that if I was in their position, I'd rather die then be captured." He reached down and slid his combat helmet onto his head, his voice taking on a slightly robotic tone.


"Maybe the galaxy just needs more people like you, and less like me."


Octavian got to his feet and started making his way to the far side of the hanger, were the majority of his forces were congregating. The cohort was just finishing preparations to begin clearing the narrow corridors and hallways that led to the hanger, the very same ones that were reportedly now packed to the gills with enemy soldiers. Breaching charges had been placed on the various metal doors and hatches leading into the tunnels, and Octavian took his position at the vanguard to one of these. He grabbed a heavy metal and composite riot shield from a stockpile of extra equipment, replacing the battle rifle for a weapon better suited to such close-quarters fighting, a blazing short-sword. His choice of arms would be very familiar to his ancient ancestors if any had been present, the fighting stance and brutal nature of the sword harkening back to a much more primitive time. He kneeled behind his shield as the countdown began, eyes closed behind his helmet as he steadied his breathing, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain with each breath. A shouted command and a low detonation heralded the opening of the tunnel, and Octavian hefted his shield and stepped into the dark interior of the passage, the men of the 5th right behind.