Pacificus
Straight up, having a good time.
(18+ for scenes of significant violence and gore.)
Laser Sector. Sunset. Null attacks the Hand patrol.
It was night. Only 15 minutes after sunset. The street was slick from an afternoon rain shower. The sidewalks were mostly empty. The residents of Laser Sector knew not to be out after dark if they could help it. Night time was where criminals thrive, but that was hardly the biggest threat that stalked the dark streets. At night, roving patrols of "The Hand" took to the streets in their armored cars. Anyone out past curfew would be interrogated at best or harassed and beaten at worst. The Hand were the executors of the Circle’s will. They were fanatics that obeyed their masters every command. The middle of the food chain. Beneath them were the city's inhabitants. The Hand kept the populace in line. Those that failed to fall in with the rest suffered heavily at their hands. They took a sadistic glee in the terrible things they did.
Slime. That was what Null thought of them. He would see them all shot in the head, if only he had the resources. Alas, there did not exist enough bullets in the world for such a task. Null “The Terrorist”, was what the state-run media referred to him as. It would have made him roll his eyes if it wasn’t true, for technically, he was. He blew up guard stations and he killed Hand enforcers in their sleep. It was what he did, and it didn’t bother him. If “terrorist” was what this sick society and its masters had labeled him, then so be it. He was more sane than any of them.
On this particular night, Null had been tracking one of the Hands patrols ever since it hit the streets. It wasn’t hard. The Hand had no discipline in their lower ranks. Just meatheads and violent sociopaths. Even as he trailed behind their convoy in his car, he could see the occupants through their bulletproof windows. Their sleek, yet imposing tactical armor and plasma burst rifles appeared freshly shined. The convoy boasted the usual three vehicles, 6-wheeled armored offroaders, designated “Prowlers”. They were the size of a large SUV and were equipped with a turret with a machine gun mounted on their roofs. Their armor was light, but made from a strong material called “flexsteel” that didn’t actually have any steel in it. It was impervious to kinect weaponry, but was not very effective against directed energy weapons. This was a minor weakness. No one in the city had easy access to guns in the first place, much less the likes of an advanced laser or plasma rifle.
This would not be a problem for Null. He followed the convoy, two car-lengths back. His helmet's HUD fed him data that had been picked up by his car's AI, the ever helpful PAK-77.
“It looks like a full house. Five Hands per car. All decked out. Looks like they’re expecting a party.” The upbeat AI said.
Despite being a program with no concept of fleshy emotions or feeling, Pak had adopted the persona of a mid-30's salesman, much to Null’s annoyance. Though, the two had grown close ever since Null had accidentally stolen him from a laboratory in the city center.
“It’s necessary.” Null said.
“Well, turns coming up in 5-zero-zero feet. I’ve hacked into the streets security cameras and done a sweep of the “spot”. No one’s around. We’re clear to set up.”
Null acknowledged with a nod. He followed the convoy as it turned onto a one-way street with 2 lanes and cars parked on either side. They continued a short distance before the convoy stopped in front of a brightly lit gym. Null hadn’t picked up this patrol at random. He had been studying them for several nights. He knew they were going to stop here. For some reason, these grunts loved to hit up this gym for a late session of pumping iron. As the convoy stopped, Null proceeded past them and pulled off into a narrow alley. The alley continued in a horseshoe around an apartment building and let out across the street from the gym and only one building over. Null and Pak had a perfect view of the convoy parked in front of the fitness center. Null watched with one hand on the wheel as grunts spilled out of the armored cars and headed inside. They were a mixed bunch of male and female Hands. Some had forgone the wearing of their helmets. Only a few still had them on. The officers wore a combination cap instead of a helmet. However, they all had one thing in common. They were ripped. Absolutely jacked. They all dwarfed Null in size. Every one of them.
They were also slack. They talked like a gang of rambunctious friends going to a party. Despite their imposing armor and big guns, there wasn’t an ounce of martial discipline among them.
Once inside, many took off their armor. Some, mostly the officers, kept it on. Between them, Null and Pak counted 13 in the gym. One poor sap had been left outside to watch the cars. He stood by the first vehicle with his rifle slung over his shoulder, looking out towards the street. He looked to be the most vigilant one among them. Next to him was a female officer, who stood similarly. She appeared to have cybernetic enhancements, however. Her face had several small metal plates on it, and her eyes glowed a sinister red. Null recognized it as a heat-vision mod. Not uncommon for Hand officers.
Null cracked his neck. “Cut the engine, but keep your batteries on. We’re gonna run The Hammer on these guys. I’ll signal when I need you.” Null said.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Pak questioned.
“There’s only 15 of them, and half of them aren’t even wearing armor. I got it.” Null replied.
“Aye.” The AI acknowledged.
Null checked his gear.
Two frag grenades: Check. Plasma pistol: Check. Tri-barrel shotgun: Check. Mono-molecular knife: Check.
He checked his armor and put on his helmet. The black, full-body tactical armor was just as imposing as the Hand’s. Except, his was more effective. The armor worn by Hand grunts was cheap and mass-produced. Certainly, the Circle didn’t give nice things to what equated to hardened gangsters. Null’s armor, however, was not produced within the walls of this shit-ridden city. It had been created before the Culling, before humanity had been psychologically sent back to the stone age. Null didn’t know how the armor worked. Only that it did, and it was “bonded” to him. The plates were smooth, but curved to fit the human body. The suit was very ergonomic, but heavy. It was not equipped with load-bearing servos like any other modern armor. Which meant Null bore its full weight. He had no problem with it.
Null opened the door and climbed out of the car. His shotgun was secured to his back via the armor's magnetic clamps. His plasma pistol hung from his right hip in a quickdraw holster. Null stuck to the areas not covered by streetlights and crossed the street at a brisk walk and crouched behind a parked car. There were two more parked cars between him and the first vehicle in the Hand’s convoy. To the right of the parked armored cars, was the gym, who’s bright fluorescent lights flooded out onto the sidewalk.
The two Hands standing guard outside hadn’t moved. They were facing out toward the street. The officer was occupied reading something from a handheld tablet. The grunt was standing still by the door. Null unholstered his pistol and held it behind him in his right hand. Finger on the trigger. He stood and approached.
He had taken five steps before the Officer looked over at him. Naturally, she immediately went tactical whe she saw a fully-armored and armed man walking towards her. She didn’t even have time to drop her tablet, or even make a sound to warn the grunt standing next to her before Null terminated them both. With one hand, he drew his pistol and shot both of them in the head from a few feet away. The first super-heated plasma projectile blew the officers head off. The second impacted the grunt and bore a hole through his helmet. He hadn’t even seen it coming. The heavy bass plasma shots rang out down the street and both bodies slumped to the pavement, dead before they had even hit the ground. As he did this, Null produced a fragger from his belt and pulled the pin in one motion.
He stood over the two bodies and looked into the open gym, where the Hands inside had yet to make a move. Some were still processing what was going on, others hadn’t even noticed. Null threw the fragger through the glass door, shattering it. The grenade landed in the middle of the relatively small and open gym space. Several Hands dove to the deck before the grenade exploded. Those that didn’t dive, were shredded by chunks of shrapnel. All the windows on the gym were blown out, showering Null in shattered glass. The glass nor the shockwave phased him. As a result of the explosion, the room was filled with white smoke. Null holstered his pistol and entered through the doorway with shotgun drawn. The heavy tri-gun didn’t have to wait long to dispense its lethal payload of hate and discontent. Once through the door, Null spotted two grunts recovering. One in armor and one not. It didn’t make a difference. The .12 gauge, tungsten buckshot shredded them both. The weapon automatically ejected the 3 spent shells, which clattered to the deck. Null turned and found another target. An officer, who had regained his bearings and moved to charge Null. The officer wasn’t wearing armor, so Null didn’t bother wasting the shot. The officer swung with a right hook. Null dodged left and hit him with the butt of the shotgun. The Officer stumbled backwards into a squat rack. Beyond which, stood two grunts in armor. Null acquired all three in his helmets targeting HUD. He expended one shell each. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The report of the shotgun was deafening.
Null was then hit from behind. A grunt wielding a weight bar hit him on the back of head. Null's armor took the punishment and Null used the force of the hit to roll himself forward and onto the ground. He lay on his back and pointed the shotgun up at his assailant. The grunt wore armor, but no helmet. Null blew his head off. The headless corpse slumped to the ground.
Null recovered off the ground. The smoke had mostly dissipated. A bolt of plasma streaked by him, followed by more. Null ducked beind a weight rack and shrank his shoulders as much as he could. The remaining Hands had regrouped and were firing wildly into the gym from just outside. Superheated plasma ate away at the metal weights that provided Null with a small and decreasing amount of cover. The metal slowly superheating and melting into molten slag.
Null opened a commlink with Pak. “Bring it around. They’re all outside.”
Pak didn’t respond verbally. Instead he revved the engine and peeled out onto the street. The sleek muscle car rolled up to the gym and stopped. Twin lascannons rose up from underneath the hood, on either side of the scoop. Pak opened fire into the group of hands, who were in various stages of dress. With every high-pitch report of the laser cannons, a Hand was killed where they stood. Most were cut in half at the waist. Superheated sparks filled the air. In seconds, there were no more targets left for Pak to silence.
From inside, Null heard as the weapons fire intensified, then suddenly fell silent. When it did, he came out from behind his cover. He didn’t bother to raise his weapon. He trusted that Pak had effectively greased every single one of his targets. Null stepped through broken glass to find the pavement outside covered in dead grunts. The ones in armor were still in one piece, albeit melted inside of it. Their plain-clothes comrades fared worse. They had been reduced to red goo right there on the sidewalk. It was an extremely gruesome sight. Null paid it no mind and walked over to one of their armored cars. He shot open the door and reached inside. He could hear radio chatter that was no doubt talking about what had just occurred. Nearby patrols and surveillance had no doubt heard the gunfire and explosion. Reinforcements would be here soon.
Null found where the Hands kept their demolition explosives and attached one charge to each of the Prowlers. Pak pulled up to him and Null climbed inside with a detonator in hand.
“You’re getting reckless.” Pak criticized
Null didn’t refute the statement “Let’s go.” He said.
As they pulled away, Null looked in the rearview and hit the detonator once they were a safe distance. The explosives detonated and the Prowlers were thrown into the air like toys. Their wreckage came down in the middle of the street. Null marveled at the magnificent flames.
Pak activated the car's cloaking system, disguising them as an unremarkable, beat up sedan. Alarm systems rang out behind them. The two drove silently into the darkness. This attack would not be the last of the night's violence.
Laser Sector. Sunset. Null attacks the Hand patrol.
It was night. Only 15 minutes after sunset. The street was slick from an afternoon rain shower. The sidewalks were mostly empty. The residents of Laser Sector knew not to be out after dark if they could help it. Night time was where criminals thrive, but that was hardly the biggest threat that stalked the dark streets. At night, roving patrols of "The Hand" took to the streets in their armored cars. Anyone out past curfew would be interrogated at best or harassed and beaten at worst. The Hand were the executors of the Circle’s will. They were fanatics that obeyed their masters every command. The middle of the food chain. Beneath them were the city's inhabitants. The Hand kept the populace in line. Those that failed to fall in with the rest suffered heavily at their hands. They took a sadistic glee in the terrible things they did.
Slime. That was what Null thought of them. He would see them all shot in the head, if only he had the resources. Alas, there did not exist enough bullets in the world for such a task. Null “The Terrorist”, was what the state-run media referred to him as. It would have made him roll his eyes if it wasn’t true, for technically, he was. He blew up guard stations and he killed Hand enforcers in their sleep. It was what he did, and it didn’t bother him. If “terrorist” was what this sick society and its masters had labeled him, then so be it. He was more sane than any of them.
On this particular night, Null had been tracking one of the Hands patrols ever since it hit the streets. It wasn’t hard. The Hand had no discipline in their lower ranks. Just meatheads and violent sociopaths. Even as he trailed behind their convoy in his car, he could see the occupants through their bulletproof windows. Their sleek, yet imposing tactical armor and plasma burst rifles appeared freshly shined. The convoy boasted the usual three vehicles, 6-wheeled armored offroaders, designated “Prowlers”. They were the size of a large SUV and were equipped with a turret with a machine gun mounted on their roofs. Their armor was light, but made from a strong material called “flexsteel” that didn’t actually have any steel in it. It was impervious to kinect weaponry, but was not very effective against directed energy weapons. This was a minor weakness. No one in the city had easy access to guns in the first place, much less the likes of an advanced laser or plasma rifle.
This would not be a problem for Null. He followed the convoy, two car-lengths back. His helmet's HUD fed him data that had been picked up by his car's AI, the ever helpful PAK-77.
“It looks like a full house. Five Hands per car. All decked out. Looks like they’re expecting a party.” The upbeat AI said.
Despite being a program with no concept of fleshy emotions or feeling, Pak had adopted the persona of a mid-30's salesman, much to Null’s annoyance. Though, the two had grown close ever since Null had accidentally stolen him from a laboratory in the city center.
“It’s necessary.” Null said.
“Well, turns coming up in 5-zero-zero feet. I’ve hacked into the streets security cameras and done a sweep of the “spot”. No one’s around. We’re clear to set up.”
Null acknowledged with a nod. He followed the convoy as it turned onto a one-way street with 2 lanes and cars parked on either side. They continued a short distance before the convoy stopped in front of a brightly lit gym. Null hadn’t picked up this patrol at random. He had been studying them for several nights. He knew they were going to stop here. For some reason, these grunts loved to hit up this gym for a late session of pumping iron. As the convoy stopped, Null proceeded past them and pulled off into a narrow alley. The alley continued in a horseshoe around an apartment building and let out across the street from the gym and only one building over. Null and Pak had a perfect view of the convoy parked in front of the fitness center. Null watched with one hand on the wheel as grunts spilled out of the armored cars and headed inside. They were a mixed bunch of male and female Hands. Some had forgone the wearing of their helmets. Only a few still had them on. The officers wore a combination cap instead of a helmet. However, they all had one thing in common. They were ripped. Absolutely jacked. They all dwarfed Null in size. Every one of them.
They were also slack. They talked like a gang of rambunctious friends going to a party. Despite their imposing armor and big guns, there wasn’t an ounce of martial discipline among them.
Once inside, many took off their armor. Some, mostly the officers, kept it on. Between them, Null and Pak counted 13 in the gym. One poor sap had been left outside to watch the cars. He stood by the first vehicle with his rifle slung over his shoulder, looking out towards the street. He looked to be the most vigilant one among them. Next to him was a female officer, who stood similarly. She appeared to have cybernetic enhancements, however. Her face had several small metal plates on it, and her eyes glowed a sinister red. Null recognized it as a heat-vision mod. Not uncommon for Hand officers.
Null cracked his neck. “Cut the engine, but keep your batteries on. We’re gonna run The Hammer on these guys. I’ll signal when I need you.” Null said.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Pak questioned.
“There’s only 15 of them, and half of them aren’t even wearing armor. I got it.” Null replied.
“Aye.” The AI acknowledged.
Null checked his gear.
Two frag grenades: Check. Plasma pistol: Check. Tri-barrel shotgun: Check. Mono-molecular knife: Check.
He checked his armor and put on his helmet. The black, full-body tactical armor was just as imposing as the Hand’s. Except, his was more effective. The armor worn by Hand grunts was cheap and mass-produced. Certainly, the Circle didn’t give nice things to what equated to hardened gangsters. Null’s armor, however, was not produced within the walls of this shit-ridden city. It had been created before the Culling, before humanity had been psychologically sent back to the stone age. Null didn’t know how the armor worked. Only that it did, and it was “bonded” to him. The plates were smooth, but curved to fit the human body. The suit was very ergonomic, but heavy. It was not equipped with load-bearing servos like any other modern armor. Which meant Null bore its full weight. He had no problem with it.
Null opened the door and climbed out of the car. His shotgun was secured to his back via the armor's magnetic clamps. His plasma pistol hung from his right hip in a quickdraw holster. Null stuck to the areas not covered by streetlights and crossed the street at a brisk walk and crouched behind a parked car. There were two more parked cars between him and the first vehicle in the Hand’s convoy. To the right of the parked armored cars, was the gym, who’s bright fluorescent lights flooded out onto the sidewalk.
The two Hands standing guard outside hadn’t moved. They were facing out toward the street. The officer was occupied reading something from a handheld tablet. The grunt was standing still by the door. Null unholstered his pistol and held it behind him in his right hand. Finger on the trigger. He stood and approached.
He had taken five steps before the Officer looked over at him. Naturally, she immediately went tactical whe she saw a fully-armored and armed man walking towards her. She didn’t even have time to drop her tablet, or even make a sound to warn the grunt standing next to her before Null terminated them both. With one hand, he drew his pistol and shot both of them in the head from a few feet away. The first super-heated plasma projectile blew the officers head off. The second impacted the grunt and bore a hole through his helmet. He hadn’t even seen it coming. The heavy bass plasma shots rang out down the street and both bodies slumped to the pavement, dead before they had even hit the ground. As he did this, Null produced a fragger from his belt and pulled the pin in one motion.
He stood over the two bodies and looked into the open gym, where the Hands inside had yet to make a move. Some were still processing what was going on, others hadn’t even noticed. Null threw the fragger through the glass door, shattering it. The grenade landed in the middle of the relatively small and open gym space. Several Hands dove to the deck before the grenade exploded. Those that didn’t dive, were shredded by chunks of shrapnel. All the windows on the gym were blown out, showering Null in shattered glass. The glass nor the shockwave phased him. As a result of the explosion, the room was filled with white smoke. Null holstered his pistol and entered through the doorway with shotgun drawn. The heavy tri-gun didn’t have to wait long to dispense its lethal payload of hate and discontent. Once through the door, Null spotted two grunts recovering. One in armor and one not. It didn’t make a difference. The .12 gauge, tungsten buckshot shredded them both. The weapon automatically ejected the 3 spent shells, which clattered to the deck. Null turned and found another target. An officer, who had regained his bearings and moved to charge Null. The officer wasn’t wearing armor, so Null didn’t bother wasting the shot. The officer swung with a right hook. Null dodged left and hit him with the butt of the shotgun. The Officer stumbled backwards into a squat rack. Beyond which, stood two grunts in armor. Null acquired all three in his helmets targeting HUD. He expended one shell each. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The report of the shotgun was deafening.
Null was then hit from behind. A grunt wielding a weight bar hit him on the back of head. Null's armor took the punishment and Null used the force of the hit to roll himself forward and onto the ground. He lay on his back and pointed the shotgun up at his assailant. The grunt wore armor, but no helmet. Null blew his head off. The headless corpse slumped to the ground.
Null recovered off the ground. The smoke had mostly dissipated. A bolt of plasma streaked by him, followed by more. Null ducked beind a weight rack and shrank his shoulders as much as he could. The remaining Hands had regrouped and were firing wildly into the gym from just outside. Superheated plasma ate away at the metal weights that provided Null with a small and decreasing amount of cover. The metal slowly superheating and melting into molten slag.
Null opened a commlink with Pak. “Bring it around. They’re all outside.”
Pak didn’t respond verbally. Instead he revved the engine and peeled out onto the street. The sleek muscle car rolled up to the gym and stopped. Twin lascannons rose up from underneath the hood, on either side of the scoop. Pak opened fire into the group of hands, who were in various stages of dress. With every high-pitch report of the laser cannons, a Hand was killed where they stood. Most were cut in half at the waist. Superheated sparks filled the air. In seconds, there were no more targets left for Pak to silence.
From inside, Null heard as the weapons fire intensified, then suddenly fell silent. When it did, he came out from behind his cover. He didn’t bother to raise his weapon. He trusted that Pak had effectively greased every single one of his targets. Null stepped through broken glass to find the pavement outside covered in dead grunts. The ones in armor were still in one piece, albeit melted inside of it. Their plain-clothes comrades fared worse. They had been reduced to red goo right there on the sidewalk. It was an extremely gruesome sight. Null paid it no mind and walked over to one of their armored cars. He shot open the door and reached inside. He could hear radio chatter that was no doubt talking about what had just occurred. Nearby patrols and surveillance had no doubt heard the gunfire and explosion. Reinforcements would be here soon.
Null found where the Hands kept their demolition explosives and attached one charge to each of the Prowlers. Pak pulled up to him and Null climbed inside with a detonator in hand.
“You’re getting reckless.” Pak criticized
Null didn’t refute the statement “Let’s go.” He said.
As they pulled away, Null looked in the rearview and hit the detonator once they were a safe distance. The explosives detonated and the Prowlers were thrown into the air like toys. Their wreckage came down in the middle of the street. Null marveled at the magnificent flames.
Pak activated the car's cloaking system, disguising them as an unremarkable, beat up sedan. Alarm systems rang out behind them. The two drove silently into the darkness. This attack would not be the last of the night's violence.
