05-15-2014, 01:48 PM
The plan wasn't too complex: Nicholas and four Knights - plus one Reed - would go into the basement and cut off the main power grid. After that, they would move around the maintenance ways eliminating any backup generators. Nicholas assumed that, once the building was bathed in darkness, Custody soldiers with night vision would be able to cut their way out with impunity. Where to, he didn't know, although a couple possibilities were bouncing around his mind.
The most likely was that they were just trying to hold out through the night until reinforcements could arrive. The assaults would die with the light. But something a bit more... daring struck him. What if they were to fly out of there? With sufficient cover, it wouldn't be impossible - but he doubted the thin skin of an air liner could survive a hail of bullets. Somebody would have to stay behind. A lot of somebodies.
Reed was practically tapping her foot in impatience when he finally reached her - even if the conversation with the captain had only been a few minutes. He doubted he could convince her to stay behind, but he figured it was worth a shot. "I'm pretty sure you heard everything. So, are you staying behind?"
"You even have to ask?" Reed looked almost disappointed. "Besides, you'll need me whether you know it or not." She really did seem to forget that she'd just barely survived a rocket blast. And he doubted he could remind her - every woman has a selective memory, but she took the concept to new heights.
Nicholas shook his head. "Worth a try."
While he and Reed were chatting, the Knights who would be accompanying them made their way over. He could tell it was the same sergeant from earlier, although the others were practically interchangeable - faceless masks and near-identical armor tend to do that.
They passed him and Reed a pair of bullet proof vests, and Nicholas was glad for it. He was allergic to bullets, after all. They offered him a rifle, but he refused. The last time he'd been to a range was almost ten years ago now, and he didn't feel like shooting his own foot off. He might have known enough about guns to argue the finer points of the law - but he had no illusions about his own capabilities. Reed was under no such reservations. By the time he finished explaining why he didn't need the rifle, she had one slung on her back, and the vest was loaded with magazines.
The sergeant - Hossayni - pulled off his helmet and gave Nicholas a level look. "Stupidity, huh?"
Apparently Nicholas's explanation from earlier wasn't quite good enough.
Nicholas could only shrug. "Would you have believed me if I said magical powers?"
Then he winced a little. It still sounded silly. "Besides, staying there was stupid."
"Fair enough."
He put his helmet back on his head, with a couple twists and a click to lock it in place. That was the end of that; Nicholas respected the simplicity.
Everything was squared away, so he took one last look around their temporary bastion of safety. Wounded were lined up in the back, being tended to by what few corpsmen the Custody soldiers had left. Bullet holes and blast scorching marred the concrete walls, and the metal barricades were so twisted by the bullets they stopped that they looked more liquid than solid. "I'm ready when you are, sergeant. Lead on."
It turned out there were several hatches in the Fortress's floor - all leading down to the basement. It was an airport, not a castle - ease of access was an order of magnitude more important than defensibility. A pair of them ran along a single underground hallway, and the Knights set up to breach both. Two stacked up on each door, with Nicholas and Reed left to watch.
A non-verbal count from three, and the two pairs mirrored each other exactly, silently yanking open the doors and clearing the space beneath. There was no one there to greet them. One by one they dropped into the passage, crouching to minimize the sound of their impact. Reed went next, catlike, making even less noise than they did.
By the time Nicholas dropped down - a rock to their feather - they were all in cover, and watching down the hallway both ways. The way was mostly dark, with only a few dim light bulbs, spaced far apart. It was the first time he thought that maybe agreeing to the plan was a stupid decision. Not that he had much choice in the matter - if he didn't do it they'd just slowly be whittled down by the rebels - but there's nothing like looking down a dark, underground passageway with religious zealots who want to kill you lurking in wait behind any corner to make you re-evaluate your life choices. The power wouldn't protect him from bullets.
The sergeant raised a hand and did some super top secret Custody sign language - the general gist of which being, 'let's start moving.' So they did exactly that, pausing at each and every door along the way to check for rebels or civilians in hiding. The map of the airport placed the main power grid in roughly the center - only five or six hundred feet away.
It wasn't long before they reached the door - covered with warning signs in several languages. The basement seemed deserted, which either meant that nobody had made it downstairs or there were several dozen people on the other side of that door. The Knights chose to err on the side of caution - as they always did - and stacked up. One on the right side to open the door, with another man next to him. The sergeant on the left, and another standing in the center ready to blow away anyone on the other side. Nicholas and Reed stayed behind, Reed covering the rear.
The sergeant gave the order, and a flashbang grenade was rolled into the room. The startled shouts on the other side were warning enough. Right on the heels of the blinding, deafening blast the man in the center kicked the door in. Shots gouged away whatever remained of the earlier silence - cold, singular and precise from the Knights, frantic and automatic from the terrified men on the other side. There really was no comparison. The men to the sides killed any who were standing diagonal to them, before storming the room on the heels of their point man. It was over in seconds; whoever was directing the attack had been smart enough to post guards, but he just didn't have the right men for the job.
By the time the work was done, bodies lay strewn about various machinery and electrical implements. The smoke rising from a corpse lodged between a pair of steel coils made it clear everything was still in working order. Nicholas made an effort not to look at them. Once the Knights were certain the room was clear, they waved him in. The sergeant didn't take off his helmet, but he spoke. "Well, let's see this thing. Destroy the grid."
Ignoring the stench of blood and shit that had filled the room - Nicholas didn't have the luxury of an environmentally sealed suit - was difficult, so Nicholas turned away and stood in the doorway after nodding to the sergeant. It took a bit longer than usual, but eventually the familiar scorching light of the power took hold. It was kind of like waking a limb long deprived of blood - the return of something integral to your very being that had somehow gone missing without you noticing it.
With the power coursing through his veins, the stench of the room was made far worse. He wanted to be done with it as quickly as possible. Only problem was, everybody was standing in the middle of the room. "Alright, let's get out of the room. I'm not too good with this, and I'd rather not burn any of the good guys to death."
After a moment's hesitation they filed out, and stood behind him in the doorway. He couldn't fault their curiosity.
Spinning strands of fire, and then earth, and then fire - he squeezed them together with all his might. What resulted appeared as a ball of molten, liquid fire. Anything within a few feet was scorched - anything it touched began melting almost instantly. It didn't take long to move it through everything in the room - corpses, generators, wiring - by the end of it the concrete walls were bare, and the floor was covered in rapidly cooling molten metals, with only occasional bits of almost unrecognizable bone remaining.
It didn't take long for the few lights lining the hallway to give out. All the little noises that usually form the background of a large building stopped at once - the little things, like cooling fans in electronics, and the big things, like the building's air conditioning system. It would be getting uncomfortably hot very soon, and Nicholas's miniature forge wasn't helping matters.
Halfway through he'd had to build a wall of air to stop the smoke. Once the room was deconstructed, he set to work figuring out how to dissipate it. He tried compressing it down into a solid with air, but that proved inefficient. Finally, he settled on a gossamer thin filter constructed from strands of air - he pressed the smoke through it and dropped the particles to the floor, a thin, hand-tall pile of dust stretching across the room.
Nicholas could hear muted talking from behind the masks of the Knights - habit likely keeping them from activating their helmet speakers in a combat zone. The sergeant, however, spoke to him. "That has to be the weirdest thing I've seen working this job, and I have seen a lot of weird shit."
He laughed, and clapped Nicholas on the back.
The sight of the burning corpses had left Nicholas a little sick. He wasn't exactly in a laughing mood, even if the power imparted a sort of joy he had never before known. "You're going to see a lot more of it, Sergeant. We still need to get out of here."
The halls were now pitch-black, which only made the Knights' jobs easier. For the mere mortals in the party, however - not so much.
Edited by Nick Trano, May 16 2014, 05:37 PM.
The most likely was that they were just trying to hold out through the night until reinforcements could arrive. The assaults would die with the light. But something a bit more... daring struck him. What if they were to fly out of there? With sufficient cover, it wouldn't be impossible - but he doubted the thin skin of an air liner could survive a hail of bullets. Somebody would have to stay behind. A lot of somebodies.
Reed was practically tapping her foot in impatience when he finally reached her - even if the conversation with the captain had only been a few minutes. He doubted he could convince her to stay behind, but he figured it was worth a shot. "I'm pretty sure you heard everything. So, are you staying behind?"
"You even have to ask?" Reed looked almost disappointed. "Besides, you'll need me whether you know it or not." She really did seem to forget that she'd just barely survived a rocket blast. And he doubted he could remind her - every woman has a selective memory, but she took the concept to new heights.
Nicholas shook his head. "Worth a try."
While he and Reed were chatting, the Knights who would be accompanying them made their way over. He could tell it was the same sergeant from earlier, although the others were practically interchangeable - faceless masks and near-identical armor tend to do that.
They passed him and Reed a pair of bullet proof vests, and Nicholas was glad for it. He was allergic to bullets, after all. They offered him a rifle, but he refused. The last time he'd been to a range was almost ten years ago now, and he didn't feel like shooting his own foot off. He might have known enough about guns to argue the finer points of the law - but he had no illusions about his own capabilities. Reed was under no such reservations. By the time he finished explaining why he didn't need the rifle, she had one slung on her back, and the vest was loaded with magazines.
The sergeant - Hossayni - pulled off his helmet and gave Nicholas a level look. "Stupidity, huh?"
Apparently Nicholas's explanation from earlier wasn't quite good enough.
Nicholas could only shrug. "Would you have believed me if I said magical powers?"
Then he winced a little. It still sounded silly. "Besides, staying there was stupid."
"Fair enough."
He put his helmet back on his head, with a couple twists and a click to lock it in place. That was the end of that; Nicholas respected the simplicity.
Everything was squared away, so he took one last look around their temporary bastion of safety. Wounded were lined up in the back, being tended to by what few corpsmen the Custody soldiers had left. Bullet holes and blast scorching marred the concrete walls, and the metal barricades were so twisted by the bullets they stopped that they looked more liquid than solid. "I'm ready when you are, sergeant. Lead on."
It turned out there were several hatches in the Fortress's floor - all leading down to the basement. It was an airport, not a castle - ease of access was an order of magnitude more important than defensibility. A pair of them ran along a single underground hallway, and the Knights set up to breach both. Two stacked up on each door, with Nicholas and Reed left to watch.
A non-verbal count from three, and the two pairs mirrored each other exactly, silently yanking open the doors and clearing the space beneath. There was no one there to greet them. One by one they dropped into the passage, crouching to minimize the sound of their impact. Reed went next, catlike, making even less noise than they did.
By the time Nicholas dropped down - a rock to their feather - they were all in cover, and watching down the hallway both ways. The way was mostly dark, with only a few dim light bulbs, spaced far apart. It was the first time he thought that maybe agreeing to the plan was a stupid decision. Not that he had much choice in the matter - if he didn't do it they'd just slowly be whittled down by the rebels - but there's nothing like looking down a dark, underground passageway with religious zealots who want to kill you lurking in wait behind any corner to make you re-evaluate your life choices. The power wouldn't protect him from bullets.
The sergeant raised a hand and did some super top secret Custody sign language - the general gist of which being, 'let's start moving.' So they did exactly that, pausing at each and every door along the way to check for rebels or civilians in hiding. The map of the airport placed the main power grid in roughly the center - only five or six hundred feet away.
It wasn't long before they reached the door - covered with warning signs in several languages. The basement seemed deserted, which either meant that nobody had made it downstairs or there were several dozen people on the other side of that door. The Knights chose to err on the side of caution - as they always did - and stacked up. One on the right side to open the door, with another man next to him. The sergeant on the left, and another standing in the center ready to blow away anyone on the other side. Nicholas and Reed stayed behind, Reed covering the rear.
The sergeant gave the order, and a flashbang grenade was rolled into the room. The startled shouts on the other side were warning enough. Right on the heels of the blinding, deafening blast the man in the center kicked the door in. Shots gouged away whatever remained of the earlier silence - cold, singular and precise from the Knights, frantic and automatic from the terrified men on the other side. There really was no comparison. The men to the sides killed any who were standing diagonal to them, before storming the room on the heels of their point man. It was over in seconds; whoever was directing the attack had been smart enough to post guards, but he just didn't have the right men for the job.
By the time the work was done, bodies lay strewn about various machinery and electrical implements. The smoke rising from a corpse lodged between a pair of steel coils made it clear everything was still in working order. Nicholas made an effort not to look at them. Once the Knights were certain the room was clear, they waved him in. The sergeant didn't take off his helmet, but he spoke. "Well, let's see this thing. Destroy the grid."
Ignoring the stench of blood and shit that had filled the room - Nicholas didn't have the luxury of an environmentally sealed suit - was difficult, so Nicholas turned away and stood in the doorway after nodding to the sergeant. It took a bit longer than usual, but eventually the familiar scorching light of the power took hold. It was kind of like waking a limb long deprived of blood - the return of something integral to your very being that had somehow gone missing without you noticing it.
With the power coursing through his veins, the stench of the room was made far worse. He wanted to be done with it as quickly as possible. Only problem was, everybody was standing in the middle of the room. "Alright, let's get out of the room. I'm not too good with this, and I'd rather not burn any of the good guys to death."
After a moment's hesitation they filed out, and stood behind him in the doorway. He couldn't fault their curiosity.
Spinning strands of fire, and then earth, and then fire - he squeezed them together with all his might. What resulted appeared as a ball of molten, liquid fire. Anything within a few feet was scorched - anything it touched began melting almost instantly. It didn't take long to move it through everything in the room - corpses, generators, wiring - by the end of it the concrete walls were bare, and the floor was covered in rapidly cooling molten metals, with only occasional bits of almost unrecognizable bone remaining.
It didn't take long for the few lights lining the hallway to give out. All the little noises that usually form the background of a large building stopped at once - the little things, like cooling fans in electronics, and the big things, like the building's air conditioning system. It would be getting uncomfortably hot very soon, and Nicholas's miniature forge wasn't helping matters.
Halfway through he'd had to build a wall of air to stop the smoke. Once the room was deconstructed, he set to work figuring out how to dissipate it. He tried compressing it down into a solid with air, but that proved inefficient. Finally, he settled on a gossamer thin filter constructed from strands of air - he pressed the smoke through it and dropped the particles to the floor, a thin, hand-tall pile of dust stretching across the room.
Nicholas could hear muted talking from behind the masks of the Knights - habit likely keeping them from activating their helmet speakers in a combat zone. The sergeant, however, spoke to him. "That has to be the weirdest thing I've seen working this job, and I have seen a lot of weird shit."
He laughed, and clapped Nicholas on the back.
The sight of the burning corpses had left Nicholas a little sick. He wasn't exactly in a laughing mood, even if the power imparted a sort of joy he had never before known. "You're going to see a lot more of it, Sergeant. We still need to get out of here."
The halls were now pitch-black, which only made the Knights' jobs easier. For the mere mortals in the party, however - not so much.
Edited by Nick Trano, May 16 2014, 05:37 PM.