Dark Sectors
Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2017 5:42 am
October 28th, 2027
The previous weeks had turned Hope's seasoned combatants and paralegal defenders into raw nerves and muscles. What had been years in the making for Aidan and most of the others had been centuries of careful observation for many others. Of them all, Meris and Nereus were those who were most directly concerned. Weeks of subterfuge and backroom deals had culminated in some of the most explosive ten seconds in Drake's life. It was all mostly a blur - all he distinctly remembered now was wearing himself hoarse as he shot at Wesley Chambers and his goons, the Black Speech at his lips, and simultaneously covered the escape of a target he knew any seasoned marksman could've clipped, if he hadn't been careful. The man formerly known as Xenophon Thanos had first put up quite a fight, unaware as he'd been of the exact nature of their attack.
Aidan still remembered the moment the light shifted in Nereus' eyes. Hope, almost painfully surging through someone who'd forgotten its uplifting grasp. Seconds later, the guru's armed retinue had started shooting at their employer, their vacant eyes hidden behind wrap-around sunglasses they'd all learned to recognize.
Chambers had tried everything. He'd even lashed the flesh of several guards together into a monstrous, hulking beast - one which Tom and Aislinn had fried to a crisp with conjured lightning and Hellfire. His mind was still swimming from it all - Najeeban seemed so risible, now... Jameson's shuttle had flown off, dangerously veering off-course when a physically-manifested blast of raw, kinetic rage knocked it aside. That had been Chambers' last hail-mary, and he'd almost managed to crash them all on the craggy coast off of Southern California.
A few days passed in Hong Kong. At first, Marinos had been docile, even somewhat groggy. Everything had proven to be too much for him to process at once, so he just followed along. Then, on the morning of the third day, Tom had been awakened by Nereus' wails. Centuries of pent-up abuse were discharged in a few hours, Marinos turning Mary's personal training facilities into a warzone with nothing but his mind. Every dummy seemed to wear Chambers' face, every target practice sheet had his jailer's silhouette. They also lost Meris for a few hours, as the long-separated couple found time to seemingly fuse back together. Even with doors closed and the blinds drawn, you didn't need to see or hear much to understand the Augur also had centuries of longing to express.Archie had been impressed: Nereus loved Meris like few immortals had seemingly loved another deathless individual. The norm involved a growing sense of distance, but the former Augur had seemingly spent centuries pining for his lover and companion.
Then, like clockwork, Preston had picked up signs of a routed Renewal's attempt to not only spin the guru's absence, but also to recover him. George and Randolph were subjected to raids at their residences but came through largely unscathed. A phone call from Archie saw to it that his brother and the Grimley Circus would take the Drakes, along with Katherine Starr and Tiara Delgado, in for further protection. As expected, their temporary new location was kept secret. If Charles didn't know where his daughter was kept, then neither did nosy telepaths from the ocean's depths. It was cold and ruthless - but it had been the right call. Still, with the Void Weavers on the chase and the Gentlemen mopping things up behind Holden Hall, all immediate ties had to be cut - and quickly.
And so, even as the Day of the Dead neared and Magnus felt the stirrings of Evil in the air around Jameson's heliport, a peculiar figure - contacted by Caliban Smith on their behalf - greeted them at the harbor's Taiang Sheng Spaceport. Tyler Renny was appropriately human-sized, but ensconced in a black-and-gray exosuit that bore uncountable signs of strain and repair. His red dot-matrix visor displayed a smiley-face that receded into two simple points, and a four-fingered hand cocked what had probably been some sort of Stetson-esque hat in another life. It was now floppy in places, the starch gone from the brown leather, and as worn-out and comfortable-looking as the padded leather duster he wore. His voice had a tinny quality to it, less like a Victorian Clank's and more like a verbose AI's - if said artificial intelligence had sported a quasi-Australian accent and what had to be a solid lifetime of burr and grit.
"Nice to meet you all," he said, nodding. "I gather you're in something of a hurry, so my men helped out Hauser's by a margin or two: you lot are officially electrochemical compounds being shipped to Sector Four's microfactories as of this moment. I've bribed everyone on this here terminal - nobody's seen you here before. As of right now, you're in the troposphere and about to make your descent to one of Marinos' Ibiza resorts..."
Nereus looked exhausted, but his eyes carried a sense of lucidity and self-assurance that had only developed in the last few days. He was still wearing the same suit he'd worn on the day of his rescue, Mary's staff having quickly taken the Augur's meagre belongings to the dry-cleaners, a few days ago.
"We're headed to Paradise, I take it?" he asked, the long and balding locks and sternum-length beard having been traded for a shorn head and a closely-trimmed goatee. As enormous as he was, he was the first Void Weaver they'd see that carried it well. Either Amaxi hadn't noticed the treachery, or She believed that pulling health and vigor out from under Her defecting servant's feet wouldn't serve as adequate punishment.
"Yarp," agreed Renny. "Armstrong Station first, then pods aboard the Gong Zillah. It's an ion-drive ship. We spend three weeks going extrasolar, then we hit the jump point for Gliese. We've always made our jumps back home from the inner reaches of your asteroid belt."
Tom seemed unconvinced. "We'll still leave a trail, even if it's covered. Do the Loyalists have operatives outside Sol?"
Renny's mask produced crackling sounds - laughter. "They've tried, for sure. Those the Vanguard didn't space, the Akari tore apart."
He sniffed, then looked at Meris. "Just FYI - we'll be at the edge of a big patch of dark space. I know you've got a swath of demons and some angels on your proverbial Speed Dial, but they'll have a hard time pinging us back. Long-dead worlds apparently fade away from angelic and demonic perception. A month or so in my neck of the woods, and you'll be all set to fix up His Majesty here into another average calamari. Xenophon Thanos'll be officially dead, and they'll need a while to start looking for Nereus Marinos."
The previous weeks had turned Hope's seasoned combatants and paralegal defenders into raw nerves and muscles. What had been years in the making for Aidan and most of the others had been centuries of careful observation for many others. Of them all, Meris and Nereus were those who were most directly concerned. Weeks of subterfuge and backroom deals had culminated in some of the most explosive ten seconds in Drake's life. It was all mostly a blur - all he distinctly remembered now was wearing himself hoarse as he shot at Wesley Chambers and his goons, the Black Speech at his lips, and simultaneously covered the escape of a target he knew any seasoned marksman could've clipped, if he hadn't been careful. The man formerly known as Xenophon Thanos had first put up quite a fight, unaware as he'd been of the exact nature of their attack.
Aidan still remembered the moment the light shifted in Nereus' eyes. Hope, almost painfully surging through someone who'd forgotten its uplifting grasp. Seconds later, the guru's armed retinue had started shooting at their employer, their vacant eyes hidden behind wrap-around sunglasses they'd all learned to recognize.
Chambers had tried everything. He'd even lashed the flesh of several guards together into a monstrous, hulking beast - one which Tom and Aislinn had fried to a crisp with conjured lightning and Hellfire. His mind was still swimming from it all - Najeeban seemed so risible, now... Jameson's shuttle had flown off, dangerously veering off-course when a physically-manifested blast of raw, kinetic rage knocked it aside. That had been Chambers' last hail-mary, and he'd almost managed to crash them all on the craggy coast off of Southern California.
A few days passed in Hong Kong. At first, Marinos had been docile, even somewhat groggy. Everything had proven to be too much for him to process at once, so he just followed along. Then, on the morning of the third day, Tom had been awakened by Nereus' wails. Centuries of pent-up abuse were discharged in a few hours, Marinos turning Mary's personal training facilities into a warzone with nothing but his mind. Every dummy seemed to wear Chambers' face, every target practice sheet had his jailer's silhouette. They also lost Meris for a few hours, as the long-separated couple found time to seemingly fuse back together. Even with doors closed and the blinds drawn, you didn't need to see or hear much to understand the Augur also had centuries of longing to express.Archie had been impressed: Nereus loved Meris like few immortals had seemingly loved another deathless individual. The norm involved a growing sense of distance, but the former Augur had seemingly spent centuries pining for his lover and companion.
Then, like clockwork, Preston had picked up signs of a routed Renewal's attempt to not only spin the guru's absence, but also to recover him. George and Randolph were subjected to raids at their residences but came through largely unscathed. A phone call from Archie saw to it that his brother and the Grimley Circus would take the Drakes, along with Katherine Starr and Tiara Delgado, in for further protection. As expected, their temporary new location was kept secret. If Charles didn't know where his daughter was kept, then neither did nosy telepaths from the ocean's depths. It was cold and ruthless - but it had been the right call. Still, with the Void Weavers on the chase and the Gentlemen mopping things up behind Holden Hall, all immediate ties had to be cut - and quickly.
And so, even as the Day of the Dead neared and Magnus felt the stirrings of Evil in the air around Jameson's heliport, a peculiar figure - contacted by Caliban Smith on their behalf - greeted them at the harbor's Taiang Sheng Spaceport. Tyler Renny was appropriately human-sized, but ensconced in a black-and-gray exosuit that bore uncountable signs of strain and repair. His red dot-matrix visor displayed a smiley-face that receded into two simple points, and a four-fingered hand cocked what had probably been some sort of Stetson-esque hat in another life. It was now floppy in places, the starch gone from the brown leather, and as worn-out and comfortable-looking as the padded leather duster he wore. His voice had a tinny quality to it, less like a Victorian Clank's and more like a verbose AI's - if said artificial intelligence had sported a quasi-Australian accent and what had to be a solid lifetime of burr and grit.
"Nice to meet you all," he said, nodding. "I gather you're in something of a hurry, so my men helped out Hauser's by a margin or two: you lot are officially electrochemical compounds being shipped to Sector Four's microfactories as of this moment. I've bribed everyone on this here terminal - nobody's seen you here before. As of right now, you're in the troposphere and about to make your descent to one of Marinos' Ibiza resorts..."
Nereus looked exhausted, but his eyes carried a sense of lucidity and self-assurance that had only developed in the last few days. He was still wearing the same suit he'd worn on the day of his rescue, Mary's staff having quickly taken the Augur's meagre belongings to the dry-cleaners, a few days ago.
"We're headed to Paradise, I take it?" he asked, the long and balding locks and sternum-length beard having been traded for a shorn head and a closely-trimmed goatee. As enormous as he was, he was the first Void Weaver they'd see that carried it well. Either Amaxi hadn't noticed the treachery, or She believed that pulling health and vigor out from under Her defecting servant's feet wouldn't serve as adequate punishment.
"Yarp," agreed Renny. "Armstrong Station first, then pods aboard the Gong Zillah. It's an ion-drive ship. We spend three weeks going extrasolar, then we hit the jump point for Gliese. We've always made our jumps back home from the inner reaches of your asteroid belt."
Tom seemed unconvinced. "We'll still leave a trail, even if it's covered. Do the Loyalists have operatives outside Sol?"
Renny's mask produced crackling sounds - laughter. "They've tried, for sure. Those the Vanguard didn't space, the Akari tore apart."
He sniffed, then looked at Meris. "Just FYI - we'll be at the edge of a big patch of dark space. I know you've got a swath of demons and some angels on your proverbial Speed Dial, but they'll have a hard time pinging us back. Long-dead worlds apparently fade away from angelic and demonic perception. A month or so in my neck of the woods, and you'll be all set to fix up His Majesty here into another average calamari. Xenophon Thanos'll be officially dead, and they'll need a while to start looking for Nereus Marinos."