The Zhanaarkan Dead

Erlan runs to the truck, getting into the passenger's seat as the air explodes with the roar of engines and the chopping of spinning blades, the group kicking up a cloud of dust in their wake as they set out into the burning desert. As they pull away, the Merlin Hawk swoops down and lands on the truck bed.

The trip takes the better part of an hour, Erlan directing the team Northwest towards a collection of distant rocks and small mountains. The sun beats down, its glare off the sands painful to look at without the benefit of a tinted windshield or flare compensation.

Then, some thirty five minutes into the journey, they see it. Nearing a cliff suddenly reveals a blackened sprawl of ruined and crumbling buildings heaped around the remains of skyscrapers, little stone corpses at the feet of dead giants. The desolation of the place is striking, and none of the group can help but feel a little unsettled by the sight. A high pitched screech fills the air; Ace's hawk has taken off from the bed and has now taken to following the truck while keeping as far from the old city as possible, seemingly loathe to come any nearer than he has to.

Erlan gives the ruins a somber look. "Zhurekadyr. It used to be a mid-sized city on flat clay. Then, ten years ago, there was a war around here. A big one. Some mage and a dragon got pissed at each other or somethin'. I don't know the details. The causes of these things don't tend to matter afterwards. I remember seeing the horizon glow at the time. I remember thinking it was beautiful."
When he turns to Kraft, his eyes look haunted, all trace of his usual fire gone. "These rocks? They were from that war. The magic and the bombs wound up ripping great chunks of earth right out of the ground. No one in Zhurekadyr survived the war. No one." He shivers, tearing his eyes away from city's remains, instead pointing towards a concealed path leading off between two ridges. His voice trembles slightly, obviously still shaken by the sight of the ruins. "C-come on. We're getting close. The path is over there. Nalan should-should probably hang back here if she doesn't want to be seen."

The ride outwards was a gruesome one indeed, if one considered the history of the vehicle which so readily sped across the dry desert crust. Kraft, far more pragmatic, does not worry himself with the details of the method in which the truck was acquired; Rather, his tender concern is more for the hard bench's effect upon his derriere. After only a few minutes, a mute mental command kills the tactile feedback from his rump - and the majority of his lower spine. Now riding on a cushion of numbness, the Doctor allows his mind to drift during the nearly hour long ride.

'... left along Oak Ave. LEFT! LEFT! Okay, body down, should be Snarl.'
Mails' shoes skid along the pavement as he dropped prone next to the gurgling body, grimacing at the damage done. He taps his throat mic once, spitting out his recommendation. 'Flechette. Looks like one pierced lung at least, I can't tell the extent of the internal damage though. I'm going to have to get him out of the field.'
The crackled command came through in approval, and the Doctor's servos whined as he pulled the pulped ork up, slinging it over his neck in a classic fire-man's drill. Dust explodes from the drywall next to him, making the Doctor duck instinctively as he hustles out of the end-zone. Urban Brawl was always a dangerous sport.
'I've got him! I've got him! Get me twenty m-'

The Doctor blinks, coming back to reality as he registers Erlan talking to him, covering up his brief lapse with a thoughtful purse of the lips. "Yes. Magic, like any ability, can be used to bring about wrathful destruction when unbound by the laws of Man. It is fortunate that the quarrel ended when it did.." His eyes turn towards the broken remnants of their destination. "... before this miserly scene had spread further." He nods his head once, and then taps his mic to activate it.

>> To: Everyone
>> From: DocComm
>>
>> "Erlan says this is as far as you fliers can go. Any joining the interception party, this is our stop. Give me a moment to confer with our guide, and we'll set a time limit for the cavalry to swing into action, hmm? With luck, we can catch them from all sides at once."
>>
>> Transmission Sent

"Erlan, how long do you suppose it will take us to cross the threshold of the Raider encampment? I'd like to place ourselves at a flanking angle, for which to better distribute our lead when the time comes for the aerial charge."

The truck came to a halt and Serik climbed down before stretching and doing a few calathetics. The ride had been uneventful, if not particularly comfortable, but then, that was the way of it for the big meta these days. He tucked the bag of food into a loop on his belt, Never know when you might need some food... He donned his weapons crisscross across his back in his usual fashion and looked towards the ruined city. He'd heard rumors of the fight but had not visited the ruins himself. It was supposed to have been one of those 'epic' battles the likes of which you never see in your lifetime, but the destruction was equally epic. A whole city had been wiped out in a matter of minutes or hours, depending on the version of the story.

Serik shook his head sadly and took out his binoculars to scan the horizon, taking care to prevent the sun from reflecting off the glassware. He waited patiently for the two men in the truck to exit and for the two fast movers to either join them or acknowledge their holding pattern.

Erlan shrugs, putting his hand to his eyes to shield them from the sun as he looks out across the crags. "I'd say it would take us about thirty minutes. We won't be able to take the the truck far before we'll have to stow it in a cave, and then we'll need to walk about a kilo over difficult terrain. So, yeah, thirty minutes."
He turns to look at Kraft, who suddenly notices that, despite his steady voice, Erlan's hand is visibly trembling. The youth hesitates, clearly wanting to ask something but seeming to think better of it.

Compared to the jarring ride in the truck, Nalan traveled in relative luxury. The helicopter was loud, undoubtedly more so than the raider vehicle, but Nalan wouldn't trade them for anything. Flying meant freedom, an escape from the flat, cracked dirt and the shifting, wind-swept dunes.

That sense of liberty carried over into how Nalan handled the Wasp. Instead of flying in a straight line she laid on the cyclic, overbalancing the craft until it slipped off its cushion of air. Then she would fall, letting her altitude plummet and her velocity soar until the ground jutted up in her face.

When the altimeter chimed and squawked at her, and the flashing icon representing her orientation to the ground showed her nearly on top of the line representing a jarring end to the flight, Nalan slammed on the rudder and watched the landscape blur past the cockpit window as she peeled out into a sideways curve. It was exhilarating, fun, and she still managed to keep up with the Doctor.

They arrived too soon. Nalan got the Doctor's message and sent back a quick confirmation. She would hover at about fifty meters, just to get a good view of which direction the truck would go. She wanted to be ready when it was time to move out, whenever that was.

>> To: Everyone
>> From: DocComm
>>
>> "Our guide says thirty minutes before we are in a flanking position. Thirty five, then, in case we hit a snag. Once you two come roaring in, we'll take the reacting defenders from the side, in order to avoid friendly fire. After external defenders are worn down, we can focus on digging out remnants in the buildings."
"At thirty five minute mark, we'll set our commlinks open and sync them. That way we can pinpoint one another. I expect more than our fair share of chaos."
>>
>>Transmission sent
>> Comm Status Changed: Hidden
>> Comm Status: Hidden

The Doctor flips his wrist-comm closed, and quietly reaches into a pocket of his jumpsuit - pulling out three Cram patches. And holding one out for Serik. The other? For Erlan, of course.

"These will assist us greatly, but at a cost; You will hurt afterwards, and will need a lot of rest. However, they'll last for a few hours. I don't expect us to be about for that length of time." The Doctor's eyes flick down to Erlan's shaking hands, and a single eyebrow pops up. His voice lowered, for the boy alone.

"If you're having second thoughts, lad, now's the time to lay out your concerns. Better to remain here and not place my team at risk, hmm?"

Usually Ace preferred t o fly low to the ground. The exhilaration at moving break neck speeds over treacherous terrain was unimaginable. However, it had a series side effect in the desert. Traveling at such speeds with her exhaust that close to the sand kicked up a dust trail one could spot from miles away. Nothing screams stealth like a mini sand storm racing across the ground. So she forced herself to maintain a higher altitude.

Ace rolled her eyes as she received Doc’s transmission. Thirty five minutes? She gritted her teeth as she applied her air brakes. The anticipation of battle was almost too much. She had to take a series of deep breaths to calm herself. For a moment she wondered if Doc and Serik were just trying to hog all the action, but she quickly dismissed the idea. They knew better than to take on the raiders without her.

She gave a deep sigh, as she shifted her VTOL engine into idle. She checked the time on her commlink. Thirty four minutes and counting. This was going to be a long wait.

Erlan hides his hands quickly, evidently embarrassed. "I'm not having second thoughts, Doc. I'm just scared when I think about what we'll find in there. I'm not afraid to die, but...well, I have friends who were taken. Mariam was almost blood kin. Suppose we-suppose we find...." He trails off, unable to finish saying what he was thinking. His eyes are beseeching, evidently afraid that Kraft and Serik would think him a coward.

Taking the Cram (but not using it), he turns to look at the craggy path. "Can we just move out? The faster we get this over with, the less I gotta think about this stuff."

Serik declined the offered tabs from the Doctor, shaking his massive head. "I like to keep my head clear Doc, thanks." The large meta turned to look at Erlan, and placed a friendly, yet massive hand on his shoulder. "I don't like to dash hopes while they can still save a person, but its best if you just assume that Mariam is gone. That way you can do what we need you to do. Which is lead us in there...Now..." Serik turned his head slightly towards the ruined city and inclined his massive snout slightly. It's time to finish this. Lead the way..."

Serik removed his hand, and reached into the bag of food, removing a ripe melon of some sort, and a couple dates, which he quietly munched on. He looked at the Doc for a moment, and then back at Erlan, and then back at the Doc, and raised an eyebrow, when the young ranger wasn't looking, as if to say think he'll be okay?

Grim as the scene of devestation about them, the Doctor nods his head once to Erlan's query about heading out. Frankly, he didn't have an answer for the young man; It was likely his friends are there, and are changed.

. o O (There can be no salvation. Only mercy and bullets.) O o .

He then catches Serik's glance, and shrugs a single shoulder. 'No choice'. Erlan was there, and if they tried to leave him behind, he'd only follow and cause trouble by not knowing where to stand. The Doctor unholsters his pistol, his monocle whirring as it establishes connection and paints the landscape with an invisible arcing line; The fire-path of his Predator.

"Lead the way." He states, to Erlan. Thirty three minutes.

The three set out, initially taking the truck into the trail, though they only drive maybe a half kilometer before having to stow it in a cave. The "path", it turns out, is a series of narrow ledges and jagged stone pillars. As they proceed along it, Serik begins to understand why Erlan insisted upon guiding them himself. No amount of instruction could prepare anyone for such a road, which at times is little more than a series of stepping stones over vast chasms. Erlan at several points instructs Kraft and Serik not to look down while crossing a particularly deep or perilous canyon, advice which was only disobeyed once. The way is shifting and freeform, Erlan several times taking new or unfamiliar paths because the old ones had collapsed. The journey is dangerous, but not exhausting; the sun is not high yet, and the travelers are in perpetual shade.

After twenty minutes of travel, Erlan stops at a gap in the western rock wall. The three are in a narrow, round ditch, carved cleanly through a chunk of solid limestone that juts over the side of a gneiss pillar. The left side is little more than a narrow wall, and here it had crumbled away. On the other side is the city of Zhurekadyr.

Erlan turns to Serik and Kraft, motioning to be quiet, his voice whispering. "This isn't good. We'll be briefly visible passing by here. However, if we're quick, I doubt they'll see us. Gonna have to be quiet, though. We're pretty close to one of the towers."
He takes a deep breath, then runs across the gap, his footsteps soft. A held breath. No shots.

Kraft is next. He moves across. No shots again. Only Serik left.

Serik moves. Halfway across, there is a crumbling sound from below. Kraft hears it first, gasping a warning in as quiet a voice as he can. It's a good thing he does. Serik hears him, the extra seconds gained giving him just enough time to jump and land on his side as the previous section of the limestone path collapses, kicking up a cloud of dust. There is a breathless moment, the air silent but for the dying echoes of falling debris. A gentle breeze winds through the tunnel, lightly stirring the dust and sand.

Erlan exhales as he leans against the righthand wall, wiping his brow with his sleeve. "That was close. It's a good thing parts of the rocks are collapsing all the time. They probably didn't take much notice because of how often it happens."

Over a kilometer away, Ace begins to feel increasingly uneasy about the old city. Something about the place seems to nag at her, like white noise that isn't noise. It's merely distracting when outside the city's borders, but she can feel it get worse as she gets closer.

Thirteen minutes.

It was a fine, hot day for infiltrating an insane undead cult, it appears. Kraft - initially suspect of their guide - quietly comes to admire the boy's prowess in leading them through the broken down path, and then to congratulate himself on his decision to bring the wounded fellow along. That congratulations, however, is short lived as they come across the broken crevasse which they must soon leap. Grimacing to himself, but nodding grimly, the Doctor allows his enhanced body to perform as it was designed to do; Padding across the narrow stretch as quickly as he can, and pressing himself against the wall as he awaits the deadly sniper from below..

No sound. His ease is not earned, however, as he hears the walk way behind crack and crumble. He hisses a warning to Serik, then slides aside to allow the larger Meta room to sprint. At last at a reprieve, the Doctor takes a moment to adjust his monocle and wipe what perspiration made it past his headband from his nose; Only his face seems flushed with adrenaline; The rest of him does not perspire. He then straightens, and nods.

"Alright. Whether they've noticed or not, we must press forward. Maintain your guard, gentlemen; If we draw their fire, they'll be ill-prepared for the cavalry assault to follow. Lead on, my good man, we've daring deeds to do."

Serik heaved a heavy sigh of relief as he cleared the falling stones, landing fairly agilely for such a large meta. He too stopped to listen for a few moments as the stones came to their rumbling halt below them, out of sight. He considered peeking through the hole behind him to check but decided against it, as Erlan had demonstrated a high level of knowledge of the area. "Ironically, it's just as well that we didn't come last night..." he whispered to Doc, as the trio moved off again. Serik's size was at times a help and sometimes an hinderance on this trek. His size and weight caused stress on the stonework trail that the humans did not cause, but his longer stride and reach made it possible to cross bigger gaps, and reach out to higher and further hand holds.

"How much further?" he asked quietly as he was aware of the passing time, but not cognizant of the exact chronological allotment.

The next seven minutes are a procession of tunnels and gorges. The air is unnaturally still, the silence so much as to be unnerving. Perhaps it is the knowledge that the the slightest misstep could cause the floor to collapse, or maybe it's the raiders with the high-powered rifles, but every sound seems amplified. Footsteps seem too loud, pebbles crunching beneath their feet may as well be firecrackers. It is difficult not to cough or sneeze, so cracked and dry is the dusty air. The wind has stopped.

At the five minute mark, Erlan halts at the end of a tunnel. He turns, his eyes worried. "Okay, Doc. You told me to keep out of the fighting, so that's what I'm gonna do."
He turns and gestures to the opening to the tunnel, which is easily five feet wide and ten feet high. Beyond it, the right-hand wall continues a good ten meters as a rocky cliff, but the roof is exposed and the left side is a sheer cliff, leaving the entire run exposed but for three pillars of living stone standing in a row. On the other end is another cave.

Erlan explains. "Get into that cave and follow it. You'll come out at ground level near the base of the East tower. Only problem is, we're East of that building and the path runs South-Northwest. You're gonna be visible from the tower for the entire length. Especially you, Serik." He says, nodding to the troll. "The Doc can conceal himself behind those pillars, but you're not gonna have that luxury, if you don't mind me saying so. If you can get past there, though, you'll be able to sneak up on the raiders in the East tower. You'll be too close for them to get line of sight to you."

He steps back, giving way to the two mercenaries. His eyes are anxious, but when he speaks, his voice is unwavering. "You told me to keep outta it and I will. I'll head back to the truck and wait for you guys there."

He nods to the two. "Good luck."

8 minutes.

Nalan frowned in silence. Her playlist ended, and suddenly the music died. She considered queuing it to repeat but quickly decided against it. This was waiting time, not psyching up time. That meant she had a chance to think, something she had been hoping to avoid. Because when she got to thinking, she got to wondering. And the foremost item on her list of things to wonder was what she was doing there, hovering off the ground a kilometer away from a wrecked city inhabited by out-of-control raiders. And why she was letting the Doctor and the troll try to sneak there with Erlan while she and Ace hung back. That one had her confused. The plan seemed solid earlier... or rather, it seemed like the Doctor had a solid grasp on the situation. But in retrospect, she found herself doubting. She also wondered if she wasn't alone.

Determined to find out, she opened a comm channel to Ace and asked the question that weighed so heavily on her mind. "Hey Ace, why is it that we're hanging back and letting them have all the fun instead of rushing the bastards and shooting them up ourselves?" She paused, an impish grin almost audible in her voice. "I bet we can have this all wrapped up before they even finish hiking, and maybe, if you drive fast enough? I'll leave some for you to take care of."

Nodding his head once to the guide, the Doctor places him from his mind as he raises a hand to Serik. Focusing on the green crono ticking down in the corner of his monocle. "Five minutes. God speed, Erlan, and don't stop." He murmurs. He then presses up against the edge of the tunnel, crouching down a moment. Feeling the tactile sense of hard rock pressed against his jumpsuit as he cycles a deep breath of air through his lungs, and pulls the predator out. Keeping it crossed over his chest to prevent the bright sunlight from making it shine, the Doctor eases his head around the corner of the enclosure..

The monocle whirring busily to itself as it begins zooming in on the east most tower. The Doctor silently, grimly checking for snipers. No use switching to thermographic; They don't produce body heat, so far as he'd seen. His other hand held up in a 'wait' motion for Serik as he speaks softly.

"Hold on... you'll have to go first. If you can make it through, I'll have an easier time. If I go first, we'll be seperated.."

Serik never the chance to reply. As if punctuating Kraft's sentence, there is an explosion of dust and splintered limestone, followed by the distinctive thud of a sonic boom. Fresh holes appear on the cave's inner and outer wall, the steel bullet less than half a foot from puncturing Serik's shoulder blade.

A second thud. Another round thumps against the edge of the cave opening, disintegrating a fist sized chunk of living stone into a cloud of falling sand. Just before ducking behind cover, Kraft catches the glint of light from a sniper scope. In the windows of the tower, dark shapes begin to move.

4 minutes and 30 seconds.

Before anyone can react, another round bursts through the wall, slamming into Kraft's left shoulder. Fortunately, Kraft's armor catches it, but the force of the impact still causes him to stumble forward. The damage is minimal. This time.

On the other side of the wall, Serik and Kraft can hear the distant echo of a familiar, feral rasp.

Serik winced as rock chips flew from the bullet passing through the rock 'wall' nearby, as he scrambled in one of his pouches for something. He pulled out a canister that, in his massive hand looked small. He fiddled with a ring near one end, finally hooking it on a tusk and pulling the canister away from his mouth, in order to remove the attached pin. He rolled it towards the open area along the path, the canister bouncing and twisting as it hit a small pile of rubble and bounced towards a pillar and neared the edge. Serik held his breath as it finally came to a stop about eight inches from the edge, up against one of the three pillars and began to spew a billowing cloud of dark smoke.

"Get ready to run Doc!"

A breathe in. A breathe out. And the world slows down. The Doctor's pupils dilate slightly as the drugs kick in, and he watches with fascination the rock shrapnel that slowly floats about from the sniper's bullet strikes. And then he can feel the rock wall behind him shaking, and he turns his head - so slow! - to watch with bated curiosity as the wall blooms outwards like some alien flower. And then his shoulder is jerked forward, the sharp taste of pain snapping him back to reality; Minor injury. With a grunt, he pushes away from the wall and begins pulling his shotgun over his shoulder. Backpedaling to another position, as he kneels and braces.

"Back up, Serik! Draw them into us. If we try to run for it, that sniper will tear us apart. All we have to do is keep their attention on us." He shoulders the shotgun, monocle whirring as it zooms in. "Aim together, starting from the left-most. They can't see through the smoke.."

. o O (I hope.) O o .

With one last desperate measure, Doc taps his mic and prays. Hopefully the calvary will be in range.

>> To: All
>> From: DocComm
>>
>> "Under fire. They were waiting."
>>
>> Sent. Receipt status unknown.

All falls silent, but for the hissing of the smoke grenade. Kraft can hear himself breathing, the faint whirr of his cyberware, the dull rhythm of his heartbeat. The world takes a breath, and all is still.

---

Crack.
Just as Nalan finishes speaking, she hears the sound and sees Ace fall to her knees. Ace's right shin splinters, a red mist bursting out of her calf.

Paff.
Another shot opens a hole in Ace's chest. She reels, then falls forward, her body pitching over the cliff and dropping out of sight.

Ace wasn't answering... Nalan wondered if the gunslinger even had her commlink on, or if she was ignoring her or something. Nalan supposed she couldn't blame the woman after what she'd done, but it didn't seem very professional, with them poised to attack. She swiveled the nose mounted sensor towards the rocket bike to see why the gunslinger wasn't responding. The timing was impeccable... Nalan just caught the double impact on the camera, wincing violently as she plummeted an impossibly long fall, apparently dead to the world. It was so sudden, so unexpected... the amount of timing required to coordinate that attack with the one on the Doctor and Serik was terrifying. But... there was nothing that could be done now short of trying to head down there to find her body. And even then, she would need the Doctor alive and well if they had any chance of healing her from those wounds.

She had no choice but to go ahead with the plan, even though they were already off to a terrible start. At the very worst she could move up and cover the ground forces' retreat. Actually... the very worst was all of them being murdered- no wait, being captured and turned into those mindless dead monstrosities. Yup! Nalan had quickly jumped to the worst possible outcome, and it was with that in mind that she set off to cover the kilometer to the Doctor's position, transmitting a quick message to let him know she was on her way:

"Air support on the way. Be aware: we've lost Ace. I repeat: Ace is dead. What should we do?"

A couple seconds later, after thinking about it a moment, she sent off a second message... just to cover all her bases:

"It wasn't me."

The whirr of his own cyberware venting its heat lulled at Kraft's overactive mind as the drugs coursed through his system; Making him far faster than a normal human. But would it be enough? Such grim thoughts filled the Doctor's mind as he sighted down the shotgun's barrel, his monocle whirring quietly to itself as it flickered across the thermal and back again. No use; Dead men shed no heat of life. He could only hope his broadcast warning would reach Nalan and Ace; Or, at the very least, Nalan. Her helicopter likely had a broader range for pickup than his tiny wrist-comm. He taps the mic on his neck one last time, to transmit a message, before his hands drop back to his shotgun.

"Wait for it..."

>> Begin Transmission
>> To: All
>> From: DocComm
>>
>> "Sniper on East tower, aimed for us. Be careful, if you're getting this."
>>
>> Transmission Sent. Receipt unknown.
>> Com Status: Hidden/Transmitting Location on Private Channel Designated: Compatriot
>>

Serik scuttled backwards from the danger zone, where the sniper could see them, reaching under his coat to withdraw his own shotgun. As he gripped the Mossberg handle, his smartlink system came online, and acknowledged the gun on the network. The big meta moved backwards, watching the smoke cloud in front of him for movement, until he reached Doc's location. He glanced over at the human who appeared to be talking into his comms. Serik shrugged and dropped prone onto the cool stone floor, aiming his shotgun down the hallway towards the billowing smoke grenade. He flicked through his optical sensor suite finally selecting Ultrasonic vision as the mode least affected by the thermal smoke grenade, and aimed down the barrel of the shotgun. It was only a matter of time now...

The stillness is unnerving, for a moment. Even the rasping of the raiders is gone. Such moments are paranoia inducing; suddenly, every shadow is a skulking foe, every wavering wisp of smoke the hideous rictus of a maddened corpse.

It doesn't last.

Suddenly, there is a shrieking hiss, its crescendo ending with a thundering boom. The wall ahead, where Serik and Kraft were just standing, explodes in a shower of dust and flying rubble. Sand falls from the ceiling, scattering onto the cavern floor.

The noise subsides, leaving in its wake a large hole in the wall and a ringing in Serik and Kraft's ears.

---

As Nalan takes off, a minute flash of light from the West Tower catches her eye, easily missed by someone with eyes less keen. A puff of dust is kicked up as another shot digs into the dirt of the clifftop, scouring a groove in the dry earth.