04-05-2017, 08:35 AM
A few minutes after Seventeen had ‘dealt with’ El Lago, he found himself standing outside the building that had served as the stormtrooper’s barracks during their operation. The trek back to the makeshift barracks had taken a little longer, because he found himself dragging his right boot—bloodied and swollen—the majority of the way.
As he approached the doors, they swung inward to reveal the unmoving features of a helmeted trooper. Before Seventeen had a chance to respond, he found himself staring down the barrel of a nasty-looking rifle. “Identify yourself.”
The cyborg scowled as he held up his left hand and used his right hand to reach into the pocket of his tattered blue jeans. A beat later, he retrieved the scorched trinket left behind by the corpse of El Lago. “I took care of your issue up the street,” Seventeen muttered as he tossed the object toward the trooper. Before the rifle-wielding trooper could react, a soldier in fancier armor had already caught the device and stepped up next to his subordinate.
“You’re dismissed,” the caped trooper barked as the doorman slinked off into the complex. The man’s helmeted countenance swung back to the machine-hybrid. “Excellent. You banished the terrorist?”
“Yea, I guess.” Seventeen responded. “I jammed the little think into her and she went blam!” To emphasize his point, the raven-haired warrior made sure to pantomime a gratuitous explosion with his bony, bloody fingers.
The caped trooper tilted his helmet before glancing back at the scorched trinket. There was a few more moments of silence before he simply slipped the device into his pocket and gestured into the compound. “I believe you. We’ll know for sure in a few hours, when we send out the cleaners.” The trooper turned and took a step into the Imperial complex.
“You’re going to renovate that nice little street?” Seventeen snickered, sarcasm oozing from his every pore.
The remark made the lead trooper stop mid-step and glance over his shoulder. “We’re going to scrub the place. With fire. Purge any remaining rogue elements that may have provided El Lago and her filth with materiel or safe harbor.”
“Do you salt the earth afterwards?” Seventeen laughed.
The trooper tilted his helmet. “Do you suspect fel magicks? Should I call the arcanists?”
Fucking incredible.
“No, I don’t think so.” The raven-haired warrior replied as the trooper gestured for him to follow before setting off into the barracks. “So do I get to go now?” He asked as he trailed the lead soldier through the rundown structure, through a short hallway, and finally into a dimly illuminated backroom. “Or is this the part where I get tied to a chair and bludgeoned?”
Without turning to address the scrawny human, the lead trooper reached up under the sides of his helmet and triggered some concealed latches of some sort. The helmet let out a sigh of compressed air from both sides before it was pulled up off the soldier’s head.
As the white helmet came away, red hair was the first thing the cyborg saw—red hair down to the bottom of the soldier’s shoulder blades. With a thunk the heavy helmet was dropped onto a nearby desk, and the man turned around to reveal that the cyborg had been guilting of gender assumptions. Instead of a butch guy in his late forties with a perfect crew cut and a chin that could cut through steel, the leader of the rundown barracks was a young woman in her late twenties with soft, caramel-colored features and unnerving blue eyes.
“I’m Lieutenant Bianca Skleros with the 13th Legion,” the woman said as she reached a gauntleted hand out for a shake. “Your file said that you’re… Seventeen? As in, the number?”
“Like the number,” the cybernetic warrior assured her. “My sister and I were science fair projects for some looney toon when were little.”
Bianca smirked. “You spend long enough in this place, and you won’t feel so unique.” Walking around the central table, the woman moved her helmet to the side and flipped open a previously unnoticed panel on her forearm plating to reveal a small screen and keyboard. After inputting a quick sequence, she opened up her palm as a small diode at the center of her palm shined a holographic image down onto the dingy steel table.
As he approached the doors, they swung inward to reveal the unmoving features of a helmeted trooper. Before Seventeen had a chance to respond, he found himself staring down the barrel of a nasty-looking rifle. “Identify yourself.”
The cyborg scowled as he held up his left hand and used his right hand to reach into the pocket of his tattered blue jeans. A beat later, he retrieved the scorched trinket left behind by the corpse of El Lago. “I took care of your issue up the street,” Seventeen muttered as he tossed the object toward the trooper. Before the rifle-wielding trooper could react, a soldier in fancier armor had already caught the device and stepped up next to his subordinate.
“You’re dismissed,” the caped trooper barked as the doorman slinked off into the complex. The man’s helmeted countenance swung back to the machine-hybrid. “Excellent. You banished the terrorist?”
“Yea, I guess.” Seventeen responded. “I jammed the little think into her and she went blam!” To emphasize his point, the raven-haired warrior made sure to pantomime a gratuitous explosion with his bony, bloody fingers.
The caped trooper tilted his helmet before glancing back at the scorched trinket. There was a few more moments of silence before he simply slipped the device into his pocket and gestured into the compound. “I believe you. We’ll know for sure in a few hours, when we send out the cleaners.” The trooper turned and took a step into the Imperial complex.
“You’re going to renovate that nice little street?” Seventeen snickered, sarcasm oozing from his every pore.
The remark made the lead trooper stop mid-step and glance over his shoulder. “We’re going to scrub the place. With fire. Purge any remaining rogue elements that may have provided El Lago and her filth with materiel or safe harbor.”
“Do you salt the earth afterwards?” Seventeen laughed.
The trooper tilted his helmet. “Do you suspect fel magicks? Should I call the arcanists?”
Fucking incredible.
“No, I don’t think so.” The raven-haired warrior replied as the trooper gestured for him to follow before setting off into the barracks. “So do I get to go now?” He asked as he trailed the lead soldier through the rundown structure, through a short hallway, and finally into a dimly illuminated backroom. “Or is this the part where I get tied to a chair and bludgeoned?”
Without turning to address the scrawny human, the lead trooper reached up under the sides of his helmet and triggered some concealed latches of some sort. The helmet let out a sigh of compressed air from both sides before it was pulled up off the soldier’s head.
As the white helmet came away, red hair was the first thing the cyborg saw—red hair down to the bottom of the soldier’s shoulder blades. With a thunk the heavy helmet was dropped onto a nearby desk, and the man turned around to reveal that the cyborg had been guilting of gender assumptions. Instead of a butch guy in his late forties with a perfect crew cut and a chin that could cut through steel, the leader of the rundown barracks was a young woman in her late twenties with soft, caramel-colored features and unnerving blue eyes.
“I’m Lieutenant Bianca Skleros with the 13th Legion,” the woman said as she reached a gauntleted hand out for a shake. “Your file said that you’re… Seventeen? As in, the number?”
“Like the number,” the cybernetic warrior assured her. “My sister and I were science fair projects for some looney toon when were little.”
Bianca smirked. “You spend long enough in this place, and you won’t feel so unique.” Walking around the central table, the woman moved her helmet to the side and flipped open a previously unnoticed panel on her forearm plating to reveal a small screen and keyboard. After inputting a quick sequence, she opened up her palm as a small diode at the center of her palm shined a holographic image down onto the dingy steel table.