Array Class Monitoring System – Coverage zone IV // Group III //

Surviving Members [Full]: Convicted 578043 → 578060

[ -- Class XII Prison World: Attica – ]

Sentence: [Death] / [Twenty Rotation Commitment]

[Rotation II]

...

Rukkali had always known Oxot to be a somewhat particular species.

With a meticulous attention to detail, their minds fixated on the smaller things. That was true in the realms of planning, but also in the sense of touch and sight. It was of these things, that had provide their foundation, that had been the basis of the lineage which lead to their evolution. Their power of observation, and the application to benefit themselves by utilizing it. The military had long taken notice of this, taking advantage of their talents by keeping small groups of them in command structures, even when not directly needed.

After all: when an Oxot grew nervous, it was wise to take note and consider what might have been missed.

"I don't like this place." The field leader spoke with a quiet rasping voice, which shot through Rukkali's mind as it streamed along the translation neural networks. "The soil doesn't sound right."

A murmur of agreement met the statement, as the other Oxot kneaded their claws into the sand. Besides the three soldiers, there were only a few others who had been willing to leave the strider and travel into the ancient city. While most of their number had remained by the craft, standing by on the perimeter and waiting on the transmitter, another three engineers had joined up with the impromptive military unit. The squad of seven, including Rukkali himself, looked around their surroundings one more time.

It wasn't a huge force, but from what could be determined, they weren't about to run into anything that should require more man power.

Or so he hoped.

"I'm not certain what species is with the Siren we've tracked, but it isn't particularly large." One of the soldiers hissed the information out, just enough to be audible to the group. It was the smaller of the two following the field leader, recognizable with a patch of red scales on its tail that never seemed to perfectly blend with the rest of its camouflage. "I'd guess it's that beast of hers. I remember seeing it during the meeting planet-side, before the fighting."

"Is it anything to worry about?" Rukkali asked as he crouched down to view the prints. The footprints were barely visible, even as he brought down the suit HUD screen to analyze. There wasn't much it could tell, although the impressions seemed to indicate that the creature was extremely dense in mass and weight. The Oxot didn't reply immediately, as it rose to peer into the shadows beginning to form along the alleyways.

"Can't be sure, but the creature clearly survived that mess in better shape than any of us did."

Rukkali thought on that statement for a long time as they continued their search through the city; all the while, he tried his best to ignore the itching feeling of hair rising under his suit.

…

[Hico]

The First Commander did not stress his previous title. In fact, outside of the faint acknowledgment that he had once held one at all, Rukkali remained silent on the subject, content to simply watch over the group with his massive height.

It bothered Hico, though.

As the First Commander of the 33rd lines, Rukkali was someone so deserving of respect, and it almost seemed outlandish for him to not seize control and take complete charge of the group.

Yet, at the same time, his patience and willingness to seemed to strengthen the respect that she, and all of the surviving engineers, already felt for him.

The Soldiers of their group might lead them for now, but Rukkali was the one that steered. Subtle suggestions and compliments pushing them along. If the Field leader was aware of it, the massive Oxot didn't seem to mind. Hico was beginning to think that the veteran didn't know what to do in such a situation, and was grasping at any potential option that presented itself.

That, specifically, made her nervous.

The Soldiers had a hard edge to them: impersonal and distant. Both of those traits were traditional and expected of their species, but it was more than just that. The Oxot were a different breed from the Union troopers Hico was experienced with. Unlike a majority of the Union Military which held the line, these were ground combat and infantry soldiers. These were the type they called in for the messy work of quelling trouble. The kind who went in when there was no drone, array, or fleet to rely on from a distance. They were rare along the lines, considering their purpose. Even in the 33rd- which had been overstepping the mercy protocol for cycles. Ground and boarding combat were simply less common divisions in a fleet focused on an enemy that could only be fought and defeated from an extreme distance.

Still, the difference was palpable.

Their native camouflage slicked through their translucent combat suits, causing them to blend into the surrounding scenery in such a way that even as Hico watched, could cause her to occasionally overlook them. They were wary as they walked. Presenting an posture of caution: not pride or confidence.

If soldiers like this were nervous, Hico knew she should be, too.

Still, she followed them, dropping down to the plaza below, the marveled at the strange beauty that still permeated the ancient architecture. This must have been something spectacular thousands of cycles before, but exactly how far back its history went was a mystery, some still had the faint markings of symbols carved along their edges, or held within the tainted glass. Old means of passage indication, before the Union focused on the holographic projects for a majority of indicators.

Her thoughts stopped, as she picked up movement, ahead.

A long straight-away: there, two figures sprinting down the alien sands toward the fleeting sunlight. The Ship-beast was leading the path, and the Siren Shipmaster was following, with tiny puffs of dust kicking up with each of their hurried steps.

"Stop! That's an order!" Easily two hundred units away, the Oxots didn't hesitate. As soon as they had the Siren in their sights, the soldiers had opened fire with a rapid barrage.

Even with the atmospheric composition, and the increased gravity, their shots were accurate, hitting the fleeing individual with staggering blows, which popped what seemed to be a personal shielding unit in an instant, and threw the Siren to the dirt.

It was quick, effective, and non-lethal: relying on the shock of impact to incapacitate the Siren Ship-master before she commanded her guardian to act.

As they approached, though, the beast was unaffected by its master's fall, and had doubled back to block their path. Though it had a long blade slung over its back, it didn't bother to use the weapon, or even acknowledge it had one as it raised its upper limbs in a wide gesture

Hico was perplexed by this behavior. Perhaps it was some panicked order issued at the last second, or a practiced fail-safe command. Siren weren't very common in military duty, but she had heard rumors of bonded beasts, and the tremendous control some could exert.

Still it was uncanny, the resemblance...

Her contemplation was interrupted by a shower of blood, which covering her shell. The gurgling scream of a dying soul rattled through the air, with a final plea for help.

Black vines were sprouting up from the shadows, and they had tangled up the unfortunate soldier. The rapid sounds of light-rounds dispersing ripped through the air, as puffs of the tendrils were blasted back, but more sprouted in their place. Two reappearing for every single one destroyed.

Ruthlessly they pulled the Oxot apart, ripping his body to shreds as they yanked him down into the soil, with new coils of black already reaching towards her.

"Back!" Rukkali's spear flashed out with a roar of anger, as more shots began to blast back past her from the soldiers. One of which, glanced her shell and sent her reeling to the ground with nausea. It had hit her in the head, and her vision was now unsteady.

What was attacking?

The Siren and their beast were over there-

As the shouts and yells and gunfire erupted around her, Hico's mind swam and rounded. It was all she could do to stare at the Ship-beast farther off in the distance, as it picked up the Siren. In the confusion the creature made a break for it. And as they turned the corner in the distance, she heard the voices of panic. One was unmistakably Siren, and the other was... untranslatable, for the most part. Patches of it were in the Siren language, ringing out in solid tones, but infrequently there were patches of another language, shouted in short syllables. They echoed through her brain, rattling around with the pain of the concussion she had more than likely just received.

Slowly she felt herself being dragged, out of the alley, into the sunlight, and away from the black vines of death that still feasted on their lost comrade.

Seven of them had entered the city...

But now there were six.

…

[Yitale]

“What's wrong with you Yitale? Run! You need to run!” The voice shouted from far off, as another figure crashed through a street. Further shots could be heard before a sickening scream brought them to a sudden still. The sensation of grim satisfaction touched her, a far off echo of heightened emotion.

That's what they got for shooting her.

But that's what would happen to her, if she stopped moving.

The human was right, she had to keep on running.

Yitale ducked under a shattering window of thick glass, overrun with desert sand, as she rolled past the long shadow, weaving through the slow growth that had begun to sprout from its strange soil. Her breath was filling her lungs, and leaving so quickly she felt her cells would burst. She knew that she needed to get into the sunlight, but there was too little, speckled shadows of frames and glass were blocking it at every turn.

In the distance, the soft sounds of death crackled and groaned- seething forward to reach out their fibers- like millions of tiny claws.

Movement was key: to keep in motion, that was the only thing besides half glimmers of the sun's influence keeping her alive.

She cursed her luck.

They should have known someone would respond on the surface- the escape pods launching had been anything but subtle. Still, Yitale would have hoped for more time before they were found. They had barely lasted two rotations before the soldiers had shown up.

Those were still behind her, she suspected, but in front of her was a thinning list of options.

More motion, to her left. There was no light there, so she dived into a roll. Her tail curled up past her shoulder as she let the inertia carry her to the next patch of fading sunlight, drawing her weapon to blast aimlessly forward for the threats trying to block her route. Those shots were greeted by the hissing of steam, the cracking of tissue, and another sound as well.

Yitale could almost find herself believing it was a scream of anger.

Back into the light she went.

She desperately needed a rest. Siren were capable athletes when compared to many species, but their limits were simply that. Mentally fortifying herself would not help her if she pushed past them, and she was hugging that line. Ragged low notes of pain sang out, as her breath was caught in her chest as she felt her lungs compress in agony. This city was a maze, a labyrinth. Perfectly designed for torture, for fear, for a horrific game of survival.

“HUAAAAAAAAARRRR-” A yell of agony cut off with such abruptness, Yitale could almost bring the image to her mind. Another soldier had met their end- likely torn apart by the massive grip of a black vine.

She wasn't sure where, but she knew it had been very close.

“Human!” Yitale shouted as she sent her mind outward, probing for the bond. He was still alive, she felt. Unless he had been diverted... unless he was thousands of units from her, and too far for her to sense.

A soft crushing of sand brought her mind back to alert as she threw her side arm towards the direction of the disturbance and fired. In a rapid burst, the light-rounds ringing out in symphony. Then, she was onto another sprint, to the next patch of light- but this one was almost gone. She had to find her way to a street perpendicular to the sunlight: a stretch of true clearance.

She reloaded, before blasted the ground before her as she ran, counting the shots. It was an old habit, that had been beaten into her over years, endless rotations of military training. Count the shots...

It was a pointless exercise in this circumstance. There wasn't a single round left on her to reload with, now. Those in the weapon already were all she had.

Then, something had her.

She screamed a note of terror as she was pulled of her feet, and dragged at a rapid pace away from her original route. Her hands grasped desperately at the firm hold around her waist, lashing out with her tail.

“Calm down, Yitale. You need to stay calm” It was an arm, not a vine.

She realized she was in the sunlight.

“It's me." The human muttered. "We're safe. There's only a few more blocks to go.”

“We're not safe. I know that, and you know that. We're not safe.” Her breathing leveled as she rose back to her feet, smacking the ground with her tail in frustration. “First those soldiers, now- This thing! I'm not even certain what it is!"

"It's nothing to worry about." The human grumbled, setting her down. "We'll get past."

"Is it some biological experiment? An ancient security system?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter."

His body language almost appeared relaxed as he pointed. Two more stretches of shadowed ground lay before them and the empty desert. It was in plain sight, along the straightaway, a length of ancient road.

“We're almost there.” He let out a heavy exhalation as he slowed his heartbeats in some strange instinctive manner. Perhaps, it was some primal intuition for pushing limits on his body. “We're no [marathon] runners- but this is just a sprint. I'm betting we can make it.”

“What is a [mara... never mind, it doesn't matter. We're not making that, human. It's at least eighty units of distance, and those vines know we're here. They'll cut off our route the second we cross them, and we'll be dragged down.”

“For the record, a [marathon] is a [26 mile run], Yitale.” The man threw the sword into its sheath on his back, as he turned back to her. “But like I said: this is a sprint.”

She felt his intention as soon as he turned to her, but she wasn't quick enough to get away.

He was insane.

His mind was a flood of images, calculations he didn't even appear to be aware of occurring, estimations of tactics on the fly. By the time she had thought to flee, Yitale found herself captured, thrown over a thick shoulder, traveling faster than any being should without a vehicle. Any other survivors still alive heard the scream of rage and horror that echoed through the ancient streets and desert sand.

“You [son of a] Fracking [fucking shit]!”