A finger pressed lightly to the side of an advanced helmet, belonging at one point to the advanced regiment, of Cleric Shock troopers. The man viewing the outside world through this helmet, watched as his view shifted from what would be considered normal, to something much farther away. The magnification on this model of helmet only went up to four times the normal limits of human visions. However it didn't make the whole ordeal any less disorienting, granted the man in question was certainly more used to it than most. Though in the dark of night, he couldn't see much from his rooftop perch, without a further amount of assistance from this helmet.
Once again a soft click could be heard, and the soldier's vision was flooded with green. Calmly he waited for the sensors to adjust, and calibrate to view everything properly in this form of vision. Once things were sorted out, he looked at the scene down below, viewing it all from a perch about three stories up. The mess of a major battle, bodies strewn about in Cleric armor, and FEARLESS uniforms. Though dead bodies weren't the only thing present. Cars, wrecked and strewn about. Piles of rubble, broken glass, and more from explosions, and bullets. The signs of a lost rocket launcher, and nearby, the dead body of the wielder. Obviously quite a massive man, perhaps the biggest soldier on the field. A grenade launcher abandon in the streets, with a belt of shells. Rifles from both sides strewn across the floor, some with nearby wielders that had fallen using them. Others that seemed to have been disregarded in the fight. Some possibly still loaded.
Bullet casings were perhaps the most common sight. They ranged in a variety of sizes, from the underwhelming .32 ACP, all the way up to the shells of 50.cal machine gun. Though the majority of those casings, seemed to be surrounding a fallen guard tower. A pile, telling a story, of a gunner who had been blasting into the crowded streets below to kill anyone hiding behind cover, and the vehicles. Before a massive soldier, with a launcher blasted him from his hole. Completely destroying his body, leaving only a collapsed tower to remember him by. A body riddled with holes, sitting near an abandon, and no longer running supply truck, told the tale of someone that had been used as a shield. The amount of gunshots in him, would be unbelievable under any other circumstance.
A small line of bodies were visible with the soldiers zoomed in helmet. He looked at them curiously. A sigh leaving his lips as her recognized more of the dead squad, due to their unique uniforms, and weapons. In particular, the dead NOAH, who seemed the most beat up before his failure. A scream permanently etched on his face, Netrunner would always be twisted like that. Screaming for help for an eternity, but receiving nothing but a cold shoulder.
Further the soldier examined the battlefield, noting the obvious routes of escape. A trail of bodies, with a variety of wounds. Ranging from bullets, blades, and even a brick that had shattered a helmet's visor clean open. Whoever had done that deed, was obviously quite enraged, perhaps it was the soldier with the rocket launcher down below. He seemed big and strong. Or perhaps it was one of the other ones that had escaped.
Whatever the case, the soldier could only analyze the battlefield for so long. A sigh leaving his lips, under his heavy helmet. He tapped the button to force his helmet to return to normal magnification, and looked around. It was the beginning of night fall, and finally he saw the convoy rolling in to clean this mess up. It was a small team, perhaps a single APC, with a few smaller, standard transports. A platoon size element at the largest. They were little more than soldiers really, just standard Clerics, with assault rifles, maybe even a light machine gun for every few squads worth of men. Expendable, they were considered expendable at best by New Ecclesia.
Pressing another button on his helmet, the soldier spoke to the command for this mission, just a single SERAPHIM that was considered his handler, "This is Crusader. What is my objective? What am I recovering?" He asked, before releasing the button, to allow the other person to respond to him. As he awaited his response, the soldier had begun to screw suppressors unto his two pistols. Securing them onto the weapons, before they returned to the holsters on his hip. Along with his pistols, his large, battle rifle, a SCAR-H, found a suppressor on its barrel. The magazine also being changed from Armor Piercing rounds, to subsonic ammunition.
Crusader soon received his orders, "Recover, the deceased NOAH Ji Yun, and Auratta. No need to let the enemy regain their genetic material, and the burial will help ease the pain of some." The soft voice of a female SERAPHIM explained, giving the man in the suit of armor his objective. It was meant to be a simple recovery mission. But the addition of clerics was going to complicate matters much, much further than intended.
So Crusader watched the New Ecclesian clerics come to a stop, just on the outskirts of the now silent battlefield. The majority began to dismount from their various vehicles. Already starting to spread out, to cover as much ground as possible. Which left them singled out, and easy targets. A small grin formed under Crusader's helmet, these bastards really did make his job too easy sometimes, when they spread out like this, he could just pick them off one by one, long before they could react. The only downside seemed to be he couldn't use explosives.
Granted, Crusader had a problem, a rather small one, but one he would inevitably have to deal with. The APC was still fully crewed, as the turret rotated in sweeping scans. The massive floodlight mostly betraying whatever hid in the alleyways, and the nooks and crannies of this part of the city. Homeless people scattered, the sound of groans, and feet pattering to get away from the bright, and intrusive light. Thankfully the massive light, wasn't able to extend far enough to hit the soldiers walking among the ruins of the battlefield. That was on purpose, mostly to give them the cover of night, and the advantage of only having to use a single flashlight, or if they were lucky their own night vision to sort things out.
Crusader took up a sprint, hopping to a building of nearly the same height. Using the sounds of the city to mask his approach. He had decided that the APC would be the first on his agenda of things to deal with. His hands caught onto a metal fire escape, his fairly muscular frame pulling himself, and his suit of armor up. Ascending the stairs as quickly as he could, he was once against atop another small three story building. A large sign, reading out as Cafe giving him some cover as he kept moving. It seemed nearly destroyed, beyond the basic shape of the letters. Though as he ran, one letter seemed ready to fall free, the bolts, and the metal frame creaking quite loudly. Alerting a few Clerics below to clear the area, and wait for the structure to settle.
Though his sprint ended quickly after he reached the other side of the cafe building. The armored soldier found a ladder, and descended as quickly as he could. Hoping once more to let the sounds of the night time city mask his descent. And so the man in the black suit of armor, took off down the sidewalk. hugging the shadows of the blacked out street. It seemed as though power had been entirely shut down on this block. Once more, likely on purpose to give the Clerics as many advantages against the lesser geared, and not exceptionally well trained RONIN of FEARLESS. Perhaps a smart idea, but also perhaps an idiotic one. Though with much of FEARLESS currently licking their wounds, and celebrating at the Afterlife, Crusader knew well that there would be no reason to expect an attack.
Crusader found himself darting to hide behind a nearby car. Catching his breath as he pressed himself as close to the ground as he possibly could. He held himself there, turning his helmet's night vision off just seconds before, a blinding light swept over his head. The man wasn't noticed, but it took him some time to adjust his eyes again. His helmet once more finding it's night vision turned on. Understanding his position, he was very close to the APC. Now he had to move slower, with a more methodical, and calculating pattern.
Each step now had to be thought out, with the smallest mistake risking blowing his cover. With a 30mm cannon in play, the man wasn't about to risk triggering any alarms. So each step was taken with grace. Moving between abandon vehicles, trashcans, mailboxes, and anything solid, and large enough to hide him from view. The sound of two New Ecclesian Clerics conversing finally picked up on his ears. Crusader didn't consider this terribly odd, lookouts, just guards meant to wait outside the APC for anything suspicious. They door to the APC was closed, and this whole operation seemed relaxed as anything as easy as a cleanup might be.
"This is bullshit John. We should be on leave right now, enjoying drinks, and pussy at some bar in the high end part of town! And instead our whole team gets sent out on this bullshit? Come on, we're an APC crew, they have like, a thousand other guys that do this job!" One of the pair bitched, rambling on about how much of a pain this job was. How little gratification it gave, and how the pay was just barely above that of a normal Cleric.
The other shrugged in the darkness, lazily pulling his helmet off, and getting a cigarette out with his other hand. His rifle was leaned up against the APC, not ready for use at all. leaving him entirely exposed, "Yeah man, this is stupid. But we're getting paid overtime, so quit whining. Anyway, Lance, I'm gonna go get someone from inside to trade me places. I've been standing all day." The other guard explained as he laid his hand against the release button on the back door.
Crusader saw his chance now. The rebel quickly raised his rifle, as the door began to open. The heavy hydraulics hissing, as the door lowered itself slowly, so as to avoid unnecessary stress, and damage. The noise itself was appreciated, as he snapped onto the Cleric without a helmet. Blasting him with a single, suppressed shot of his SCAR-H. Brains, and skull splattering across the back door, as it opened. The man quickly altered targets, looking at the dumbfounded Cleric, that fumbled with his rifle. Two shots, and he fell to the ground as well, lifeless, his rifle clattering just before the door finished opening.
His suppressed rifle wasn't absolutely silent, but with the additional noise nothing would seem that out of place, with that in mind Crusader jogged forward, and started to ascend the ramp into the small APC. The sound of another soldier calling out to him, "Yeah, yeah John, I know. It's my turn...let me get out of the gunners seat-Who the hell are you? Shock troopers aren't on this mission I thought." The surprised soldier said, as he pulled himself out of the gunner's seat.
Crusader grinned, as he gave the soldier just long enough to realize how much nonstandard equipment he had on his body. "Oh dear me, we're not on this mission. But FEARLESS is sweetheart. I'm Alexander, pleasure to meet you...put that gun down...oh you're not listening." He grinned, as he lunged forward, tossing his rifle aside, and pulling out Invictus. His foot having kicked the button to the close the door before he ran at the APC crewman. This was now a killing box, and for Crusader it was his personal playground. The roar of Invictus in such a tight space was almost deafening. The addition of gunfire, didn't make things any quieter either. Bullets ricocheted off his armor, they were much too low caliber to have any effect on the shock trooper armor.
Though as the slaughter began, Alexander found himself quite happy he did have some hearing protection built inside of his helmet. Especially when his roaring chainsword found purchase in the first soldier, cutting diagonally in, from shoulder to the middle of his waist, spraying his blood across the cabin, among other things onto the two panicking soldiers up front. The screaming as well was brutal, the sound someone made when they were being cut from the shoulder, down was truly horrific. The soldiers up front tried to fumble for the radio to call for help. However A suppressed pistol shot ended the driver who valiantly made the attempt, Crusader was quick with his weapons at this point, years of training having done that to him. The other man, who was fumbling for a gun, quickly found out the hard way Invictus could tear through seats, and the blade grabbed hold of him. The roaring chainsaw sword tore a hole through his spine, and out his chest. Leaving his heart little more than a mess of pulp, and his lungs splattered onto the controls. Bones even found themselves displaced from his torso, the brute force of such a weapon, having sent a few chunks of ribs around the cabin.
"APC check in." Came a voice over the radio. Crusader didn't hesitate to settle his chainsword down. Letting the blade come to a stop, before he reached for the radio. Sheathing the terrifying weapon on his back where it belonged, the man picked up the radio, and clicked it on. His free hand wiping the blood off of his visor.
"This is Lance. All clear over here. APC has found nothing, over." Alexander remarked over the radio, using one of the soldiers names to keep things sounding real, shortly after he received confirmation from the ground team. Withdrawing from the cabin, the door opened with another hiss. Grabbing up one of the crewman's uniforms from outside, Alexander used the cloth to wipe his helmet fully clean, along with as much of his torso, and arms as he could manage. Certainly he couldn't clean everything off, but whatever he could get off would be beneficial.
After this mess he had left the APC a mess, a box of blood, gore, and a handful of bullet casings. The bullets he had left before a reload were marked on his HUD on the inside of his helmet. Seventeen in the magazine of his SCAR-H, and fourteen in one of his pistols. All things considered it would be plenty if he didn't waste too many by taking extra shots. Most kills should have been completed in a single round, wasting two on just one guard seemed silly to him. Luckily his little side track to slaughter the APC crew hadn't drawn any attention. That was perhaps the best thing about having enclosed spaced. They absorbed sound so well, the outside world barely even knew anything had changed.
Granted it was more than likely soon, the APC would be called on again, and no response would be given. Alexander could only hope the guards would pass it off as a lazy crew. Brewing more aggravation among some soldiers, to put them off their guard further. Something to help them lose focus, so he could freely move about and complete his task at his own pace. The rifle in Crusader's hand seemed plenty ready for another kill, as he crept back into the shadows. Now it was a simple game of singling out soldiers, and finding his objective. With a tap of his helmet, his night vision was once more turned on, and his game of hunter against prey had resumed.
Quietly as he could manage, Alexander crept back to the area the clerics were sweeping. He had a good lead on where Ji Yun might be. Inside the base, dead near several other RONIN. He wouldn't be too hard to find due to his odd choices in attire, and the fact he used Yo-yo's as a weapon. So really finding his body, while a sad task, was one that would be very easy.
Approaching the back of the pack, soldiers were spread about this area like rats. Picking through the rubble, pushing dead bodies over to identify them and occasionally taking things they decided were worth anything of value. But the problem with this scavenger mentality, and looking for survivors, meant this platoon was at the closest, still twenty to thirty feet apart. An open field, that seemed almost an entire collection of weak links separated from their packs. He was like a lion, among gazelles, able to strike quietly, without much repercussion.
A knife found its way out of one of the many sheaths on his body, along with a pistol. Crusader knew quite well he could easily disable most soldiers with a shot to the neck, or a blade rammed there as well. That was perhaps the greatest weakness of cleric armor, beyond firing excessively powerful rounds at the soldiers helmets, or body. In the dark of night, with his vision shaded green, enemies marked in seconds by his helmets Identify Foe system. The first soldier in his vision was only fifteen feet away, pushing the body of the rocket launcher wielding soldier. "Big bastard...blew up the tower didn't you rebel scum? How'd that wo-" The guard's rambling was cut short, as a blade was rammed through the back of his neck, and all the way out the front. Blood spurted freely, and the blade twisted slightly, before being removed. In seconds he would bleed out, or drown from the blood filling his lungs. It was quite a quiet way to die.
Crusader as per the normal procedure he chose to abide by, was gentle in setting the body the down, laying it to rest near a parked car. Before moving on he grabbed the launcher, and the few shells for it, slinging them over his back. It was extra weight, but it was also an invaluable weapon to FEARLESS. They didn't have many things this powerful, so any sort of explosive, especially something that could be launched, was graciously accepted. Granted it wasn't his primary mission.
Moving forward, Alexander chose to cut a path to Ji Yun. A vengeance filled path of anger, to avenge the lives of all the fallen soldiers of FEARLESS here today. He settled on only using his knife, and a single pistol for now. He stalked upon his next prey. Two guards, twenty feet apart, but talking to one another. Once more Crusader pounced. His knife buried itself into the front of a soldier's throat, who had turned to face him just as he took off bounding. The blade wasn't pulled back, but rather sliced downward, and out to the left. Cutting clean through flesh and muscle. The head of the soldier lazily lolling off to one side, held only by blood, and half a neck worth of flesh and sinew.
Collapsing to the ground, Alexander quickly took aim with his pistol, before the other soldier could scream for help. And blasted two rounds into his neck with his pistol. The round caught the Cleric's words right in his throat. As he collapsed, grasping as his neck, and writing around. Crusader came over, and kicked the soldier's helmet off with a black leather boot, before tapping on the trigger of his pistol two more times. The rounds putting a clean pair of holes in the cleric's skull, finishing the job quickly and cleanly.
Once more, the Ronin was stalking his way to the body of Ji Yun. Now having switched back to his SCAR-H. Deciding perhaps it would be better to rely on firepower, over a small window of opportunity to shoot the Clerics. Certainly the rifle was more risk due to the sound, but the subsonic ammunition would hopefully be quiet enough to not draw too much attention. After all, this was a clean up team, their job was to put down survivors, from both sides that couldn't be saved by medical treatment.
Crusader began to pick of soldiers in his way from ten to twenty yards away at most. His rifle ripping through helmets with relative ease, as he was aware the helmets didn't have nearly as much protection as the body armor. The Ronin continued his slaughter, albeit more relaxed, as ten more rounds were used to drop a handful of clerics. Sending shards of the visors, the soldiers skulls, brains, and any other part of their head onto the ground. The soft crunch of bone, and glass under Crusader's feet as he walked by, making sure each soldier he shot, was absolutely beyond a doubt dead.
Crusader soon worked his way to the body of Netrunner, young Ji Yun. He was pummeled by a Paladin from what the stories said. The young Ronin picked the NOAH up, and carried him away. The slaughter that had ensued here tonight was plenty of extra payback. Alexander had at least another fifteen tally marks to add to his armor. Though he had stopped counting after that. He returned to the APC, setting Ji Yun's body down in a seat, and strapping it in. The Rocket Launcher also was left there next to him.
Taking care in the work, he patiently ripped out any sort of tracking devices, and began to remove the dead bodies of the clerics he had slaughtered early on. Planning to use his vehicle as a safe way to transport his two targets. Plus an APC was always a welcomed addition to FEARLESS, more firepower, meant they could actually do more damage on missions, and since the vehicle had little to no cost of FEARLESS lives, or resources, it was well worth it.
Tossing the first two halves of a body out the back, the upper torso, and the legs landed with a thud. The APC driver that was shot clean through the skull came next, much heavier, he was set down on the ground. Finally Alexander got rid of the man he had rammed a chainsword through. Ignoring his own brutal work, he left the man on the ground among his dead comrades. Five minutes wasted, but that wasn't important. Alexander had completed an extra, unwanted, but obviously needed objective. Besides, twenty, to thirty soldiers couldn't hope to get into their vehicles, and actively pursue an APC in time. Especially not if the APC totaled them with weight alone.
Wasting a bit more time, Alexander used the medical kits in the APC to try and clean everything up. Mostly wiping blood off the windows and controls with lumps of bandages he had. Before he tossed everything aside, and got behind the wheel of the APC. The engine roared to life again, the sound of the radio receiving multiple transmissions was rather amusing as well. Asking why the APC was turned on, worrying about an attack, and many other complaints lobbed from the surviving soldiers. Crusader couldn't care really, as he turned the Armored personnel carrier around, and started driving.
On the way, he made sure to use the suspension to climb over, and crush several small transports. And stopped to ram over a large truck with engine power and weight. Tipping the beast over, with a satisfying crash. With that in mind, Alexander then sped off to his next objective. Auratta's body, a shame they had lost both NOAH today. They were the resistance's trump card, a way to win against impossible odds. Shame they mostly were squishy, and died easily like humans. Sadly Alexander was now working against a clock, it was obvious the situation was going to be reported. Luckily for him, he did have a radio to listen in to the chatter, and calculate his behavior, movements, and so on.
Always cold and calculating, Alexander smiled as he pulled up the next warzone...a parking garage. This entire place was truly a mess. Though what that meant wasn't entirely important, as he knew where he needed to be. The APC drove to the same floor that possessed the body of Auratta, before stopping, the engine was left running though, this was going to be much quicker than Ji Yun's recovery.
Mostly because a cleanup team hadn't been sent here yet, more than likely the team he had acquired this now blood splattered APC from, was supposed to finish at the ruined base, and then come here. "Guess they won't be doing that tonight. I'm the recovery and clean up team now." Crusader muttered to himself with a chuckle, as he jogged toward the body of Auratta. Ignoring the wounds, she'd faced the wrath of an assassin...just like himself, cruel, but able to extinguish life with precision.
Grunting, the body was tossed over his shoulder, and carried to the APC, before being set down in a seat across from Ji Yun, and strapped in tight. The gas pedal was pressed to the floor, and flew off into the night, leaving the parking garage behind, as it drove about.
Choosing to waste around an hour or so, Alexander simply was making his trail nearly impossible to follow, as he was instructed to do. Before he finally broke radio silence with his handler, as he so called her, "Package secured. Inform the garage I brought a third APC, this one isn't damaged...aside from blood everywhere, and the passenger seat is ripped to hell."
"What the hell did you do...to splatter the inside? You didn't use that stupid sword did you?"
"Well about that...I did. Long story, someone got split down the middle, and other was rammed through the spine. I got caught in the moment, you know how that is, right?" Alexander asked, chuckling to himself as he heard the woman on the end gag with disgust, at the brutal imagery he had described. In his book injury and maiming wasn't allowed...however brutal, and wanton slaughter was fine. Certainly an odd standard, but one many grew to respect, especially since he was so good at it.
The vehicle pulled up to the garage door, and was ushered in. Alexander picked up the two bodies, the two NOAH being quite light, and small...especially in death, with missing parts, and plenty of blood having disappeared. The soldier toted them to the area where they would be cleaned up, and prepared for a ceremony to honor their death. It was a Morale move by command, something to help everyone mourn, since most every other body was nearly impossible to recover by appearance.
Alexander left the blood soaked APC to the mechanics to clean up. Toting the rocket launcher on his back once more, the soldier entered the armory down the hall. Setting the launcher aside where it belonged, with the shells. He didn't know who it had belonged to before, beyond that person being a giant of a man, who died holding it. So to him it meant very little, beyond another tool for killing. Yet the man assumed perhaps one person would know who it belonged to, and would take great joy in seeing it returned, or perhaps great anger.
Leaving the armory now, Alexander took his helmet off, and returned to his part of the barracks further down the hall. The heavy armor fell with loud thuds as it hit the ground, the steel rattling, and even bouncing a bit, as it was all taken off. Before being carefully organized into the massive case that held each piece. The body suit came off next, the skin tight material being peeled off his sweating flesh, the tense nature of combat always left the body running on adrenaline and excitement.
A towel was wrapped around his waist, and over one of his arms, the a rather nice looking gray suit, with a red tie, and a white button up shirt. Along with a clean set of black shoes that were held in his other. Alexander decided it best to clean up before he went to his job as a bartender. Unlike other members of FEARLESS, he didn't feel he had earned the time to sit and bathe in a tub. Instead he let himself stand under a hot shower, for a few minutes.
Drying off only about ten minutes later, the bartender now fixed his hair, and donned his other suit. A formal suit, with a currently silver cross on the right half of his chest. Glasses were put over his eyes, they weren't corrective, rather just for show and style. From soldier to the bartender of the Afterlife in less than twenty minutes. A routine that Alexander was so used to, it barely phased him, as he finished brushing his hair. Smiling a bit as he looked at the image, someone who only minutes earlier was covered in a suit with blood and metal. A glowing red triangle the only sign that he was even alive.
Tonight was the night for Alexander to help cheer up the many mourning soldiers of FEARLESS...and it was also a night for him to bring out his own special project. The young man grabbed his laptop after he finished getting dressed, and a small disc, that would project an image. He hurriedly rushed to the bar, and happily perched himself up in his usual spot, smiling at the customers...all soldiers like himself.
Opening the laptop, and connecting the disc, the man pressed a few keys, and clicked on a program. While it booted up, the program itself quite complex and taking forever to load, Alexander began taking orders. Happily mixing anything asked of him, or just pouring out whatever brand of beer was demanded. This was perhaps his favorite part of the evening, serving his friends, bringing them joy, or just easing the sorrow. It was more rewarding than one could imagine.
With a soft beep, the computer finished booting up the program. A small image, blue in color, appeared. A young girl in a dress, sleepily rubbing her eyes. The young bartender smiled, and waved to her. This was among her very few outings, but it was meant to help the program develop a personality, by learning from other people in the bar. Alexander carefully picked up the disk, and set it on the top of the bar. He smiled as the program seemed to go wide eyed at all the activity. "Don't worry, just watch and learn. You can talk if you like too...just don't work too hard, alright?" Alexander asked, receiving a nod from the small projection of the girl. He could only hope this outing would at least make her more talkative, and less shy. He needed something reliable, if he was going to replace his current, silent, and very basic A.I within his helmet. "And try not to learn any swear words. These folks have had a long day, so what they say is from being tired, it's not normal behavior."
With that out of the way, Alexander smiled, awaiting his next order. Adjusting his red tie a little bit. Occasionally pointing to certain groups of people, or directing attention toward certain conversations. If he wasn't mixing a drink, or cleaning a glass. He was directing his young, very new Artificial Intelligence toward whatever he deemed worth paying more attention to. Plus it helped to keep her up and running for longer, before she got tired and decided to shut down. The bartender was always told to be careful with the A.I by the Seraphim scientists. However he got permission to take her out, of her usual controlled test environment for the first time ever! Alexander had been looking forward to this all day, even during his brutal outing, he was still considering how the evening with A.I would go for the first time.
