"this would be halfway interesting and funny if the whole fake cybersex thing wasn't so played out already."
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| Death's Embrace: Chapter 3 | | | Author: | | | IP: | slip-32-XXXX | | Date: | 06/16/00 07:06 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 7, Min: 7
Lifetime Rating for ScreamStalker: 7.5385 |  | Welcome back yet again to a ScreamStalker fiction. If you haven’t had a chance to view my other works, you can by clicking the link below. Anyway, enjoy.
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Death’s Embrace: Chapter 3
“Now”, said my host after I had seated myself on his comfortable couch, “Let me introduce myself. My name is Jackson Hauler.” At the sound of his name I instantly realized who I was face to face with. Colonel Hauler was the commander of the enigmatic Nova Squadron. The expression on my face must have betrayed my surprise at being contacted by such an important militarist, for the Colonel smiled in pride and nodded his head.
“Well, I see you have heard of me. I am not surprised, my actions are often debated on publicly in beginner’s training classes.” I nodded my head in agreement. I could recall quite well that we had been lectured on the Nova Squadron and their methods of carrying out certain tasks. Hauler continued. “What you are about to hear goes entirely against all the lectures and criticism you have ever heard about my Nova Squadron. I did not particularly want to share with you this information, but I feel in necessary for you to understand the underlying causes when I ask of your assistance. Understand?”
Again I nodded my head. This was all flying by very fast, and I felt certain I did not know what I was getting myself into. I was entirely correct. The Colonel resumed his speech. “The Nova Squadron was created for one purpose, reconnaissance. Our job was to penetrate the defenses of pirate militias, and gain information on their courses of action. We performed these assignments flawlessly, leading to the destruction of several rogue armies from within. Along the way, the Nova scientists began developing ingenious creations, devices that set us ahead of every other department in terms of espionage. Other Confederacy bands discovered this, but instead of standardizing our equipment, hired our troops to perform illegal tasks. They wanted to blackmail other Squadrons. This was all before the Great Wars began. Do you follow so far?”
Slowly, I muttered my barely perceptible agreement. All of this information was new to me at the time, as it had never even been covered in our basic information classes. “Anyway,” Hauler said, returning to his tale. “Our operators were not to be denied the extreme amounts of money being offered to them, and readily accepted these assignments. Before you knew it, every Squadron was accusing every other Squadron of theft, larceny, vandalism, and just about every illegal act in the book. And at a time when our forces most needed to come together! Slowly, the ripples were smoothed out. A new leader in the Confederate government was able to change and rectify most of the wrongdoings. And over a small amount of time, the heads of the once corrupted Squadrons were removed and replaced with fresh ambitious Commanders, myself being one of them.”
Hauler chose this moment to break from his monologue, and sip from a crystal clear water glass on his desk. It was then I noticed that the two men had disappeared from the room, leaving myself and the Commander alone. I began to dwell on that thought, but was interrupted as Hauler once again resumed his talking. “All the old leaders were removed, except one. Minister Jorgensen of the Umojan Protectorate retained his position, claiming he had nothing to do with any aspects of the conspiracy. He would have been proven wrong of course, but our outlying colonies were under siege by the Zerg at that time, and the case was dropped. This is where you come in. I need you to assassinate Jorgensen. One of my best espionage agents stumbled across a secret plan of the Protectorate’s to overthrow several of the more powerful Squadrons, by revealing a case that has never before been exposed to officials or the public. He was able to relay the information directly to me only minutes before he was shot down by a soldier, apparently in self defense. Obviously he was killed because Jogensen had discovered what the agent had unraveled. Myself and several others would benefit extremely by having the Minister removed as soon as possible.”
My mind was already searching the possibilities even before Hauler paused. I had killed several aliens, and thought nothing of it. I had fought against my own race in dozens of simulation battles, but to murder a fellow man in cold blood? My physical body needed some time to think about that, about the consequences and repercussions, but I already knew in the depths of my brain that I would accept the assignment regardless. But first I needed to ask some questions.
“Why me,” were the first words out of my mouth. The Commander grinned wickedly. “I have been studying your skills for the past several months, and have concluded them unsurpassable by any other of your kind. Even though you seem to have only a minimal amount of training, you fight like a seasoned warrior. Dodging the impossible, defeating enemies which should have killed you many times over. You seem to possess a cunning instinct and an almost animal like brutality which I have seen in very few recruits.”
“How?” I asked. Again, the Commander smiled. “I was hoping you would ask that.” He then pushed a small chrome button on the far right corner of his desk, a button that could be easily missed because of its perfect camouflage. A center wall panel behind the great chrome furniture slid back, revealing a standard hostile environment suit. “Normally,” the bearded man continued as he rose from his sitting position to stand next to his prize. “We reserve these suits for those who epitomize the Nordic man. Having perfect endurance and strength, as well as being endowed with psychic powers. But this is no ordinary ghost suit.”
He then removed the helmet from its position atop the mannequins head. “This helmet has the ocular implant installed right into its micro processing chip. Allowing the wearer to see farther then most animals. It also has a special adjustment, that makes even cloaked units visible.” Hauler replaced the helmet, and diverted my attention to the black suit. “The suit is insulated against all temperature conditions. And will remain at whatever degree it is set at. It has been fitted with the standard cloaking device, but the micro reactor that runs the device has been supercharged, allowing the user to remain cloaked longer then ever before.”
He then picked up one of the boots from the floor panel of the display case. “The boots fit any shoe size possible.” He said. “And a have a small turbo engine installed in the heel, providing the needed speed burst in desperate situations.” As the Colonel replaced the boot, I noticed that the suit was void of the large cumbersome backpack that standard ghosts use while on the battle ground. I also did not see the 25mm C-10 Canister rifle most intelligence agents used as their primary weapon.
“What I am proposing,” Hauler said, “Is for you to sneak into the main military base of the Protectorate. That base is located on planet Kiershlack. Most commonly known as: the Lost Temple. You are to penetrate the defense of the encampment and locate Minister Jorgensen’s quarters. He very rarely leaves that base, and I happen to know for a fact that he will not be doing any travel for the next month or so. Assassinate him, and get out. If you succeed, you will be rewarded in the highest honor. Money, prestige, popularity, all will be yours at the ring of a bell. If you fail, you are on your own. No knowledge of your assignment will be condoned in this Squadron.”
I resumed my seat on the couch, and remained silent for long moments. I wasn’t worried about sneaking into the base, or sneaking out. I had come to terms with the fact that I would be killing another man who had no defense. I was more concerned about the underlying causes of the Colonel’s request. What had the Protectorate discovered? What deal had been made that was so horrible that even man of such power was willing to risk an attempt on a fellow Commander’s life? Of course, I had nothing else to do.
“I’ll do it.” I said. “What am I to use for the job?” I asked the question simply out of curiosity, I knew already what I would use when the time came. The Commander returned to his desk, and reached underneath the top of it. I assumed he pushed another button, because the right wall panel besides the suit slid back, revealing a huge selection of artillery. “Whatever you want.” Came the reply. “I have the most current and effective weapons in stock, and you may choose as to which you will harness in your quest.”
Rising once again from my seat, I peered at the wall of weapons. Rifles, guns, lasers, bombs, grenades, and even a rocket launcher were fastened to the giant display. After looking at all the weapons with minimal interest, I chose a small black handgun. An inquisitive look came across my employer’s face. “A Glock 310. A fine choice, but are you sure that’s all you will need?” I quickly nodded, and stepped back as Hauler removed the gun from its fastenings. “I will send this, as well as the suit and ammunition to your hostile tomorrow morning. From there you will take a direct transport to Kiershlack at approximately 8:00 AM. Luke here…” He motioned toward the back of the room, and I turned, realizing that the bodyguards had been in the room all along. As I stared in amazement, the one on the left stepped forward a few paces, distinguishing himself as the one the Commander called Luke. “…will return you to your hotel tonight, and will also pick you up in the morning, giving you a ride to where you will depart. Good luck my friend. Once you have finished your task return here, and you will be rewarded.”
I turned to leave, but couldn’t resist the urge to voice my last nagging doubt.“What is this place?” I inquired. A small smile crossed Hauler’s lips. “All Squadron Commanders are required to have a number of secret offices to which they can flee in case of an emergency. This happens to be one of mine, only I extend its uses.” Nodding my head in agreement, I turned, and followed the guard out the door.
Luke took me back the way we had come, driving the Vulture at high speeds through the darkened streets of Tiar, until we at last came to a stop in front of my quarters. Bidding him goodnight, I received the reply that he would return early the next morning for my pickup. The cycle then roared to life and sped off into the distance.
As I was left alone in the lobby, I realized how incredibly exhausted I was. The night’s occurrences had not been normal, and had taken a heavy toll on my stamina. With droopy eyelids, I returned to my hotel room. But I could not fall into the subconscious world just yet, for I still had one more chore to do. Extracting a suit case from underneath my lavish bed, I rummaged through its contents, and finally found what I was looking for.
Pyre gleamed brightly that night. It had been so long since I had used the magical blade, so long since I had grasped its bone handle and felt the power rush through my veins. For the next half hour I was content to sit on floor, cradling my weapon, polishing it even though it was not tarnished. When I eventually regained control of myself, I strapped the sheath to my bare leg, and replaced the blade, promising it that death would come soon.
ScreamStalker
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