Author Topic: Black Water  (Read 1812 times)

Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #30 on: 25 May 2024, 23:32:44 »
Justin took a knee in the center of the group, pulled his helmet off, and took a deep drink from his hydration pack. Blinking sweat droplets from his eyes, he glanced at the others. “Hydrate, people.”

      Ken pulled a beer bottle from a pouch and took a swig. “Already on it, sir!”

      “Dude, if CID catches you with a ****** beer at a mockup, we’re all in deep shit. Put that away.”

      “It’s just root beer.”

      Justin laughed. “You’re a dick. Chug it, I’m sticking you on Green Squadron for a stint.”

      Ken’s eyes grew wide, and he immediately shotgunned the root beer. The carbonation brought tears to his eyes, but he finished. “Sorry boss.”

      “Next time, when I say water and any sort of sports drink, bring water and any sort of sports drink. Clear?”

      “Clear.”

      “Alright boys and girls, I’ve worked you harder than an ugly stripper after Christmas, so this was the last run. We’ve tested everything. We’ve thrown every wrench we could think of, any wrench the other Troops could think of, and every stupid decision MIIO could possibly make, and we’re still clearing the facility and taking control of everything in less than two minutes. For a facility of this size, that’s impressive.”

      He paused and removed his sunglasses. “SMEAC is as good as it’s going to get, but we went WARNO – and strange wording on that warning order – to recon and execution quickly, so if you have any issues or concerns, raise them now.”

      Sera shook her head. “I’m not comfortable with MIIO’s planning and targeting priorities. They’re not playing nice with DMI, and we’re getting Eiffel Towered as the new result. I don’t like it.”

      “I don’t like it either,” Justin replied. “I do think it’s just a turf war, and as one of the few other SMUs, we take the…well colorful way you put that.”

      “I knew he had a weakness!” Tom Jenkins called. “‘Colorful’ jokes.”

      Justin turned. “I gave your mom all the coloring she could handle last night. It was like painting the walls of a cave with Twinkie.”

       Jenkins bent over with laughter, and Justin continued.

      “Do we have any other objections, questions or concerns?”

      Nobody said anything.
 
      “So, take the night off – unlike Tom’s mom – and keep it safe. I’m not going long with this. Commander Rollins IS coming with us, by the way. He’s leading the Troop, not me, so best behavior after tonight, ok?”

      “Hooyah,” they answered collectively.

      He nodded and stood up.
« Last Edit: 26 May 2024, 07:48:28 by Katarn04 »

Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #31 on: 27 May 2024, 15:59:48 »
The final plan deviated from the original kicked around by the Frogmen after they received the WARNO – warning order. With a four-level Escape and Evasion Plan, One Troop joining the operation as the blocking force, and a dedicated Rabid Foxes Extraction Team pretending to be Davion Guards Special Forces, Justin barely recognized the thing. He reflected on the changes when he stepped in the shower after his second workout, and he continued that reflection when he sat down on the room’s couch and flicked on the holo. He found nothing worth watching, of course, so he turned it off and pulled a book from the shelf.

      He laid on the couch with the book, a historical fiction piece following a Roman officer stationed in Moesia Superior with Legio VII Paterna during the Crisis of the Third Century, and a glass of twenty year-old Chianti Riserva. The others, he knew, were down at the E Club, the Enlisted Club on post, drinking heavily and enjoying a final night of freedom before the tension and excitement of battle – and the horror – but it was something he never truly enjoyed. Alcohol and SOF troops tended to go hand-in-hand, but Justin had never been a heavy drinker. He rarely dated, too, and saw little need for frivolous, lust-induced dalliances.

      He heard the ringing. He wanted to ignore it, but a quick glance confirmed it was the secure line. Swearing loudly, he picked it up and pressed answer. “Zibler.”

      The metallic voice sounded like something out of a bad spy holo. Instinct kicked in, and he pressed the record button and a trace. The secure line had been clearly hacked.

      “Master Chief Petty Officer Justin Zibler of the Federated Suns Navy: listen carefully. Your operation is compromised. You must abort.”

      The words shocked him, and a well of fear erupted in his gut, but he kept his voice calm. “And who are you? How are calling from the secure line?”

      “That is not the question you should ask. You are compromised. Gold Squadron is not the leak. DMI is not the leak. Abort the mission.”

       “What’s your evidence?”

      The voice hesitated for a single heartbeat.. “You cannot trace this call, so do not try. It is your secure line.”

      You clearly don’t know my sister.

      “I still need evidence. Is it MIIO?”

      “I am trying to help you. You will learn.”

      The line disconnected.

      Justin dialed another line. Margot, touring a base on another continent, answered immediately and formally until she heard his voice. “What’s up?”

      “We’ve got a problem. Hold one. I’m connecting Rollins.”

      He answered as quickly. “J, ma’am; what’s up?”

      “We have a huge ****** problem. This is secure?”

      Margot disappeared from screen for a split second. “Yeah, but not as secure as in person. I can be there in two hours.”

      “Yes, but this can’t wait. We’re compromised.” He played the message, and their faces darkened. Margot asked for a replay, so he did it again.

      “I’m looking Admiral McCampbell in,” she announced, and a moment later, the Admiral’s handsome face appeared. Directly descended from United States Navy Captain David McCampbell, a legendary aviator from the Terran Second World War, the Admiral  had spent his entire career in MRTs. He was the Bullfrog, the highest-ranked and longest tenured Frogman of the Navy, with more bling on his chest that a metallic peacock. Ironically, his ancestor had battled the great founding ancestor of House Kurtia, Admiral Takeo Kurtia, at the Battle of Leyte Gulf, where United States Navy forces crushed Imperial Japanese Navy battle groups in the largest naval battle ever fought. Zibler hoped that spirit remained.

      Margot explained the situation. McCampbell’s face darkened, and Justin felt the officer’s eyes bore into his skull. “Your assessment, Master Chief?”

      “I believe it,” he replied after a moment. “I don’t know who the caller is, but it feels legit, and I don’t want to take the risk.”

     Margot cleared her throat. “I agree with the assessment, Admiral.”

      “And I agree with all of you. Scrub the mission, commander. Get everyone back on base immediately.”

        “Yes sir,” Justin and Rollins replied. They disconnected, and Zibler selected a premade recall order. He sent it as a massed text and leaned back. The responses immediately came in, and he replied with what he could. They gave ETAs and he stood and reached for his wine bottle.

      He felt it, a stillness in the air. Then the metal flashed, and he tasted blood.

     

« Last Edit: 28 May 2024, 07:18:38 by Katarn04 »

worktroll

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #32 on: 27 May 2024, 18:51:50 »
Ironically, his ancestor had battled the great founding ancestor of House Kurtis, Admiral Takeo Kurtis, at the Battle of Leyte Gulf

Autocorrect? :D
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Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #33 on: 27 May 2024, 18:58:43 »

Cannonshop

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #34 on: 27 May 2024, 19:41:49 »
If you're getting mystery phone-calls telling you your mission op is compromised, it is probably compromised-at least, at their level of operations it's probably compromised-someone who shouldn't know about it knows about it, someone who shouldn't be talking has commenced running their yap.
"If you have to ask permission, then it's no longer a Right, it has been turned into a Privilege-something that can be and will be taken from you when convenient."

Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #35 on: 27 May 2024, 20:45:21 »
If you're getting mystery phone-calls telling you your mission op is compromised, it is probably compromised-at least, at their level of operations it's probably compromised-someone who shouldn't know about it knows about it, someone who shouldn't be talking has commenced running their yap.

Exactly Canon! It’s the “oh shit” factor and you should immediately abort.

PsihoKekec

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #36 on: 28 May 2024, 01:12:20 »
       Margot disappeared from screen for a split second. “Yeah, but not as secure as in person. I can be there in two days. I have a jump circuit.”

If she has a jump circut and can be on world in two days, how are they conversing in real time? That was next to impossible before the HPG network went down and completely impossible after the collapse.
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Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #37 on: 28 May 2024, 06:54:08 »
If she has a jump circut and can be on world in two days, how are they conversing in real time? That was next to impossible before the HPG network went down and completely impossible after the collapse.

Dude I COMPLETELY forgot about that. Even with the HPG network intact - and by 3152, there is still no indication that it is intact - or with the black boxes, there is no way that is possible. I’m putting her back on planet.

Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #38 on: 03 June 2024, 23:02:20 »
IV




      She showed nothing on the outside, but internally, she practically laughed with glee as she made a quick, efficient thrust with the tanto. Seeking to drive the blade between his ribs and into his heart and lungs, she barely registered that he had somehow sensed the attack. Only when his muscular left forearm, top out to protect the vital blood vessels under, came between the blade and his torso did she fully understand.

      Blood sprayed from the arm, but his right palm lashed out and smashed her nose the same moment she cut his arm. She tried to bring her elbow up, but he slammed his forehead into her face and drove forward. His left arm, oozing blood, smacked into her groin and his pounded his right knee into her ribs. Her fingers slipped from the tanto, which clattered to the floor. Panic set in. The Davion was big, strong, explosively fast and extremely well-trained and experienced. If he managed to set the plum clinch, he would beat her to death. She had no doubt about that.

      She locked her fingernails into the gash on his arm and twisted. He groaned but snaked his right fist around and punched her in the side of the neck. The shock of the blow stunned her, but she dipped her head and broke from his grasp easily, surprisingly easily.

      Then his left elbow cut upwards and crushed her collarbone. She screamed, but his right palm smacked into her again. She felt a searing pain burn through her right eye, and she ducked again before he could gouge it out. She heard a crack and fell to the floor. Her right foot bent at a weird angle, but she felt no pain. That was a bad sign, but she at least knew the poison she laced her blade with would start to take effect before he could interrogate her.

      The first punch landed the second she hit the floor. She saw red, blood, her blood, gushing from three holes in her chest. The barbarian had drawn his sidearm and shot her as she was falling. Enraged, she raised her head.

      She saw the flash, the fire, and then she saw and felt nothing else.


      Justin fell to his left knee. He placed his pistol on the table and sent a text. ALL PERSONNEL SHELTER IN PLACE. I HAVE BEEN ATTACKED. POISON BLADE.

      It hurt to breathe, and his eyes gradually lost focus and darkness encroached. He felt the rest of his body fall forward. This is how I die? At least that bitch is dead.

      He slipped into the warmth of sleep.

      He felt pain, a sharp prick, in his right shoulder. His lungs suddenly felt as though they had burst into flame. Somehow, his back arched and he sucked air through his nose and mouth. The pain died, and someone rolled him to his side. He vomited hard, but his vision began to clear.

      “You’re alright, J. I had antivenom.”

      Justin laughed. Sera’s voice rang like an angel. “How,” he gasped. “Did you get here? How did you have an antidote?”

       “I didn’t go out, and I’m Pararescue. That others may live. We always have the solution. In this case, it’s a universal antivenom developed in the 21st century.

      He vomited again. It was continuous for almost two minutes, but when it stopped, the powerful, painful cramping in his abdomen and the feelings of paralysis and suffocation subsided. “You saved my life. You said antivenom?”

       “And you saved mine before. It’s what we do. Yeah, antivenom, a universal antivenom developed for neurotoxins in the 21st century. The blade was probably coated in blue-ring octopus venom.”

      A million questions flooded into Justin’s mind, but he held back. They wouldn’t help, and things were still dangerous. He needed to get a line on his people, immediately, but his head still swam. What is going on? Why try to kill us?

      Another thought struck him. He assumed whoever attacked him wanted to kill everyone, but he didn’t know that. This could have been personal.

      Yelling from the hallway caught his attention, and his room door opened suddenly. Ken, wearing a duffle over his shoulders, stumbled in, dragging the body of a much smaller Asian man behind him. The man’s arms bent at weird angles, but the pair of pruning shears jammed through his neck told Justin that the fight was vicious.

      Sera moved to him. “Are you hurt? Did he cut or stab you with anything?”

      He shook his head. “He tried to shoot me. If the cat hadn’t bit my toe at the last minute….”

      “Yeah, well he pissed off the wrong guy. Damn, Ken; pruning shears?”

      “It’s what I had.”

      “And you what, just rushed him after he fired?”

      Ken nodded. “Yeah. I have his piece, too.”

      The frogman carefully placed the duffle on the floor and opened it. Justin handed gloves out. Sera took a seat facing the door, her M42B Carbine over her lap while the two pulled a sophisticated sniper rifle, another tanto, and a needle pistol from the bag.

       Justin whistled. The rifle, sporting a free-floating long rail system and a custom, very expensive scope, appeared to boast a cold-forged, free-floating steel barrel with chrome internal lining and an attached suppressor. “This is aircraft grade aluminum. The upper and lower receivers are precision machined and matched in a way I can’t even explain. It’s in 6.5 Creedmoor. That scope is entirely custom.”

       “This shit is seriously expensive,” Sera said, making a face. “Too expensive for ISF. The ****** Collective dotes on the Samurai MechWarriors, not ISF hit squads unless they’re DEST, who are MechWarriors to begin with.”

      Ken nodded safely. “You know something,” Justin said. “What?”

      “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, boss.”

      “Let me guess: some sort of Shinobi thing. Spirit Cats?”

      “I know you doubt them, but if you pull open a pocket, you’ll probably find an origami cat.”

      “I don’t doubt their existence. I doubt I’m important enough to send one after me.”

      “Ziblers have killed a lot of Combine warriors throughout history.”

      Justin slipped the gloves on and moved to the body of the woman he killed. He probed carefully, with a healthy respect for booby traps, until he found what he was looking for. The paper felt heavier than it should, but the cat it formed was unmistakable. He held it up for Ken to confirm.

      “He’ll have one too,” the commando announced.

      Justin nodded. “MPs will be released to come to us soon. DMI reports suggest they work in four or five man teams. I doubt they’ll come after us again, but the others…”

      “Are grouped together, with a Rabid Fox Extraction Team as backup,” Sera replied. “This attempt failed. They won’t go for your sister, either. She’s just as operator as you are, and you absolutely destroyed that woman. You too, Ken.”

      “Mine was a dude, but yeah.”

      “Why? I mean, we’re good – I think we’re better than any ninja – but it seemed…easy,” Justin said.

      Ken shrugged. “It’s just different. We trace our lineage directly to the U.S. Navy SEAL teams that landed on New Avalon with Terran Alliance Marines. The Foxes trace theirs to Delta Force and the British SAS. Nekakami traces theirs to Shinobi clans of feudal Japan. They’re Old World, not used to the skill and brutality that we can bring. They’re better at pure assassination of political leaders and corrupt DCMS MechWarriors than we are, but they’re…a tool of a more civilized age, and times have changed.”

      “I wouldn’t call feudal Japan civilized, or any feudal society for that matter, but I take your point.”

      Sirens grew louder, finally, and the communicator rang. Justin picked it up. “Zibler.”

      “J, we’re getting the team back on base. There were two more attempts and both failed with no losses to us, just some minor injuries.”

     “Thanks, Commander. We take any of them alive?”

      “Not really. The one who survived immediately committed suicide with some sort of poison. There might be more out here, but we’ll do better against threats together. See you in 20.”

      “Yes sir.”

      He disconnected, but the phone immediately rang again. Justin glanced at it, then the others. “The door is locked?”

      Ken nodded.

      He answered. “I figured you’d call back now that your little friends are dead.”

PsihoKekec

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #39 on: 04 June 2024, 00:30:36 »
So I reckon medic injected him with something similar to atropine?
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Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #40 on: 04 June 2024, 00:35:30 »
So I reckon medic injected him with something similar to atropine?

 Very good!! Medic?

PsihoKekec

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #41 on: 04 June 2024, 04:24:52 »
Medic?

Fancy titles and additional training aside medic is always a medic. When I or my buddy is bleeding, I'm going to be screaming for medic, not any longer title.

Shoot first, laugh later.

Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #42 on: 04 June 2024, 06:44:24 »
Fancy titles and additional training aside medic is always a medic. When I or my buddy is bleeding, I'm going to be screaming for medic, not any longer title.

 No, I was asking if you were one, though as former CCT, I have to defend my AFSOC brethren haha. PJs attend the same selection and pipeline we do, save they go to New Mexico for EMT-Paramedic. They are dangerous! Haha, but you seem to know a bit of this.


PsihoKekec

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #43 on: 04 June 2024, 06:59:49 »
Never been a medic, just a regular infantry, but atropine was part of our NBC training and first aid training, not that we ever got issued it. Only in case of war, just like morphine for medic kits. 
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Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #44 on: 16 June 2024, 21:34:25 »
Margot Zibler jumped from the VTOL, a Kestrel that AFFS SOF troops loved, and raced inside the compound, barely registering that the checkpoints were now manned by significantly more dangerous troops in PAB-27 armor and full battle rattle. She didn’t bother with a single modicum of restraint, either; when Justin stood up from the chair with his heavily bandaged arm, she flew across the floor and wrapped her brother in a giant hug.

      “Uh, you know I’m a lot bigger than you, right?” Justin mumbled.

      “I don’t care. You still hug like a bitch.”

      She pulled back just slightly to look at him. “What the hell happened?”

      “I pissed off the wrong people?”

      “I think they pissed off the wrong guy. You walked away. That bitch didn’t.”

      Justin raised an eyebrow, but she shook her head like an angry, stubborn mare and met his stare. “Don’t start, J. I’m pissed. I’m allowed to be, and if you give me some stupid ‘it’s just me, I’m not important’ bullshit, I swear to God I will put you in an admin or training role so quickly that you won’t have time to strip your equipment down. Now what the hell did they have to say when they called you?”

      He shrugged. “He said the team that attacked us went rogue and did so against orders from the clan and the Coordinator. He said we should be allies in this fight.”

      “Did you believe him?”

      He shrugged again. “I don’t know. Nekakami aren’t noted for being particularly reliable sources. I barely believed they even existed until now; like the Samurai with seppuku, where we have a handful of reliable cases and a ton of aggrandized mythology and lies, there are very few solid, reliable sources of Shinobi. I can’t trust an organization like that, and common sense tells me not trust the enemy to begin with.”

      Margot laughed. “You’re a ****** nerd. Finish that doctorate already.”

      “But I do want to agree to the meet.”

      “Absolutely ****** not!” She screamed, surprised that Rollins and a few of her brother’s teammates had jumped up to yell the exact same thing. The chorus of voices seemed to bury Justin, but he remained at the epicenter, the eye of the verbal storm, as calm as anything she had ever seen him be. She smirked, even though she knew what it meant.

     When the storm died down, J stretched his arms out to either side. “Look, people took a shot at us. They failed because we’re better fighters, period, just like DEST failed to stop us because we’re better players at the pure Direct Action game. They’re not going to try again.”

      “You don’t know that!”

      He met her stare. “Are you here as a superior officer, or as my sister?”

      Oh, you son of a bitch. Sorry, mom.

      “As my sister,” he said, smiling. “That’s your ‘apologize-to-mom-for-calling-me-a-son-of-a-bitch’ face.”

      “For a smart guy, you’re an idiot. The giant hug and the sanitized BDUs should have given that away. I’m Margot tonight, concerned and loving – if really pissed off – sister, not Field Marshal Zibler. Besides, this isn’t my command.”

       “But it is mine,” Rollins interjected. “And I say this is stupid.”

       Margot sighed. “Yeah, but if you order him not to do it, he’ll just go anyway.”

       “Yeah, and then I’ll have to Court Martial a 37 year old perma-bachelor with nothing to live for but the nation and the teams.”

       “Hey!” Justin objected.

      “Oh, sorry, and the Roman Catholic Church and the models he paints.”

      “Hey again! We’re Ambrosian Rite!”

      Margot laughed. “Yeah, but if we let him go, we can set up all the security we want, with operators.”

      Rollins nodded. “Agreed. That means get the hell out of the room, Master Chief.”

      Justin turned, his sparkling blue eyes wide. “You’re kicking me out of my own op? Why?”

      “Yes, I am, and because I said so. Step outside.”

      Justin walked out, and Margot turned to Rollins. “He has a point, Commander,” she said, her eyes narrowed. For some strange reason, dismissing her brother angered her a little. “Why make him leave, especially with me here!”

      “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to offend. Your brother has a problem, though; he thinks he’s always right.”

      Margot sighed. “No, Commander. My brother’s problem is that he almost always is right, and you know it. You’ve been his friend a long time, which brings me to my next point: do you know a better gunfighter than him?”

      He shook his head. “Honestly ma’am, no. There’s maybe five or six shooters in this universe with that kind of natural, intuitive aptitude.”

      “And three of them are mine.”

      “Nolan, O’Bannon, and Ezzelini?”

      “Yeah, plus another, a Major Pallavicini, commanding the 7th Crucis Lancers’ Battle Armor Battalion that survived on Palmyra and ran the resistance for five years.”

      “Yeah, I read about that,” Rollins replied. “It was badass. You’re right, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

      “No worries, but call him back in now, please.”

      There was no mistaking the steel in her voice. She tried to keep much of it out, but she failed. Rollins called Justin back in. Margot looked both men up and down. “Ok, now I’m Field Marshal Zibler. You’re in on it, but I’m telling you exactly what’s going to happen. If either of you objects, I’ll have this scrubbed well above your heads. Are we clear?”

      “Crystal, ma’am.”


Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #45 on: 17 June 2024, 23:37:54 »
V

   
        They had only been on station for an hour when the figure slowly approached the perimeter from the wood line. The pouring rain did little to mask the sense of foreboding Justin felt, but he smiled anyway. The fear and excitement blended together in his chest, but he stood relaxed, fully kitted out with the plate carrier taken from PAB-27 combat armor, FAST Maritime High-Cut helmet, AOR 2 Naval Working Uniform, and white-phosphate quad NODs, raised up on his helmet. He carried his custom Serrek 7875L and his M42B URG-I carbine, Upper Receiver Group – Improved.

      The figure glided close and stopped only 5 meters away. “Master Chief, it is an honor,” he said as he bowed deeply, his voice scrambled by the internal contents of the Tengu mask he wore over dark, close-fitting clothing and boots. “I did expect you to come alone.”

      “I never said I would, and you didn’t come alone either.”

      “I am wounded, Master Chief. I…”

      Justin cut him off, a rude thing in Japanese culture, but the Frogman didn’t care. “If you lie to me, this will go nowhere but badly.”

      “I see. I brought four men.”

      “You’re lying again. I saw the Spirit Cat dressed in red,” he sang, his well-schooled baritone voice smoothly pouring from his lips.

      The figure stiffened, unable to conceal his surprise from his body language. He touched his mask, and glanced back. “Please remove the IR tags from my family.”

      Justin shook his head. “No, and don’t bother trying to play counter-sniper. My people are already moving to alternate positions.”

      “Ah, so the Field Marshal is in the field. Your sister is a formidable woman. DEST still has a price on head, as do Clans Ghost Bear and Hell’s Horses.”

      “She is probably the best recon operator alive.”

      He laughed at that. “Yes, and a peerless hunter and sniper. We know your family well, Justin Mark Zibler. Tell me, does she hide your secret as her own, too?”

      Justin smiled. He had expected this, and the Spirit Cat’s desire to regain control was understandable. “She does indeed, sir. I would not suggest using that line here, though.”

      The figure shrugged. “Ah, yes, as you have guns on all of my clan. That leaves you and I in the center, and you could easily draw and fire your sidearm before I could clear my weapon. With the rifle, you have an even greater advantage. You are confident.”

      Justin tipped his head just a bit. “I am indeed.”

      “You should be, Justin Mark Zibler. Your skills are legendary even among your enemies. Let us stop this dance. We are warriors, all of us, every man and woman here a tiger.”

      “Ok, let’s but first tell me why you’re here.”

      The figure sighed. “I can to apologize. You and your soldiers are not the target, and the attacks on you came against orders. It was, as you say, personal. The woman you killed had a brother that you also killed, personally. He had infiltrated a DEST team.”

      “The Vibroclaw suit.”

      The man recoiled again. “That is very perceptive, Master Chief.”
1
      “DEST recruits MechWarriors, not Special Operations troops or infantrymen. They don’t move well. He did.”

      “I know you feel nothing but disdain for my country, but…”

      “Disdain is weak compared to what I actually feel for your country, ninja. You’re an abomination, born of bloodshed and the slaughter of innocents, of the crimes of Imperial Japan and a society that never once apologized to the millions and millions of people it raped and killed. You continue that to this day, from Kentares to the Dragon’s Tongue. You glorify death. Racism, tyranny, xenophobia and death are your only cultural legacies outside of cartoons.”

      “And you are sinless?”

      Justin chuckled bitterly. “Not even close, ninja, but at least we admit it and try to do better. Now tell me why I’m here, or I swear to God, I will wipe your entire clan out, starting with you.”

     


PsihoKekec

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #46 on: 18 June 2024, 00:23:23 »
Why are Spirit Cats working for the DC, after they pretty much exterminated their cousins Nova Cats?
Shoot first, laugh later.

Adjudicator

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #47 on: 18 June 2024, 01:22:38 »
Why are Spirit Cats working for the DC, after they pretty much exterminated their cousins Nova Cats?

These "Spirit Cats" in question are NOT the Post-Jihad / Republic Offshoot faction of the Nova Cats.

These "Spirit cats" refer to the Nekekami, a kind of secretive ninja clan in service to the Draconis Combine which certainly pre-dates the Clans and possibly the original Star League itself.

To read about their not-insignificant role in canon, refer to the Thomas S. Gressman books of the Twilight of the Clans Saga (Book 3: The Hunters, Book 5: Sword and FIre and Book 6: Shadows of War).
« Last Edit: 18 June 2024, 01:25:13 by Adjudicator »

Cannonshop

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #48 on: 18 June 2024, 08:03:36 »
nice balance job keeping the disdain and dislike while still allowing for, if not cooperation, then rationality.

"If you have to ask permission, then it's no longer a Right, it has been turned into a Privilege-something that can be and will be taken from you when convenient."

Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #49 on: Today at 18:57:24 »
nice balance job keeping the disdain and dislike while still allowing for, if not cooperation, then rationality.

Thanks! I’m kind of leaning on how I, personally, think I would react to this kind of thing. I did have to work with some foreign elements we normally wouldn’t have, and it was interesting.

Katarn04

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Re: Black Water
« Reply #50 on: Today at 19:00:07 »
The figure bowed. “May I ask one favor, first?”

      Justin wanted to snap at him again; a well of frustration and impatience bubbled in his soul, but he bit it back and stared into the Tengu mask. “Ask.”

      “Could you finish the cadence for me?”

      “You really don’t want that, ninja. The next line brings a storm of shit you aren’t prepared to handle.”

      “I see,” the Nekakami leader uttered, his voice clearly amused. “Death by song. That is fitting from one warrior to another.”

      “I’m not a warrior. I’m a soldier. Last chance: why are we here?”

      “You are both, Master Chief. Now, we are here for the Black Water facility. Can your sister hear us?”

      “She can, but I need to remind you that my people  are a separate command.”

      “Yes, but you are classified as a Tier 1 Special Missions Unit as well, equals to the Fox Teams. Your sister has commanded Fox Teams her whole career, and now leads the entire Department of Military Intelligence, something impressive for someone barely in her 40s. She has influence, and I propose a joint operation.”

      Why the ****** am I not surprised?

      “Let me get this straight: your hooded freaks tried to kill me and my people. We killed them instead, and now you want to work with us hours after we wiped an entire team of yours off the galactic chart permanently? How the ****** does that make sense.”

      “I do not claim to make sense in this case, Justin Mark Zibler. I claim that this is necessary, that the war between our nations ended with your victory in the Dragon’s Tongue.”

      He shook his head, the Tengu mask somehow appearing sadder. “I know of a greater enemy that hunts us all, Justin Mark Zibler, an old monster, risen from the grave in the chaos of this century. Black Water is the key.”

      Justin leaned back and looked at the sky, keeping the Nekakami agent in his peripheral vision. Something about his words felt true, even if he couldn’t exactly place why. He was certainly dangerous – he was probably the most dangerous potential opponent he had ever faced, and while he was 100% certain he could and would defeat the ninja if they proverbially crossed blades in the future, it would take effort – and it was likely safer to just kill him and his team where they stood. Nobody would fault him for it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. You never could bring yourself to kill defeated and downed opponents. You always feel pity, and that might get you killed one day.

      He shook his head. No, it wouldn’t get him killed, and compassion and moral decency were the things that separated soldiers of the Federated Suns from the monsters of the Combine. Rather than a weakness, it made them better than their ancient enemy, and always victorious in the end. Mercy here was the only choice he had, or at least, the only choice he could make.

      Finally, he met the mask. “What are you offering?”

      “I offer a proposal to you, to Commander Rollins, and to Field Marshal Margot Zibler, the Ghost Walker of the Rabid Foxes. I propose that the Hattori family of the jizamurai class join the ocean warriors of the Federated Suns to save the galaxy from the fires of technocracy.”

      Justin stared for a moment, a long moment. He opened his mouth but couldn’t find words and slammed it closed again twice. He felt winded but eager, shocked but alive. He couldn’t possibly mean…

      Then Margot’s voice cut through the haze. “This guy is going to get me ****** fired.”