Entry: 00-014: The Wilds Part 2 of 2 - Nightfall

The Wilds Part 2 of 2: Nightfall

by Wedge, Co-Creator

Several curious Zappers investigated the area drawn by Mata's energized shield. She powered it off and practiced slicing them apart with her boomerang kukri while she leaned against the tree, regaining her strength.

"Listen whatever these critters are paying you to let them eat me I'll double it," Hock said.

Mata let out a sharp laugh, "lets get that blood cleaned off you," Mata unrolled a medic kit stored in her thigh pouch, "everything here seems to want to get a taste."

"You've had your fair share of admirers, mind that elbow," Hock pointed to Mata's right arm which had a laceration running the length of her tricep.

Mata seemed to notice the cut for the first time and prodded it tenderly while flexing her arm testing its range of motion. For the next several minutes they busied themselves with dressing their wounds, re-hydrating,and Mata retrieved her weapons. The light was fading as they prepared to set out again for the crashed shuttle.

"Typically the nocturnal hunters are more dangerous than those that move around during the day, we should get going," advised Mata.

"What do you say we stick together this time?"

Mata assented with a slight nod, and the two set out at a sustainable pace.

A shift change overtook the alien jungle as they traveled, and the now familiar background noise of creatures large and small began to die away. An uneasiness began to settle across Mata's shoulders.

She had spent nearly her entire life in the uncharted wilds on dozens of worlds, but there was something different about this one. She could not give name to her growing concerns until the last deep throated groan died off, and an uncomfortable silence overtook the jungle which had been teeming with life moments before. Yes it was the silence that was so unnerving. Expecting to be surrounded by a chorus of unknown animals their absence was deeply troubling.

Hock's heavy footfalls behind her were booming in this transformed world and her own measured breath was disturbingly conspicuous. Even the wind seemed to have retreated, and the foliage overhead had stopped its endless rustling.

Making a gesture to stop Mata and Hock stood motionless. Mata quested out with her senses, ears rotating, nose twitching, trying to find any indication of life. The lightest wind still trickled through the tips of her hair and she could detect the faintest smell of smoke.

Ripsis.

Not wanting to speak Mata pointed towards the source of the wind. Proceeding with calculated care they stalked through the muted jungle until the smoke led them to a scar carved through the wilderness. Shredded trees and undergrowth still smoldered in the wake of the crash site, and fires still burned bright enough to illuminate the dilapidated shuttle's carcass where it lay over 100 yards ahead wedged into the trunk of a ancient tree that now bowed forward at an unnatural angle.

Keeping a weather eye on the tree line, Mata danced over the fallen limbs and upturned earth making a path to the ship. The front half of the shuttle was now like a mangled accordion as it pancaked against the tree's broad trunk, but the back half seemed largely in tact. Creeping up she placed her hands on the ship, and ran them along until she reached a ragged hole opening into the pitch dark hull.

"Ripsis?" Mata whispered tentatively.

A deep bass groan emerged from the black, "Still alive; somehow," the tone sounded almost disappointed, "next time I'll take my chances in free fall."

Mata made a small smile to herself and from over her shoulder Hock said "I told you he would be all right."

"I could use a hand getting out of here, I spent the last of my energy reforming the interior bulkheads into a protective cocoon during the crash, but I didn't leave enough space to replace the charges, " Ripsis said.

"Don't worry big guy we'll spring you," turning to Hock she said, "give me a hand with one of those saplings cut down in the wreckage."

Scavenging around they found a likely candidate and Hock hefted the sturdy 9 foot long trunk while Mata helped guide it into the opening in the shuttles hull. Using it as a lever Hock put all of his weight onto the other end. The teeth grinding sound of metal on metal filled the unnaturally quiet night and the loosened bulkhead gave way slamming to the ground followed by the a tumbling form of a Lauxnaut curled into a tight ball. Ripsis rolled for several feet until his armor plated head came in contact with a stone outcropping jutting out of the jungle floor with a crack.

Unfazed Ripsis stood up measuring just a few inches shorter than Hock, but half again as wide as the him, and weighting in at over twice that of the fully armored soldier. Much of Ripsis's body was covered in naturally forming armored plates, and his exposed skin was a mix of the natural Lauxnaut grey highlighted with splotches and streaks of pallid green photocells. The modified Varigator armor suit covered the left side of his torso and arm. Three cylindrical discs studding his shoulder emitted jets of steam as they rotated counter clockwise to unlock - revealing the blackened cores of three fully discharged power cells. Removing the spent cells Ripsis gingerly retrieved two spare power cells from a canister on his belt and fitted them into the empty sockets. The power cores snapped to life emitting a pure white light and spun down clockwise locking in place hidden beneath the Varigator body armor. Almost instantly the green splotches on his skin turned from pale and washed out to a vibrant living color.

"Got any more of those?" Asked Hock indicating the power cells, "Spirit Crusher took a jolt and I haven't been able to get him online since."

"I'm running short," Ripsis's thumb jabbed to the shuttle wreckage "You may be able to dig one out of there."

"Lovely," Hock fished around in a pocket on his chest until he found a small light which he thumbed on as he stepped into the ruined ship.

Surveying the crash site Ripsis's gaze followed the low burning embers into the distance "So whats the status?"

"I think our ship got knocked out of the sky by coming too close to a swarm of mating bugs that vent electromagnetic waves from their asses," said Mata with a lopsided smile.

A deep gravely laugh escaped from Ripsis, "well I guess there's a first time for everything, whats the ETA for evac?"

"Should be a few hours from now... I was worried about the Zappers getting them too, but it looks like everything around here have gone to ground for the night." Mata eyed the shadows cast by the fire flickering across the stationary jungle canopy with trepidation, "I don't know whether to be relieved or concerned."

"Story of my life darling."

"Found one!" Exclaimed Hock as he returned form the shuttle's corpse gripping a fresh power cell in his hand. Depressing a pressure spot on the stalk of Spirit Crusher Hock ejected the old power cell which was charred and spider webbed with white cracks. Dismissively he flipped the dead cell to the ground replacing it with the fresh one. The plasma rifle hummed to life, and a familiar voice spoke inside Hock's ear.

"WJS Technology Model 209-C online, please input serial activation code."

"Damn, I think that bug fried more than the power cell," Hock said out loud, "I'm gonna have to let Dust take a look at it when we get back to The Overwatch. Still I feel a lot more prepared for the wildlife tour this time."

Punctuating Hock's words there was a strangled feral cry from the brush to the North of the crash site. Mata's senses snapped to alert picking up a rustling sound from a short tree nearby. The three held their positions perfectly still. A rasping sound came from the other side of the shuttle, like metal on scales. Hock smoothly panned the barrel of the Spirit Crusher towards the sound searching for its origin.

The silence resumed for another minute.

An unexpected thud vibrated up Hock's right leg and he looked down to find a foot long black serpent latched to the metal toe of his boot.

"I think you've bit off more than you can chew," Hock kneeled down and ejected the blade from his gauntlet severing the snake's head in a single motion. A viscous black fluid drained from the wriggling serpent.

Mata's nose wrinkled, "watch what you step in Hock - that reeks."

The tension broken, Ripsis began to stamp out some of the fires immediately surrounding the shuttle. Mata started searching the surrounding area for any more snakes. Hock pried the serpent's dead jaws from his boot and produced a cloth that he used to wipe the blood off his blade.

Mata had her back turned when the beast struck.

A startled yell was all the warning they had. Mata turned to find a massive beast descending upon Hock's crouched form. It was quadruped that must have stood at least 12 feet tall. Its back was a tangled mess of horns jutting out at random angles and its face was a writhing mass of the black serpents - the same as the one that had stuck to Hock's boot.

By the time Mata could call Ripsis and draw her kukri several serpents had latched onto Hock, lifted him off the ground, and were drawing him into its maw.

Darting forward Mata attempted to free him but Hock was already outside of her reach. Several more more hungry serpents struck out for her as she passed but she deftly dispatched them with her razor sharp blades. Ducking low Mata stepped under the beast and attempted to hamstring its front trunk like leg. Her kukri sliced through the matted fur on the back of the creatures leg but stopped short as it encountered some form of solid bone. The beast's back foot kicked forward at Mata with thick splayed claws and she leapt clear.

Ripsis had come around the corner of the shuttle and squared off facing the rampaging monster. The focusing crystals embedded in the knuckles of his three fingered left hand glowed red and he gestured to the dislodged bulkhead he had been trapped behind. The gigantic plate must have weighed a full ton but it rose up like a feather at his command. The bulkhead flung itself at the beast and its jagged edges sawed deep into the creatures flank. Its right rear leg went limp and the creature slowed considerably. One of the energy cells in Ripsis's armor ejected out with a hot jet of steam, the charge having been completely spent.

Struggling futilely Hock was nearly completely covered with countless serpents coiling around his limbs, drawing him deeper inside.

Mata slid the kukri back into their sheaths along her lower back and reached over her right shoulder to grip the cool handle bound tightly in a leather thong.

Pulling the long curved handle over her shoulder she gripped it two handed and activated the telescopic weapon to slide out forming a 5 foot long panabas. Whirling it in an over handed grip she set upon the wounded creature. Using her entire body's weight she lashed out with a devastating horizontal slash that severed the creatures front left leg at the knee. The animal collapsed under its own weight.

White hot energy jabbed out from inside the beast's chest cavity illuminating the dark night as Spirit Crusher's plasma beam roasted the creature from the inside out. Hock appeared in the breach riding out along with a wave of serpents all fleeing the burning corpse.

Mata looked on in horror no... it wasn't a corpse at all, it was some sort of nest.

Hundreds of jet black serpents of all sizes poured out of the once living nest seeking blood.

Scything through scores of them with her panabas Mata could only manage a fighting withdraw as the tide continued. Eventually the massive blade was fouled in a knot of thick snakes and she was forced to abandon it. Switch back to her kukri made her more agile but the enraged creatures beset her from all sides. Frantically searching for sanctuary Mata made for the tree line, leaping into the branches of a thick tree anchoring herself with her tail. She used both hands to cut down snake after snake as they slithered up the tree in pursuit. In a explosion of activity hidden animals who had taken refuge in the tree at nightfall fled in panic and fell to the jaws of the serpents. Scrambling to the top most branches capable of supporting her weight Mata eased out onto a limb restricting the paths the assailants could take to reach her. From here she was able to catch her breath and slay the diminished flow of serpents at leisure.

Looking down onto the crash site Mata found that Ripsis had devised his own way of handling the swarm of beasts. Having torn a yard long metal reinforcement bar from the shuttle he now used his Varigator powers to turn the bar into a spinning lawn mower blade churning around the jungle chopping snakes into tiny chunks.

The exodus finally subsided and the last of the serpents interested in Mata retreated.

She made her way back down the tree. Hock was laid out next to the smoldering nest struggling feebly with a few serpents that still held fast to his body. Mata deftly decapitated the last of those, and surveyed him.

It looked bad.

While his armor remained largely in tact shielding the majority of his body, bite marks covered Hock's exposed skin particularly around his neck and lower arms. Most of the wounds weeped with thick black poison.

"Hock can you hear me?"

Hock's eyes were unfocused and he seemed to be still attempting to weakly brush off snakes which were no longer attached to him, "I got in three stims before I was pulled down into that stinking gullet so I'm feeling pretty damn good right now," he managed a pathetic grin, "but I've got a sneaking suspicion that I'm not gonna be saying that when these things wear off."

"I think we are gonna need this," Ripsis stomped over gripping a squirming serpent tightly behind its head.

Mata emptied out her canteen and guided the snake in Ripsis's hand to the lip of the bottle. With a killer instinct the snake struck at the bottle, fangs extending inside, and Mata milked out the venom.

"Sit tight Cain, when Lady Baylen gets here she will be able to make an antidote," commanded Ripsis.

Hock was deliriously crawling back towards the smoking hive of dead serpents "Mmmm, that smells good, anyone up for some BBQ?"

Entry: 00-011: The Wilds Part 1 of 2 - The Huntress

The Wilds Part 1 of 2: The Huntress

Illustration by David Melvin

Story by Wedge, Co-Creator

"I'm going to piss on Twelve's weed garden when we get back to The Overwatch," said Hock.

Even though Mata was strapped to his chest she managed to twist her head around to face him displaying a predatory grin "What's wrong soldier boy, afraid of heights?"

"No, I wanted to get a closer look at the top of this tree because I was considering buying property here," Hock struggled against the twisted cords sending both of them spinning.

"You were the one in control of the steering lines, it wasn't Twelve's fault that you picked the biggest tree in sight to slam into."

"This kind of parachute isn't designed for more than one person," Hock leveled an implicating stare at Mata, "besides what kind of robot packs only one into a transport shuttle that seats eight?"

"All things considered I can think of more than a few who might enjoy trading places with you," Mata's tail swung around and tickled the bottom of Hock's chin playfully.

"So hanging upside down tangled in a freakishly tall tree covered in cuts and bruises is a turn-on now?"

"Well it does get the blood flowing..."

Cursing Hock resumed his thrashing and the two of them spun helplessly through the air strapped to one another in the remains of the ruined tandem parachute.

"All your flailing is just making it worse," said Mata.

Hock momentarily stopped straining "listen my right arm has a blade in the gauntlet but I can't feel that half of my body at the moment so if you've got any suggestions then you have my full attention."

"Well if you wanted my help all you had to do was ask." Mata produced a kunai and bent her arm backwards to cut through the straps binding them together.

"Watch where you stick that thing girly."

Mata curled her tail around one of the remaining cords that held them suspended from the tree and sliced herself free. She then rotated around to face Hock full in the face "Do you prefer to go down head first or feet first?"

A grim smirk crossed Hocks split lip "You are about to grin your way through my last nerve Mata."

"You are so touchy - and not in a good way" with a wink Mata snagged a length of dangling rope and effortlessly swung down to land on the thick branch a few yards below where Hock hung. Proceeding to loop the rope around the meaty part of the branch she tied it off and shouted up "ready?"

"Always."

Mata drew a flat convex blade with a hidden hinge at the top from her thigh and flicked it open into an asymmetrical V shape. Slinging the blade with an underhanded throw the weapon arced through the air cleanly slicing the remaining parachute binding Hock sending him hurtling towards the ground like a pendulum crashing into a patch of thick bushes on the jungle floor. Mata snatched the weapon out of the air as it completed its orbit and peered down through the foliage to see that Hock already freeing himself from the tattered harness.

Mata swung effortlessly through the branches, bouncing off massive disc like fungi radiating out of the tree's broad trunk, and when she reached solid ground she found Hock fussing over his gear. She was struck by the humor of seeing the hulking seven and a half foot man covered in scrapes, plant debris, and mud fussing over smudges on his favorite plasma rifle.

"Were you able to find out anymore about what made the shuttle go down?" Hock asked sub-vocally.

"The ship experienced no external or internal damage, the power to all systems failed simultaneously," said Spirit Crusher's voice inside Hock's left inner ear.

Hock let out a frustrated grunt, "what about this planet, what should we expect?"

"This planet's fauna is rated I6, and it even has some flora at I4 level, I recommend we fortify our current position and wait for reinforcements before retrieving Ripsis," answered Spirit Crusher.

Apparently satisfied Hock engaged his link with The Overwatch. "Mata and I made it down in one piece, any word from Ripsis since the crash?"

"Negative, although in the event that he did survive the crash it is likely he is unconscious or otherwise unable to communicate" said the voice of Dust from Hock's communicator.

"Hes as tough as they come, but we need to get to him fast all the same, when can you send down another ship - this time hopefully with an armed escort?"

"I fear that is the problem, I've already dispatched another drop ship with Daxim, Alizara and Kinaso flying fighter escort, but factoring in the extra level of precautions necessary for a safe flight path through hostile territory and the relative position of The Overwatch's current orbit..."

"Dust, how long?"

"Approximately six and a half local hours."

"Understood, we will..." Hock caught movement from the corner of his eye as a finger sized flying bug landed on his neck and emitted a bright flare from its abdomen. Abruptly Hock's link to The Overwatch cut off and the Spirit Crusher powered down. Hock grabbed the creature and crushed it oozing orange goop from between his fingers. "What the hell was that?"

Sauntering over Mata examined the lifeless plasma rifle "Looks like a Zapper. Its a fly that emits a small EMP field that causes all kinds of nasty damage to electronics. You should seriously consider turning off your toys when you aren't using them."

Hock's face looked ashen "No powered weapons?" he managed listlessly.

At full height Mata stood even with Hock's navel but she wrapped a steadying arm around his waist and said "you should be able to use some electronics in short bursts, just remember to keep them off unless absolutely necessary, these things seem to be attracted to the field it generates." Hock shook his head and seemed to regain his composure. Mata continued, "and apparently they also can cause dizziness so close to your head, even one as thick as yours."

Hock ignored the jab and returned the Spirit Crusher to it's cradle on his back. "I wonder if that's what made the shuttle crash, we didn't detect any weapons fire."

Considering this for a moment Mata said, "we were flying pretty low, if we ran into a swarm of those things it probably could have taken the whole ship down."

"Does your N-Lab link still work? We need to warn the others before they join us down here."

Running her hands through her tangled hair Mata shook her head, "I lost my transmitter sometime during the fall. Maybe we could find one in the shuttle wreckage, and we need to get to Ripsis fast. I saw a thin column of smoke to the North East when I was up in the tree."

Warily scanning the jungle around him Hock retrieved a ancient looking scatter gun from his pack "this planet's home to some nasty critters, and all I've got this antique shotgun. This should be fun."

Mata's eyes shifted from a deep orange to red "We hunt," she intoned.

Gesturing to follow Mata loosened the two kukri strapped inverted across her back and sprung down a worn game trail that provided an opening in the thick ground cover. The path was inconsistent, changing angles with no discernible reason, and sometimes it disappeared altogether for several yards leaving her to pick her way through the thick brush before it reappeared. The dense jungle canopy played tricks with the light, casting wild patterns through the foliage seeming to take on a life of its own. Alien creatures hooted, brayed, and chirped all around, outlining their territory, seeking mates, and busying themselves with the demands of life. The oxygen rich air was stocked with the smells of life all around her and Mata was filled with a reckless rush. She had been cooped up on the lifeless starship too long. It was time to stretch her legs and feel the thick damp loam of earth between her toes. And to hunt.

Mata's measured gait turned into a leg sprawling sprint leaping over knotted roots and evading thorny stalks the wind in her wake left only the barest hint of her passage. She ran on like this until she lost all other thought, drunk on the joy of simply living.

A flattened patch of grass.

Deep scoring on a tree.

A formidable whiff of secretion.

Mata instincts told her that she had entered the territory of a higher food chain predator. She began to slow her pace and pick her paths more carefully. The game trail would be watched by any other hunter. A bay in the distance stopped her in her tracks. Palming the handles of her kukri she crouched and slowed her breath. An answering bay sounded from back the way she had come, closer. The triangulating bay came too far to her left to be closing in on her position... what then were they hunting?

The realization struck her as her rational mind tore through the shroud her animal instincts had caped over her brain: Hock.

She had forgot all about him in her heady plunge through the jungle and now he was likely stomping his way along the game trail in an attempt to keep up. Mata retraced her steps settling into the huntresses mindset, but this time keeping a leash on its intoxicating call. The baying was coming more frequent now, and she could follow their sound like way points to her comrade.

The unmistakable recoil of a gunpowder propelled firearm split the air.

Mata bowed her head and surged forward.

She came upon the corpse of a creature that was approximately six foot long and looked like half of its skin had been blasted into a bloody pulp. Snarls, baying, and the unrivaled stream of curses told her she reached her destination. Mata cartwheeled sideways between two closely growing trunks to find Hock thundering out of a batch of thorny brambles wielding his apparently empty weapon like a club on his pursuer. Catching the beast on the edge of one of its horns it's head snapped around and it staggered.

Mata drew her two kukri and leaped towards the disoriented beast in a single motion descending upon it and embedding her blades deep into the monster's back before it could regain its footing.

Three more animals erupted from the brush at once and converging on the source of the spilled blood where Mata stood. The beasts were bi-pedal, sporting long grasping arms that terminated in a cruel sickle claw, and a wide face with a jaw that seemed to be hinged too wide framed in a halo of horns. Their beady eyes seemed to assess Mata's threat for an instant. They circled her for a few heartbeats.

Then beast behind Mata took some unspoken queue and lashed out.

Mata turned and parried the claw with her left blade, but the creature recoiled, and there was no power behind the strike. A feint. The other two beasts darted towards her now exposed sides, but Mata chose to follow through with her counter attack on the retreating enemy. Her second blade bit deep into the meaty arm she had batted aside so easily, but she had no time to pull the weapon free before an overhand swipe forced her to duck and roll along the side of the wounded beast to place herself behind it and using him as a barrier between the other hunters.

They still had the advantage and Mata needed to even the odds. She hurled the last remaining kukri at one of the healthy creatures in a flash landing right between its eyes and splitting open the creatures head. Empty handed Mata turned and leaped, stretching her body out like a diver, she soared through a rotted hollow bole of a nearby tree. Coming out the other side she caught a green sapling and circled it before landing back on the ground. The two remaining beasts came around either side of the tree she jumped through and closed in driving Mata back.

Only one option left, no matter how much additional attention it might attract from the Zappers, Mata flipped on her double sided ballistic shielding and the familiar thrum of electricity spread through her entire body making her hairs stand on end. Sinking into her unarmed fighting stance Mata welcomed the hunters attacks.

The beasts converged on her, and her limbs snapped out with blurring speed. The snapping sound of her energized shield filled the air each time she turned the creatures attacks with her bare arms and legs. Each of her strikes had to be lightning fast and timed perfectly to engage the ballistic speed shield, otherwise her skin would be as soft as the damp ground they struggled over.

Horns and spikes caught Mata at unexpected angles, causing her to drip blood.

She pushed on.

Her right leg found an opening in one of the creatures defenses and the force of the strike enhanced by the engaged shielding turned her toes into daggers sinking into the neck of the creature and sending it spinning off to die.

Yet Mata remained locked in combat with the final creature, and she could see her kukri jutting from its arm, but the beast only seemed to be spurred on by the pain and fought with a singular determination knowing its life depended on it. It was all she could do to hold her own.

A deep boom pealed through the air and tiny steel pellets ricocheted an inch from Mata's face as her ballistic shield snapped on. The beast wavered and Mata used the opportunity to retrieve the kukri with a energized strike, taking the handle of the weapon she brought it all the way through the arm severing it entirely, and with a underhand swing she brought the blade back around to cut off the remaining hand at the wrist which even now quested towards her soft belly.

The creature collapsed in a heap and Mata stumbled over to lay on a large exposed root gasping for breath.

Hock stood ten yards behind the fallen creature the barrel of his scatter gun smoking.

"Takes so long to reload this thing - its a wonder anyone ever survived long enough to do it," Hock was covered in more wounds than before, but he had the biggest smile on his face that Mata had seen all day "still though, there is something rather satisfying about shooting it."

Entry: 00-008: CotV Fiction - The Deadliest Weapon

The Deadliest Weapon

by Wedge, Co-Creator

Daxim walked to the edge of the crater.

The sidewalk in front of him abruptly buckled at an extreme angle and slanted down like a giant bowl scooped out of the very heart of the sprawling city. The pit was over a mile in diameter with everything inside pressed smooth as glass. Even the structures around the site were buckled, windowless, and stripped of paint. Everything within reach had been pulled into the center of the crater to a tiny point invisible from Daxim's vantage.

"Return to your home sir, this area isn't safe," said a commanding voice behind him.

Daxim inclined his head to find a stocky security officer with a no-nonsense posture. He meet the man's withering stare.

"I'm no threat to you officer," replied Daxim simply.

"Threat?" a forced chuckle rumbled through the officer, "we are standing at ground zero and you think I'm going to be threatened by a chump in a trench coat?"

The security officer strutted up to where Daxim stood and examined him with a squinted suspicious eye. Physically Daxim possessed qualities that most humans identify as familiar but upon closer inspection there were things that didn't seem right at all. The corneas of his eyes were oddly shaped, he had an extra thumb on each hand, and there were bumps in his skin where there shouldn't have been. "I don't believe I've ever met your kind before, let’s see some ID."

Daxim held out his hand to the biometric sensor on the Officer's handheld device. A scrawl of text began to emerge on the screen and the Officer scanned it with practiced bluster.

"Species Unknown, just what exactly are you?" asked the Officer.

"I've often asked myself that very question," said Daxim.

Unsatisfied the Officer continued his inquiry "Private Investigator," he practically spit the words out and put on his least sincere smile "by all means then, feel free to take a look around, Tactical Black Holes leave all sorts of useful forensic evidence when they compact every atom in a one mile radius into an area smaller than a pinhead."

"It's not about what was here that is important, its about what is not here," said Daxim.

"What isn't here, aside from my patience, is the cities central defense system which was at the epicenter of the catastrophe even though it was buried over a quarter of a mile underground. Now we are vulnerable to SERK raids."

"This form of destruction is not in a SERK's character, it compromises their third directive."

"Don't talk to me about the SERK, we've had had five raids here in the last year alone, and have managed to hold them off, but now this," the Officer gestured to the crater.

"I think you are missing the point entirely, the SERK are not directly responsible for this. Furthermore whomever did this was not targeting the planetary shield, although you were surely meant to think so."

The Officer's attention was interrupted by a group of children throwing stones into the crater "I'm too busy to listen to everyone that’s got a theory and toy badge, do us both a favor and don't get yourself killed digging through the rubble," and with that the Officer stomped away.

Daxim fished around in his pocket and pulled out a inch long crystal that appeared to be filled with milky white clouds. He held the crystal up to the sun, but its hue did not change. Shaking his head slightly Daxim enabled his transmitter "Red, have the others reported in yet?"

Two light tones emanated from the transmitter indicating that an encrypted link to the starship Overwatch's AI had been established. "Yes Sir, Alpha squad is still searching all spaceports in the city, and Beta squad is maintaining a net around the planet, but there is still no sign of the target: Mael Aramsis," answered Red.

"That’s because he isn’t leaving, put me through to Hock," a moment passed and the transmitter toned twice again. "Hock, change of plans."

"Dax I am not in the mood for one of your pep talks, this spaceport is mobbed with people trying to get off this rock its going to be impossible to find him in this mess."

"He is in the city, in fact he is probably closing in on your team right now, pull out of there and lets regroup on my position," said Daxim.

"What are you talking about, we've been chasing this guy for weeks, and now we're finally close enough to strike so he sets off the deadliest weapon known to mankind in the middle of the city just to throw us off his trail. After all that you wanna go ahead and let him slip away?"

"He didn't set off the Tactical Black Hole to help him escape, he did it to prevent us from seeing what he is about to do next. Black Holes are not just a deadly bomb, they also disrupt the space time in this dimension, which means we are flying blind. The Dreamer can no longer help us catch him, look at your crystal."

There was a pause and Hock's voice came back less sure than before, "So the strange little crystal is cloudy, big deal. The Dreamer is completely untraceable, how could he possibly know about her?"

"In this dimension yes, but this confirms something I've feared about for a long time."

"I don't know where you are going with this Dax, but I'm sure I'm gonna hate it."

"If The Dreamer can see everything we do and what we will likely do in the future, then whose to say someone else can't do the same thing?"

"But that would mean Aramsis cut off his lifeline too, plus he is stuck planet side since the government has declared a state of emergency fearing SERK attack, nobody is getting on or off this planet, it doesn't add up."

"Hock, do you know what the deadliest weapon really is?"

"Can't you ever talk straight? Get to the point!"

"I'm saying Mael Aramsis came here knowing we were closing in on him, he detonated the one explosive that disrupts space time cutting us off from our ability to track his movements, and he has got the SERK harassing the system so we can't leave. It was a setup from the start, and now he is hunting us. What I'm trying to tell you Hock is that the deadliest weapon in the Universe is not a bomb; its the mind."

Entry: 00-007: CotV Fiction - The Dreamer

The Dreamer

by Wedge, Co-Creator

My name is Solene Pythia and I'm watching my own birth.

It is very clear to me right now.

The bored nurse who surreptitiously checks her data pad for any messages as my mother goes under the anesthesia.

The steady beep of the machinery in the room.

My mother's flashes of guilt between the contractions that she tries to conceal as pain.

I know now that at the this time, she truly didn't know if I was the daughter of the man who is squeezing her left hand and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. The man who I would later call "Dad".

It's very clear to me now, that tiny variations in the sequence of events that are about to happen can so radically change the course of my life that I still break out in a cold sweat just watching it. My muscles tense, and I hold my breath just as the Doctor pulls the tiny 6lb 7oz version of myself wailing from my mother's womb and raises me to her arms. I see the moment of decision at the point just between my mother's eyes, as she resolves to lock the secret of my conception deep in a vault within her mind never to be uttered to another soul, and the smile that erupts from her eyes from the release of this burden of decision is glorious.

I freeze this moment, and take the time to examine every detail... you see she does not make the same decision every time I re-watch this scene.

In the version of this scene that I watched immediately before this one, my mother decided to wait until she and my Dad were alone in the recovery room to tell my Dad that I was not his daughter and that there had been another man from her office who had shared a night with her some 9 months ago. My Dad and my Mom argue in this version, and I grow up calling a man named Sten "Pappa" instead of the "Dad" that I know in my heart to be true...

There are other versions of this scene I have seen that are misty and illusive which have me come out as a boy, or as fraternal twins. Each of those Solene 's (or Samuels in the case of the boy) grow up to lead entirely separate lives, never once intersecting with the life that is currently mine.

So I keep coming back to this tread in time, examining the slight fluctuations in this scene, and comparing them to the others. I see that in this version, the A/C kicks on 2.5 seconds before the baby me is handed to my mother, while in the other version it kicks on 1.35 seconds after. In the previous scene the nurse dropped her data pad and the clatter of it on the hospital floor seemed to cause the doctor to hand the baby me to my mother 1 second later than in this version, because he spared time to give the nurse a disapproving glare. Could one of these seemingly irrelevant details be the one that leads to my mother's silence rather than her admission? The question burns in the part of my mind that still clings to my humanity, to the life I once knew.

My soul is weary, but spending time re-watching this scene renews me. It hardens my resolve to do what must be done.

I take a step back from this thread of time and watch it shrink away into the mass of vibrating continuums of probability that surround my consciousness. I move across the room to the monolithic crystal that appears to have grown through the very floor of the room, and I lay my hands upon it. I see images moving through the crystal and I know that they must be sleeping. I refocus my efforts, and quest out for my disciples, those that I've watched for so long now, those that have the spark which I have selected them for from among countless sentient beings.

I find them all safe aboard The Overwatch traveling through outer space. Its early in the morning ship time, and they are all asleep, except the ever vigilant Dust. I begin to spin the dream now. Weaving the threads of probabilities around me and brushing them against the receptive subconscious's of my disciples. I try again to paint the picture for them of their future. Of one possible future which they can work together to prevent. But these tools are so imprecise, and my only method of communication is repeated innuendo, riddle, and allusion. I hope that they can tease the truth out of these messages in time and reach Montogo before Vice Mael Spaeti releases the SERK on the Assembly peacekeeping troops, but their ultimate fate is out of my hands, all I can do is watch... and dream.

My name is Solene Pythia, but my disciples call me The Dreamer, for that is all I can do in this lonely dimension outside of time. I am trapped here futilely manning a lighthouse assaulted on all sides by a sea of probabilities while I try desperately to signal to those who will open their minds to see... that there are rocks ahead.

Entry: 00-004: CotV Fiction - SERK

SERK

Illustration by Reza Ilyasa
Story by Wedge, Co-Creator

“Need a refill Private?”

“No thanks Captain, I plan on sleeping for a day straight when we get back to base.”

“Humph” was all the Captain said as he released the restraints on his seat and pushed off floating down the narrow isle separating the two pilot’s chairs towards the tiny kitchenette in the back of the patrol craft.

An amber homing light flashed on the console and the Private lazily waved his hand over it.

“Private Marsen on patrol ship 02-144 reporting, sweep of route 17 complete with no unusual activity recorded. Requesting permission to dock.”

Silence answered the Private and after a few moments the Amber light changed to a solid green.

“Sierra won the Trosep Migrathon Invitational” said the Captain “my link just updated, has command hailed us yet?” The Captain returned to his seat with a fresh bulb of warm caffeine in his hand.

“The docking beacon is engaged but they didn’t respond to my hail” replied the Private “and don’t get me started on Sierra, no way he would have won if Kinaso was still in the game.”

The command ship was now visible to the naked eye through the cockpit window growing larger with each passing second.

“Ha! Sierra has three times more league victories than Kinaso ever did, she was a fluke.”

“And how many of those wins did he make while Kinaso was still playing?”

“You’ve gotta look at the bigger picture Private, its all about lifetime achievement not a couple years of freakish success. That’s why you are still a Private, no concept of the bigger picture.”

The command ship filled the entire front view port but instead of the normal sleek blue metal hull the ships carcass was pockmarked with burns and cratered by massive impacts. Meter after meter of cable flapped in the windless vacuum trailing from the disemboweled command ship signifying lethal decompressions. Then it began to move. No it writhed, like the entire hull was covered with bees, but instead of bees there were thousands of robots crawling over the surface of the ship.

SERK

Hands fumbling over the patrol ship’s controls the Private searched for the emergency override of the docking beacon. Panicking he pushed the throttle to maximum accelerating their approach to certain death.

“What the hell are you doing?” The Captain snapped out of his temporary stupor, unlocked the manual override, and disengaged the auto pilot. Jerking the control stick back hard the ship twisted away from its approach.

“Make a heading for planet Orvan Prime, we’ve got to warn them the SERK are in syste-” a deafening pop rattled through the patrol craft and shrapnel blasted through the open cockpit door skewering the Captain with a meter long section of steel that embedded itself deep in the control console. Atmosphere blew out of the rupture in the patrol ship just as the Private flipped the catch to seal his pressure suit. Red lights flashed from every control for only a moment before the ship’s power sputtered and died. The now ravaged patrol ship somersaulted through space and all the helpless Private could do was watch. As his crippled craft tumbled, he caught another glimpse of the gutted command ship, and the silhouette of another massive vessel that was outlined against the field of stars – a SERK Warfactory.

With each revolution the SERK Warfactory grew larger, and soon the Private felt unnatural vibrations pulsing through the chair he was strapped to. He imagined hundreds of the tiny scavenging SERK latching onto his ship, tearing it apart bit by bit, and feeding each piece back into the massive furnace at the heart of the Warfactory where it would churn out more and more of the same robots… forever.

The Private unlatched the weapons compartment near his foot which had somehow stayed shut during the entire ordeal and drew the plasma pistol depressing its activation nob. A SERK scavenger crawled across the cockpit’s window and its glowing yellow eye seemed to register the Private’s presence because it immediately ejected a six inch serrated saw which it proceeded to bore into the view port straight in front of the Private’s head. The pistol blinked twice indicating it was charged and the Private unleashed a volley on the scavenger shattering the portal and sending it tumbling off into space.

A terrible vibration coursed through his seat and the Private twisted his head back toward the cockpit’s door to see the hulking frame of a SERK drop into the ship after having torn through the damaged ceiling. This one was different from the smaller scavengers he had seen, it was a full head taller than the Private himself and in each hand it carried cruel scythe like blades. The two locked eyes for a fraction of a second before the Private begin firing his sidearm at the avatar of his death. The energy skittered over the SERK’s reinforced frame with pathetically little effect and the robot continued forward. Desperately the Private searched the cockpit for some other defense but before he could change tactics the SERK launched towards him, the scythes arched down, and the cold black void swallowed his last words…

Entry: 00-002: CotV Fiction - The Spirit Crusher

The Spirit Crusher

by Wedge, Co-Creator

“Hock, taking all known variables into account I estimate that you will be dead in the next 90 seconds,” said a chromatic monotone voice inside of Hock’s left inner ear.

“At least I can take comfort knowing that you will soon be haunting someone else Spirit Crusher,” replied Hock sub-vocally.

A cold tingling radiated through Hock’s fingers and toes letting him know that the second adrenal stim was beginning to wear off… either that or an errant round may have penetrated his armor and he was slowly bleeding out. Either way, the Spirit Crusher’s predictions were infuriatingly accurate which meant there was nothing left to do but roll the dice.

Hock snapped off the scope, brought up the holographic range finder, and toggled the rifle’s firing mechanism to full-auto – there was only be enough power left for one shot at this. Ejecting the tactical knife from his gauntlet Hock ran the blade over his exposed knuckle drawing a long line of blood across the blade. Good old fashioned pain works just as good as any stim. Riding the surge of awareness Hock tossed the blade over his left shoulder rolling out from behind the wrecked land rover to his right.

Immediate interception fire turned the bloody tactical knife to slag while Hock rolled to his knee and opened fire on the two SERK Trackers closing in on his position. The white hot plasma raked through each one in turn before their DNA targeting systems could change to Hock’s position and each one fell just as the familiar voice intoned “Ammunition Expended.”

A grin cracked the side of Hock’s face and he began to stand up when a dark shadow fell over his vision.

Instinctively he brought his rifle up into a two handed parry just in time to catch the double scythe blades of the SERK Butcher which bit deep into his battered weapon. Collapsing under the tremendous weight of the robot Hock twisted his body backwards sending the bulk of his attacker over his head. Wrenching the rifle vertical Hock came down on top of the SERK putting all of his weight into the butt of the weapon which landed square in the side of the robot’s head. Metal crumpled and sparks flew from the crater in the robots skull sending spasms through its body. Hock hammered the would-be assailant 8 or 10 more times with the rifle just for good measure and collapsed.

“Metal fatigue” said the metallic voice, “that was unexpected.”

“I guess this hunk of metal had been recycled one too many times,” said Hock.

“I expect you to fix the damage to my frame, I’m not designed to be wielded like a club”

“Try not to sound too broken up about me making it through this one Spirit Crusher.”

“Why do you persist in calling me that name?”

I wonder thought Hock.