August 28th
L4 Colony Branch Outskirts
"Gladius" Storage Facility
3:18 AM DST
A nice, peaceful night.
Desmond Terell kicked back in his seat, and gave a sigh of contentment. This was the kind of position people dreamed of being assigned to: head of a low-security, strategically irrelevant glorified warehouse. Occasionally the new Meyven's goons would stop by to drop something off, but these days it seemed to be mostly shuffling around Directory surplus. A Cosmolion was a deathtrap these days compared to what the Combine was putting out, he mused as he took a sip of his coffee, eyes moving across the monitors.
Nothing ever bothered them out here except the occasional raider, and the new-and-improved Bioroids they had marching around the place had cracked down on space piracy so hard it was practically nonexistent. Compared to his usual staff they were always compliant, always polite, and ruthlessly efficient. They also never took vacation, though the occasional maintenance downtime was still necessary, at least he knew when it would happen 90% of the time.
He closed his eyes, preparing to drift off into a well deserved nap.. but, something at the corner of his eye made him stir, movement to his right.
A massive, cycloptic face came into view, affixing him with a malevolent stare over what, for all in the world looked like twin rows of razor sharp teeth... and Desmond felt his courage fail him.
"Wh-Aaaaaaagh!"
The Ascalon 07A extracted its arm from the ruined section of the wall, blood now caking its fingers. Within the cockpit, Tilde Cortaine shook her head in disbelief. Sleeping on the job? In times like these? Small wonder the Combine was replacing people with Bioroids. The lumbering Special crawled insectlike across the surface of the asteroid before floating into a dock. A flash of its eye - and two guard drones were incinerated, their spiny forms bursting into flames as she charged forward, smashing down the door to the interior.
Hands grasping the inner wall as the void wailed around it, Tilde's ears pricked up as the sound of an alarm finally managed to reach her ears. Not only that, but contacts, closing in. She gave a low whistle. Finally, some excitement!
"Well, that didn't last long. Oh well."
She flipped a switch to her new ally, hopefully waiting on the outside in the void. The plan was simple enough: She would smash and grab, and he would keep the others preoccupied. Three minutes was all it should take she reasoned, as the Nemesis Series rocketed forward, tearing apart all manner of support structures, cranes and crates in its path. Their prize was here - now she just had to rely on him to make sure she didn't get trapped like a rat.
"Get to work, kid." She said cheerfully over the communications link;
"Show me you can make that hunk of junk dance."
L4 Colony Branch Outskirts
"Gladius" Storage Facility
3:18 AM DST
A nice, peaceful night.
Desmond Terell kicked back in his seat, and gave a sigh of contentment. This was the kind of position people dreamed of being assigned to: head of a low-security, strategically irrelevant glorified warehouse. Occasionally the new Meyven's goons would stop by to drop something off, but these days it seemed to be mostly shuffling around Directory surplus. A Cosmolion was a deathtrap these days compared to what the Combine was putting out, he mused as he took a sip of his coffee, eyes moving across the monitors.
Nothing ever bothered them out here except the occasional raider, and the new-and-improved Bioroids they had marching around the place had cracked down on space piracy so hard it was practically nonexistent. Compared to his usual staff they were always compliant, always polite, and ruthlessly efficient. They also never took vacation, though the occasional maintenance downtime was still necessary, at least he knew when it would happen 90% of the time.
He closed his eyes, preparing to drift off into a well deserved nap.. but, something at the corner of his eye made him stir, movement to his right.
A massive, cycloptic face came into view, affixing him with a malevolent stare over what, for all in the world looked like twin rows of razor sharp teeth... and Desmond felt his courage fail him.
"Wh-Aaaaaaagh!"
The Ascalon 07A extracted its arm from the ruined section of the wall, blood now caking its fingers. Within the cockpit, Tilde Cortaine shook her head in disbelief. Sleeping on the job? In times like these? Small wonder the Combine was replacing people with Bioroids. The lumbering Special crawled insectlike across the surface of the asteroid before floating into a dock. A flash of its eye - and two guard drones were incinerated, their spiny forms bursting into flames as she charged forward, smashing down the door to the interior.
Hands grasping the inner wall as the void wailed around it, Tilde's ears pricked up as the sound of an alarm finally managed to reach her ears. Not only that, but contacts, closing in. She gave a low whistle. Finally, some excitement!
"Well, that didn't last long. Oh well."
She flipped a switch to her new ally, hopefully waiting on the outside in the void. The plan was simple enough: She would smash and grab, and he would keep the others preoccupied. Three minutes was all it should take she reasoned, as the Nemesis Series rocketed forward, tearing apart all manner of support structures, cranes and crates in its path. Their prize was here - now she just had to rely on him to make sure she didn't get trapped like a rat.
"Get to work, kid." She said cheerfully over the communications link;
"Show me you can make that hunk of junk dance."