Advent Saga




*An addendum before I begin stating any further details of said operations. The group and members in question that were involved are operating under “Yellow Brick Road” or more commonly known as “Alpha Protocol”, in which although we have oversight of said activities but no official links to tie us to activities their commit. That being said, most members of the the unit are political prisoners or criminals who are trying to wipe their slates clean while the other half are hired mercenaries.

The only exceptions to this are Capt. Brandon Fenix and a Michaelanglo Leon. They are the only unit members that are here due to the attack on the A.E.S. Zeus, classified under Incident Epsilon #44567-82. They were at ground zero and are here to clear their names of any involvement.

Although the company has carried several missions prior to this operation, due to the strict nature and proximity to incident Epsilon #44567-82, all information has been classifies above top secret and is in direct control of Admiral Agreian. The following operations have been given the green light to be released to military personnel of all grades and ranks involving this unit. Although they have no official name or unit number, most of the enlisted men and officers have taken to calling them the “Montley Crew”, due to their…“unique” make of team members.

Operation: Pandora’s Box
Presiding Officer: Maj. Burgess

At 1600 hours, intelligence reports indicated that weapons of the same make and model that attacked the Zeus were in the process of being sold on the black market in the city of Bunjakai. Reports also indicated that the man selling the weapons, Hugo Greecks, a infamous smuggler and gun runner, was to be meeting his buyers in person in the Laros district at 2240 hours.

Orders were given to Capt. Fenix and his unit to head to Bunjakai and observe the exchange and capture both Greecks and the buyers. Transport was provided by Capt. Abigail Lancaster, designation “King 6”; call-sign “Queen of Scots.” Upon arriving in Bunjakai airspace, an event occurred on-board King 6 that triggered an engagement with an unknown black creature. The team disposed of it quickly and set out with their assignment.

Prologue: A Calm Breeze Disturbed
The adventure begins!

A starting scene of black as if surrounded by it. Then a soft glow of white light slowly descends upon you and find yourself flying through it. In a immense flash, you come to seeing stars and galaxies as you soar through space at the speed of light. You slow when you approach a large blue planet. Suddenly a voice begins to speak…

“Terranueva…a beautiful planet in a vast universe. But it was not always so. As all things of such grace and tranquility it was born of fire and strife. As most worlds start out, the people of Terranueva were just different tribes and groups fighting for survival…until the appearance of the Jurai. A gathering of kings and rulers joined together to bring peace to their war stricken world. With advance technology and a combined might of professional armies, they spread out into the world to establish order. Renaming the conquered lands the Juraian Empire, the Jurai elected an new emperor and ruled justly. Many threats and enemies arose in their long reign, but the empire always found a to emerge victorious. But nothing last forever…”

“About two thousand years ago, the Jurai disappeared and the empire fell without rhyme or reason. The cause behind this is still under research and study but many are still just theories. From the fall, many different countries came about from it. The two main countries that rose from the chaos was the Empire of Aceria and the Kingdom of Valdiea. For years they fought and battled each other on and off, vying for supremacy.For now, there has been a sort of peace between them for the past fifty years, but as Fate has shown us, nothing lasts forever…”

You fall towards the planet at a quick pace and begin to fly over Aceria. You enter a gliding down perspective towards the shoreline as you swiftly fly past the landscape below until you come upon the small shore community of Vale. It’s beaches pristine, it’s waters clear. A sprawling community in the green hills of of eastern Aceria. From there you the newest ship of the line, the A.E.S. Zeus, it’s sharp and sleek metallic look makes it stand out. And it is this ship that starts the events that pave the way for destiny…

Brandon is outside The Trader’s Inn, a decent sized tavern and supply shop at which he works. Owned by a rowdy Hertolan by the name of Grant. He is sweeping out front of the tavern when a quickly rising sound of multiple voices on the air. He turns to his right and sees Jasper Cornelius, the resident heart-throb from Valdiea, running up the path and past him at breakneck speed. “What the…” Brandon says, as his head follows Jasper as he sprints by him. The ruckus following Jasper jumps several octaves and Brandon snaps his back to the direction of the clamor and sees a large group of screaming and cheering young girls chasing after the young and handsome Valdiean. “Holy Fucking Gen…” Brandon doesn’t get to finish as he is trampled over my the mob of hormone-fueled women craving passion and romance with the young Valdiean. As the mob and it’s clamor fade off, Brandon is seen on the ground, twitching, with footprints covering his body. “ugh…fangirls…why…” Brandon dusts himself off as he gets up off the ground. He enters the tavern through the front door with a jingle of a bell as he shuffles inside. Grant looks up from his catalog at the sound and looks at Brandon and bursts out laughing at the sight. Brandon’s teller apron was covered with dirt and grime from the ground. His face covered in dust that was kicked up from the passing mob of crazed fans chasing after Jasper. Brandon removes his apron and throws into the hamper behind the counter. He checks his attire to see if it’s ruined. His slightly tight black t-shirt gives some way to his fit figure, his white and blue stripe cargo pants drop a little and he re-fastens his belt to adjust them the proper height. He at last checks his black mid-height Dobermann hiking boots, ones which he worked hard for to afford, to check for damage. Seeing them unscathed, he returns back behind the counter to finish sweeping. “HA! Jasper’s little fan club out and about already?!” Grant chuckles. Brandon retorts “More like stage five clingers and stalkers from Hell.” “They’ll rip him apart…” Grant lets out a yawn “Especially at this early hour.” Brandon gives Grant a sardonic look. “It’s 11:40 in the morning! But I guess that would be early for you, lazy ass.” “Hey, I only got up an hour ago. Besides I’m old, I need my rest.” Grant retorts. “Your only forty-two!” Brandon exclaims. “Yea but I feel twenty years older!” Grant lets out a low chuckle and Brandon just stands there and sighs heavily.

Raylin comes over the soft foothills of Vale’s farmland inward towards the mainland on the Hera high road that splinters off from the main Imperial Highway leading to the Imperial capital of Versai. Hera high road was also know as the “Beggars” road, seeing as so many priests of Genoa from Avalon stop here before continuing on to the capital or people who just ran out of luck. The only saving grace these people had was in the fact that Vale was peaceful. A small coastal town with a lot of green surrounding it, a thing most people take for granted nowadays. As Raylin walked towards the town center, his brown shoulder tarp draped over him and his head like a hood and cloak. With the soft breeze flapping against his ragged and travel-worn clothing, tell-tale signs of old scuffles and even older scars, it parted back enough to show his skin. It was slightly darkened and tanned to a smooth and soft light brown, most likely from constant exposure to a hot sun overhead all day, a sign branding him a man from Alba-Lakbir, a tribesman of the desert and a long way from home. With a cool breeze from the opposite direction, the make-shift cloak floated close and covered his skin once more, but not before the late morning sun catches the polished brass and copper glint of Raylin’s memorial scimitar attached to his waist. The curved blade was the length of his his leg, hanging slightly low from the weight of the sash being held down. Despite his weathered image, the sword was in pristine condition, evidence of extreme care and maintenance in it’s quality. Raylin continues walking, passing a priest of Genoa without a second glance, leaving the beggar with a sad and sour look on his face. Raylin though in his mind that he did want to help, having seen beggars and desperate, unfortunate souls in his homeland in droves and masses. But the simple truth was that he had nothing to spare. He was spread thin as it is and the money he had left was enough for a week, at most, of food. He had spread his meals out more and more to conserve what he could, but it was becoming difficult. His stomach began to growl in low, bellowing tones and began upturning itself. Raylin let out a small sigh. “Well it has been two days since I last ate. Let’s see what I can find I town.” He quelled his thoughts of tight resources and pressed on into the town.

Grey had been ad the roadside for a good fortnight now, asking people to spare what they could. He figured that with the Hera high road so close to the Imperial Highway he would have some decent foot traffic coming through. And like his nickname suggests, Gray “No Luck” was wrong again. Although the Imperial Highway was close, hardly anyone besides the townsfolk passed on the highroad, at least when there were no festivals going on. Gray had already asked all the townsfolk willing to help him for donations. Unfortunately, he persisted in his begging and once got a little more annoying than usual, causing a very quick retreat for his life. He would try the road again to see what he could get. He offered his bowl to a passer by draped in a brown and ragged cloak, but the young man didn’t even give him a second glance. Under his breath, Gray whispered “awww” in a sad and exhausted tone. He started thinking back to the Order and regretting his decision to leave. He felt so unappreciated there that he often wondered why he joined at all. He also wondered with a nickname like “No Luck”, he lasted as long as he did. Then again, he did leave on his own accorded. Still he wondered if his choice was the right one. He looked in his coin purse, meager in it’s weight, and let out a long, regretful sigh. He had barely enough for a decent meal, let alone for the original planned stay. Gray would take what he had left, grabbed what food he could, and try his stake elsewhere, like the capital. He rose from the ground, his imitate robes fade in color and beginning to fray at the bottom due to constant travel, headed into Vale to seek out his meal, the last one he might have in a while.

The light of the midday sun had cracked through Alexander’s window on the third floor, hitting him directly in the face and waking him from a deep slumber. I say deep because when you wake up from a heavy night of drinking, rising yourself out of a blackout coma before noon is a bloody miracle. Alexander slowly opens and focuses his eyes, giving way to the sight of books everywhere and many more haphazardly thrown about bottles. Yep, just another Monday morning in the life of Alexander Von Ritter. He looked down on himself and felt pride in the fact that he had mange to change himself out of his clothes, climb into bed without a heavily bearded woman, and not break hi in the room before he lost conscience, or rather memory, of last night’s event. He was further astonished that he did the previous three tasks without vomiting on himself. “Well that must get me points somewhere” he said in his subtle Razrourian accent in a low and soft tone, fearing that speaking higher than that would awaken the monster of the hangover that surely slumbered around the corner and it was a light sleeper. He slowly rose from his bed and turned towards getting out and placed his legs with the cool polished oak floor. He rose to to his feet, too quickly perhaps for he felt unbalanced and stumbled a little. Alexander quickly regained his footing and thought to himself “Next time, lay of the Gin.” He shuffled over to the window next to the desk in the room where his notes where laid out and parted the blinds. The sudden flash of warm yellow-white light awoke the slumbering beast of a hangover and a sudden headache came forward and hit him like a brick. Alexander quickly turned and put his index and middle fingers to his temple and began to rub. The light gave way to his tall, lean frame. In a fashion, he was “wiry”, which meant sleek, slender, but all compounded muscles to make the body he had. He grabbed his clothes, a set of scholarly robes with black silk and dark smooth violet lining the edges and a bright red sash brought it together to a close over his dress pants. Alexander looked over his notes one more time and began organizing he materials and works. He whole purpose here was to see the new ship of the line, the A.E.S. Zeus in it new glory. He had been going to every stop along the way of the Zeus’s maiden voyage to observe ans study the ship as much as possible. He was fascinated by the advanced ship building techniques of the Acerians and their technological advancements. They were still no where close to rival Marchesste’s fleet and it exquisite attention to every detail, bringing beauty and power in a seemingly perfect balance, still the fact remained that there was nothing of this caliber in Razrouria. He grabbed his one book on the table and headed downstairs to the main dining hall.

Michelangelo entered the town without anyone noticing him. This was an achievement as the town of Vale was a small sprawling community, where people pretty much knew each other, but Michelangelo had always been good at keeping a low profile. That’s what he trained most of his life for, the art of Ninjitsu of the Okame style was all about hiding in the shadows or the earth, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. His journey was not a long one, only traveling from West Aceria. However, he felt that a slight change in scenery was in order from the more mountainous region of the land. The coast was a nice place to start, to take his mind off of recent events that had passed. The quest he had set out for himself still drove him, more like plagued him, and pushed him on in rough times. The pleasant view of the coast did calm him, but the smell, oh the smell, that is what truly pacified his nerve’s and worries. The sweet salt smell and taste of the ocean air on his lips gave a calm to his soul, a placid sense of balance within himself. He didn’t know why this was, he never lived anywhere near the shore, but he knew he wanted this feeling. A true master of stealth and tactics must be at peace with himself before he can quell the chaos before him in the outside world. Peace. Maybe that’s what truly carried him forward, an impossible goal to achieve with a mind torn and distraught as his. Still his own sanity depended on him accomplishing this goal, this impossible task, as he saw it, laid out before him with no end in sight. Still, he would push on, ever-so into the world, so grand and ever changing. Michelangelo was very good at surveying his surrounds, looking for advantage points and quick routes of escape. It was all his rigorous amounts of training that made him this keen and aware to the world around him, so when it really came to it, it truly was the training come forward and doing the fighting for him. It was simply instinct now. Michelangelo need a few supplies before he head on toward his next stop, the city of Garute. He heads into the the tavern to pick up what he needs.

Grant had already headed into the back of the tavern to work on orders and supplies. He may have been a late riser, but he wasn’t a slouch….well not a complete slouch. He had left Brandon in charge of the main bar/counter area to take care of customers that came in. Brandon was wiping down the counter when Alexander came down to the dining area. Brandon had already memorized his order in the mornings-Hot green tea with honey and a splash of lemon. He had been very specific, but lucky for Brandon he hadn’t been an ass about it, expecting to be weighed on hand and foot, every single detail to satisfaction. Brandon had dealt with enough people like that over his time working in the The Trader’s Inn but Alexander had been friendly enough with most of the staff at the tavern. During their chats together Brandon discovered that Alexander was on a tour of the A.E.S. Zeus and was dying to take a tour but wouldn’t be able to do so until it made port again in Garute, but that wouldn’t be for at least a month. Mr. Von Ritter was more social than most guest at the tavern. Fact was that getting to keep quiet was the real challenge, especially with alcohol in his system. Still, the events that transpired with him intoxicated were pretty amusing. Brandon had already placed the tea in Alexander’s preferred table. Alexander gave the young barkeep a nod of acknowledgment and thanks and sat with his book and began sipping his tea. The light green veil that covers the main door blows open as Gray walks into the the tavern and approaches the counter. “What can I get you” Brandon asks Gray. Gray thinks for a while, considering how much cash he has remaining. “umm…umm….I’ll have some tea….annnddd…..some soup” Gray grins as wide as he cans when he says this but it slowly disappears as he notices Brandon staring at him with a quizzical, cocked-eyed expression. "Is that it? Brandon responds. “Yea…why?” Gray sheepishly questions. "Oh no, I just figured you stared at the menu for five minutes with that look on your face and saying “Umm,Umm” every minute, you might have ordered more." Brandon retorts and turns away from Gray to begin his order. Gray with a dumbfounded look on his face simply goes “oh”. “You can take a seat at one of the tables. I’ll bring your order to you when it’s ready.” Brandon said this without turning and Gray continued to find an empty table.

Brandon ears perked up to the sound of running, heavy stomps as if someone were to be running away from danger. At first Brandon thought it might be Jasper, and his crazed groupies, chasing him down and coming around for another pass, but it wasn’t. He only heard one set of footsteps approaching, and approaching fast. He turned his head to the left to see the front entrance way erupt in dust clouds and fire trails as he crashes into the counter. He scoops himself up and looks at Brandon with a dead and frail expression. Raylin exclaims “Food! Please give me food! I don’t care what it is, I’m starving! Food! Food! GIVE ME….” Brandon stuffs a pork egg roll half-way into Raylin’s mouth with an unamused look on his face “$2.00.” Raylin slowly sucks on and chews the egg roll that Brandon had stuck in his mouth and pulled the amount out of his pouch. He mouthed and gargled a muffled ‘Thank You’ to the young man behind the counter as he handed him the amount due. Raylin took a big chunk out of the small morsel he had been given and then asked “Can I also have some tea?” Brandon then states “Sure, why not” and then returns to complete the monk’s order. Raylin blinks a little and then turns towards the dining room and takes a seat near the fire pit.

Michelangelo entered the tavern without making a noise. Even the silk sheets barley moved as he past through them. He approached the counter without a sound, not event the polished wooden floorboards creaked. The guest didn’t even notice him at the counter and as he was about the make his presence known, Brandon said, without turning “Make your selection from the menu and make yourself comfortable in the dining hall.” Brandon turns his head to the side “When it’s read, I’ll bring it over to where your sitting” Michelangelo was a little surprised by the fact that he had been noticed by this guy. He hadn’t made a single echo of his presence and the clerk acted like he had heard him all the time. He pushed these troublesome thoughts way and chalked up the incident as him getting rusty without regular training. “I’ll have a look at some supplies. I’ll just have some tea for now” Michelangelo said this as he was walking towards the supplies in the back of the tavern that opened into the trade shop. As he walked away he heard Brandon say under his breath “Tea! Tea! Everybody always wants the fucking tea! Genoa, what is grant lacing that shit with?! Vexium?!” Michelangelo chuckled a little, but felt a strange shift in the winds. Something was about to happen…

On the command deck of the A.E.S. Zeus, Captain Ralcust is overlooking the stations of the Zeus’s deck. The full glass windows and holographic readouts that made up the the helms view-port gave a stunning 180 degree view of the front of the ship and the surrounding area outside. With nanotechnology and cutting edge research that gave birth to the Zeus, the artificial intelligence on board adapted the conditions in the monitors and viewpoints of the ship so that a clear, non-blinding view was always kept. Ralcust looked down from the captain’s helm and order in a calm manner “X.O. Report.” The executive officer, Lieutenant Higgins, responded with “All systems nominal and green. The ship is running smoothly. All crews report 100% readiness.” Ralcust gave a nod and a small grunt of acknowledgment. Higgins ascended to the command podium where Captain Ralcust was watching over the crew manning the key parts of the Zeus’s systems. Higgins stepped up to the captain and asked “Permission to speak freely, sir?” “Granted” Ralcust lifted his coffee mug to his lips as he sipped and listened to the X.O. Higgins was always vocal about the ships assignments, even before the crew was posted to the Zeus. “Sir, why are we out here on a tour? This is one of the most advanced warships in the Imperial Navy and they have us going up and down the coast like a ferry?” Ralcust chuckled a little, a joke only he understood passed through his mind “Because it pleases the bureaucrats back in Versai and it allows them to shine up their pride buttons simply because they help pay for her” Higgins chuckled in response “Well I supposed that true, but shouldn’t we be running combat drills instead of showing it off?” “Terry, you always are business oriented. Think of this as a change of pace” Ralcust reassured him. Ralcust addressed the crew “Someone get the X.O. a drink next time we have leave. He needs it bad, else his mind is going to fry!” The crew let out a burst of light laughter and just as quickly returned to their normal duties. The radar operator puts on a confused look on his face as he notices something odd on his screen. An unknown blip. Coming in fast.

The missiles screamed towards the Zeus at breakneck speed. As they entered arming rage, their outer shells jettisoned and peeled away from the rest of the missile, reveling the warheads at the centers of the incoming salvo. The missiles hit the side of the Zeus with full impact. Explosions ripple across the hull.

MISSILE STRIKE ON PORT BOW! MISSILE STRIKE ON PORT BOW!” screamed over the intercom. ""All Hands, battle stations!" Ralcust ordered at the top of his voice. “Higgins, damage report!” Higgins begins reading out the reports coming in on his holo-pad. “Multiple cruise missile strikes of our port bow! Hull integrity at 90% and holding! Decks 20 through 24 severely damaged! Initiating emergency seal-off procedures!” Ralcust presses a few buttons on the display screen in front of him " Com to engineering! Full power to shields! Send repair team to key areas of the ship!" Ralcust hurries down to the main control deck where the observation stations are located. The ensign at the radar station yells out “Second wave of cruise missiles inbound, 300 meters out!” Ralcust, without missing a beat, issues his orders “Shields up! Activate anti-missile defenses!” The radar ensign blares over the intercom “Ten seconds to impact!” Ralcust holds on to the nearest thing he can " All hands, brace for impact!" Another wave of unknown cruise missiles hit the port side of the ship, but the shields take the brunt of the explosive forces of matter colliding on matter. Higgins began another status report " Hull at 87%. Shields are holding at full capacity." Ralcust gave his orders with grim determination “Expand the radar to full rage! I want to know where the hell those missiles came from!” The holoscreens light up and expanded to full view in front of the captain and officers and began a subsonic sweep of the surrounding area for any objects. after two minutes, the scanner still detects nothing. Higgins says “Computer, analysis of war heads used against the Zeus?” A few murmuring beeps later an androgynous voice comes over the deck’s intercom " Unknown warheads are classified as Type 37 Variable Strike Cruise Missiles, minimum yield." Higgins turns to Captain Ralcust “Those missiles could only be fired from a submarine.” Ralcust nodded his head in agreement and as he was about to give the order to ping the ocean floor when the ensign at the scanner shouts out " Unknown vessel surfacing 300 meters out!" Ralcust stomps forward to the station the ensign is at “Get me a definitive classification! I want to know who that son of a bitch is!” The radar man pounds away at his station, gathering as much information as possible on the vessel before is went under again. “Got it! Enemy vessel is a underwater aircraft carrier, Lancelot class.” Higgins turns to Ralcust and says “Lancelot class? Only one country uses that.” Ralcust turns to face the tactical overview screen without saying a word. In his mind, however, only one name came to mind “Valdiea”.

The sound of the initial explosion rocks the small town of Vale and shakes it to the very core. Everyone in the tavern jumps to their feet with the exception of Michelangelo who had already gone outside and hid in the tree line to observe the events unfolding from a secluded spot. “What the hell!?” Exclaimed Brandon as the aftershocks finally reached the tavern. Out of the back stumbles Grant, cursing up a storm. “Bleeding Hell! Can’t an old man take a crap in peace!” “Grant you’re only in your Forties!” retorted Brandon. “Heh, tell that to my proctologist!” A disgusted look comes upon everyone in the tavern until finally Alexander says " Okay, I’m no Druid, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t kosher." Brandon turns towards Grant “Next time keep shit like that to yourself!” Brandon turns back to the same crowd in the main lobby of the tavern and their quizzical looks towards him. “…no pun intended” Raylin shouts out" Screw this, I’m headed out there to see what the heck is going on!" As he begins to rush out of the Trader Inn, Alexander replies “I’ll join you.” and quickly follows after him with Gray quietly in tow. As they leave through the front door, Brandon runs into the back to grab something. “What the heck do you think you’re doing, kid?” Grant asks with concern. Brandon reappears from the back moments later with something covered in a white and red sash. " I am going to find out what the hell that explosion was! Try not to wreck anything while I’m gone! Brandon quickly rushes out the door as he says this.

Brandon runs out towards the group gathered out on the deck, starring out into the distance. “What are you guys looking at?” Brandon asks the men gathered and awe-struck. Gray slowly lifts his finger and points towards the beach. Brandon follows the gesture and sees the A.E.S. Zeus with flame and smoke rising out of one of it’s sides. Brandon looks on into the distance and simply says “Oh…that”. The group stand there in silence for a few minutes, taking in and understanding the events unfolding before them. Eventually Alexander breaks from this gaze and begins to head down the town steps towards the beach. Raylin turns towards Alexander and calls after him " Where are you going?" Alexander stops for a moment and without turning responds “To get a better look, of course!” and continues on his way down towards the beach. “Well I’m not going to be stuck up here!” Raylin quickly chases after Alexander and follows him down. Brandon lets a smirk come across his face “No point in staying up here where it’s boring.” Brandon removes the sash to reveal a beautifully ordinate katana of black and gold, with whit ivory lining the side of the suba and the grip. He quickly rushes down after the others. Gravy left there gaping and mouthing absent words that can find no sound to pronounce them. After a while Gray simply says “Fucking White people” and chases after them, his robes flapping in the spring breeze.

Ralcust shouts out orders on the command deck. “Helm, evasive maneuvers! Port side batteries, load Halcron 120 rounds and take aim at the UAC!” The bridge is alive with activity as men and women rush to maintain the ship and to counter the surprise attack on the vessel. The battery rooms began to hum as they charged their munitions and took aim at the Lancelot-class carrier. The heat from the batteries filled the room and drove the temperature through the roof, the sweat on the engineer’s brows clear evidence of the pressures of the machinery and of battle. Ralcust steps forward towards the main viewing window. The tension on the bridge grows as the Zeus slowly moves into firing position; The warbird entering range for the perfect kill. The computer’s voice drones out over the sound system " Ship has entered optimal firing range. Shooting solution has be plotted." Ralcust shouts out at the top of his voice “OPEN FIRE!” The port side of the Zeus lit up in a blaze I’d orange-red energy as the weapon batteries open up, the sound became deafening and grew to such a volume that all other sounds became nothing but white noise. The rounds struck on target or around the vicinity of the ship. The warning sirens go off on board as the Lancelot carrier made preparations for an emergency dive. “Enemy vessel preparing for emergency dive!” Higgins reads out as the information and reports hit his holopad. “Don’t let that son of a bitch breathe!” Ralcust cusses out across the bridge. He headed over to the communication hub “Con, weapons. Load all torpedo bays and fire on enemy vessel. Make sure that the only reason that bastard goes under is because we blew it out of the water!” Ralcust turns to Higgins " Higgins, ready the seismic charges and moves us into position over the UAC!" The Executive officer begins relying the captains orders when suddenly he is cut off " ENEMY VESSEL LAUNCHING AMPHIBIOUS ASSULT CRAFT AND LANDERS!" “WHAT!?” Higgins exclaims as he runs over to the holographic layout of the battleground. Five new blips begin emanating on the screen. The radar officer responds to the XO “Sir, Lancelot-class underwater aircraft carrier launching multiple amphibious assault and landing craft. Bearing 2-0-4, speed 10 knots.” He turns to face Higgins “There making a B-line fore the shore, sir.” Ralcust joins him from the comm hub. Higgins faces his commanding officer “They can’t destroy us with assault craft.” Ralcust gives him a grim look “They mean to board us, not destroy us.” Higgins stays there with a flushed look on his face, all color starting to leave him. Ralcust turns away and calmly says “Open the armory.”

The sound and shockwaves coming from the Zeus returning fire stopped the group dead in their tracks. As they surveyed the ongoing battle, planted the like stuck in cement, neither willing to flinch for a second, people ran past them trying to escape the coming warships. Theses people’s vacations had been cut off and they were not going to complain, seeing as escaping with their lives was enough as a complimentary bonus. With the approaching assault craft, the group readied themselves for combat. Brandon and Raylin drew their swords, Gray took earth and formed weapons from it. Alexander took out a book and began to read. This brought a quizzical look from everyone else as they turned to him. After a while Raylin finally spoke “Are you…are gonna get ready?” “I am ready. Plus this is a really good read.” Gray speaks up and says “Don’t you see the advancing angry-looking ships?” “Yep, but seen it all before” Raylin turns to Brandon and at the same time save “Razrourians” Just then, the craft make landfall. The doors burst open and out pour soldiers all dressed in black and armend to the teeth. “All right, lets do this!” Brandon yells as he runs towards the beach, blade drawn, with Raylin close behind. Gray follows soon after into the fray of rallying battle cries and ships landing on shore. Alexander keeps his non-chalant attitude as he continues a slow pace down the stairs.

Michelangelo begins preparing one of his seal scrolls on the ground before the enemy has too much time to set-up their positions. He lays out the scrolls before him and begins the incantation to appear behind the enemy. As he opens his eyes, however, he realizes that he mistakenly put the scrolls in the wrong pattern. Before Michelangelo could stop the ninja art from completing, he gets sucked down to his waist into the sand. “Well…fuck.”

Raylin runs into the fray swinging his sword around and throwing fire at the troops. With a dazzling display of sword play and flame control, Raylin took down three soldiers without much effort. The soldiers began to return fire at Raylin as he gracefully dodges the incoming rounds. Raylin brings up a fire shield to protect himself.

Some of the soldiers break off from the group and charge towards Gray, firing their weapons. He quickly takes up sand and forms hand scythes, three of them, and begins to deflect the incoming fire in a dazzling display of sparks as the rounds ricochet off the hardened earth in his hands. Gray quickly ducks down and slams his palm down to the sand. In an instant, three soldiers pulled down into the sand and crushed.

The assault vessels train their heavy mounted guns on Alexander, still calmly coming down the stairs to the beach. They open fire on the Razrourian and he simply picks up his pace as he glides out of the way down the steps. The auto cannons re-train for his quick movements and continue to open fire on Alexander. He begins to jump out and around the shell’s impacts, all without looking up from his book and still continuing his progress towards the beach.

The soldiers pouring out from the landing craft begin to launch climbing cables to the hull of the Zeus. Brandon, still charging, jumps off the pavilion at the base of the stairs over the initial troops that swooped into to stop him. He brings up his sword Over his head and begins charging it with energy. And he comes out from on high yells out “Hitenzanza” and releases the latest slice of energy.




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