3 Days Later
“Are we there yet?”
“No.” Siyuakén replied irately, “We’re in the middle of the
desert, Kevérin. You’ll know when we’re there.”
“But I don’t have to pay attention to the road,” the Pyrotechnic
replied, his attention primarily drawn to the AR game he was playing, “It’s a
lot easier to just ask you.”
“Of course,” Siyuakén deadpanned, her grip tightening on the vehicle’s
steering device.
“Kevérin…” Kaoné sighed, “…can’t you at least switch with Siyuakén
every hour or two? She’s been driving for four hours…”
“And I was driving before that.”
“For two hours,” Siyuakén stated.
“Hey, I got us out of Nock,” Kevérin protested, “That place was a
clusterfuck. I had no idea Treséd was so bad…”
“Well it’s probably time for you to switch back,” Kaoné suggested.
“Hmm…” Kevérin glanced over at her, “…why can’t you drive?”
“I don't know how.”
“What kind of Lieutenant doesn't know how to drive?”
“A Materiatechnic.”
“…Oh.” The Pyrotechnic replied slowly, “…right.” He then returned his
attention to his game while asking cheekily, “Are we there yet?”
“If you ask that question again I’ll make you drive
the rest of the way there.”
“…How far away is it?”
“That’s a more reasonable question,” the Electrotechnic commented,
“…really, it’s impossible to know. Tresédian compounds do their best to keep
their location secret, in order to avoid drawing attention from all the bandits
and gangs. It was hard enough trying to figure out what direction to
drive in to reach this Introtechnic we’re looking for.”
“Davídrius,” Kaoné stated, “his name is Davídrius.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Siyuakén deadpanned, “But really, Treséd
is a bitch of a nation to navigate. The whole damn place is desert – sand or
tundra – the vehicles are outdated and don’t have built-in GPS, and there’s no
satellite receptors anywhere so neither of you can get GPS to your glasses!”
“Speaking of glasses, why don’t you have any?” Kevérin questioned,
“Practically everyone wears them now.”
“I can’t. I’m an Electrotechnic. I’ve fried every pair of glasses I’ve
owned within a week of getting them…”
“Oh. Well that’s really too bad,” the Pyrotechnic replied nonchalantly,
“There’s tons of great things you can do with glasses. Like play AR games!”
Siyuakén glanced over at Kevérin for a moment before returning her
attention to the road. “I’ll pass. I’ve never been one for gaming.”
“Well, you’re missing out.”
“Mm hmm.”
“Yep.” He then looked over at Siyuakén. “Hey, are we there yet?”
5 Minutes Later
“Me, a Transfer Captain, getting bullied around by two
Lieutenants. It’s ridiculous. How am I supposed to know where
we are? I was just sitting there, trying not to annoy everyone with my boredom,
and now…”
Siyuakén tuned out Kevérin’s mumblings as he grasped the steering
device. She then turned to look at Kaoné in the back seat, who seemed to be
preoccupied with staring at the surrounding desert. “Bored?”
“Huh?” Kaoné glanced over at the Electrotechnic.
“I asked if you were bored,” Siyuakén reiterated.
“Oh. Well, yeah… there’s nothing to do.”
“Why not play Dessert Destruction?” Kevérin suggested, “Hell, you introduced it
to me!”
“That…” Siyuakén frowned, “that sounds like a–“
“Awesome game,” Kevérin interrupted.
Siyuakén nodded patronizingly. “…Yeah. That’s totally what I was about
to say. ...Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the road?”
The Pyrotechnic began grumbling again, but nevertheless turned away
from the conversation.
“Aren’t you bored?” Kaoné questioned, “you don’t even
have glasses. You couldn’t distract yourself if you wanted.”
“I’ve never needed to,” the Electrotechnic replied, “I don’t go on road
trips. A lot of travel I did back in Relédiaka was through the trees, anyway –
you shouldn’t be ‘distracting yourself’ when swinging through the forest.”
“True.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Hey, Kaoné… can I ask you a question?”
“Huh? Yeah, what is it?”
“Is there…” Siyuakén glanced at Kevérin and then frowned. “…Never mind.
I’ll ask later.”
Kevérin looked over at her suspiciously. “What, you got a problem with
me?”
“Shush,” the Electrotechnic retorted, “You should pay attention to the
road.”
“I am paying attention to the road. The road is
a straight line. There’s not a lot to pay attention to.”
“Well… are we there yet?” Siyuakén asked cheekily.
“Actually… we might be.”
“What–?” she turned to stare out into the distance at the horizon. She
could see a faint speck in the distance, but as time passed, it seemed to grow.
“…Well, I see something,” Siyuakén commented, “but how do you know
it’s Davídrius’s compound?”
“What else could it be in the middle of nowhere?” Kevérin snorted.
“Unless you’re certain, we should approach carefully. Even if you
aren’t certain, we should approach carefully…”
“Carefully? What for? We’re in the middle of a desert! I don’t see any
potential traps or ambushes.”
“They wouldn’t be traps or ambushes if you could see them.”
“My point is that there’s nowhere to hide in a
desert.”
“That’s what you think, but the Tresédians have been born and raised in
this environment. They’re bound to have some sort of trap or ambush tactic that
works especially well in the desert. Especially on unsuspecting outsiders like
us…”
“Alright… I’ll be more careful,” Kevérin nodded, slowing the vehicle to
a more manageable speed, “It’ll take more time now, but we should still be
there in a few minutes.”
“Good,” Siyuakén nodded back, and turned to Kaoné. “Make sure to keep
watch for traps–“
BAM! BANG!
“Gah–!” Kevérin exclaimed as the vehicle suddenly flipped over due to
some unseen explosive. But before it came crashing down to the ground, Kaoné
seized control, froze the vehicle in mid-air, spun it around upright, and then
deposited it back on the ground.
“Uagh–!” Siyuakén doubled over in her seat, the sudden motions of the
vehicle catching her by utter surprise. “Ah… Kaoné, you…”
“Uh, guys…”
Kaoné and Siyuakén glanced over at Kevérin before slowly looking around
themselves. No less than five levitating autoturrets had their guns trained on
the three Chaotics, and standing some distance away was a large mechanized
infantry, staring down at the vehicle as if it were an impassable sentry.
“Looks like you were right about the trap thing…” Kevérin admitted
quietly.
“Of course I am…” Siyuakén sighed.
Any further conversation was cut short as the mech’s loudspeakers
flipped on. “What are you doing here?”
“Wow, his voice is really deep,” Kaoné commented in response to the
pilot’s question.
“He doesn’t know we’re Chaotics,” Kevérin muttered, “Well – he should
know one of us is, since Kaoné flipped the vehicle. But – Siyuakén, how quickly
would you be able to take out the autoturrets?”
“You want to fight? Already?” the Electrotechnic hissed.
“I don’t want to, but if it comes down to it, better
to have a plan than not. Can you?”
“…I could probably fry all five before they open fire. I don’t know if
that mech has anything in store though–“
“I asked, what are you doing here?”
The three Chaotics looked up at the mech as it removed a large gun from
its back and trained it on their vehicle.
“Uh… what should we say?” Kaoné asked hurriedly.
“…Might as well go for the truth,” Kevérin commented, “If things go
bad, you two know what to do.”
Siyuakén glanced between the Pyro and Materiatechnic uneasily.
“Wait, we do–?”
By the time she asked, however, Kevérin had already jumped out of the
vehicle, his hands in the air. “We didn’t come here to attack you!” he shouted,
“We’re just looking for someone. Do you know, um… Davídrius… Wrikax?”
A moment of silence passed before the mech pilot responded, “I might.
Usually only bandits and thieves lookin’ for that guy though.”
“We aren’t thieves!” Kaoné spontaneously exclaimed.
“…All of y’all, out of the vehicle,” the pilot demanded. Kaoné and
Siyuakén quickly complied, getting out and standing next to Kevérin. “Now…” the
pilot continued, “…what do you want with Davídrius?”
“It’s not something we can tell just anyone,” Kevérin replied, “We’ve
got an offer for him, sorta.”
“You aren’t the first to have said that. Every other time the dealers
turned out to be Bleeders.”
“Bleeders?” Kevérin and Siyuakén snickered.
“The Bleeder gang ain’t nothin’ to laugh about,” the pilot stated, “But
of course y’all wouldn’t know that. Foreigners think Treséd’s just a joke, why
should they be concerned with how actually dangerous the
national gangs are so long as they stay on this shithole continent, am I
right?”
“Uh.” Kevérin glanced over at Siyuakén and Kaoné uneasily. They both
shrugged confusedly in response. Turning back toward the mech, the Pyrotechnic
asked, “By any chance, um… are you Davídrius?”
“…And if I was?”
“You’re not doing a very good job of hiding it,” Siyuakén commented.
Immediately each of the autoturrets began whirring. “I still don’t know
who y’all are, and I’m startin’ to think that you really aren’t worth my time.
You’ve got ten seconds to come up with a good reason for why I should listen to
y’all before you become just another random group of intruders that I
caught on a bad day!”
“He’s not going to listen to us…” Kaoné frowned.
“Time to show him we mean business, then,” Kevérin declared, “Siyuakén,
take out the autoturrets. Kaoné, seize the mech. Three, two, one, go–!”
Before the pilot had managed to count down to three, Siyuakén raised
her arm into the air and simultaneously zapped all five autoturrets, frying
them. Kevérin then set to incinerating their remains as Kaoné obliterated the
mech’s gun before forcing it to stand stock still.
“Do you want to listen to us now?” Kevérin shouted triumphantly.
The pilot didn’t respond. Instead, the members of Hero Machina heard a
distant clanging noise, and then saw a metal plate fall to the ground behind
the mech, followed by what appeared to be the pilot. After rolling to a stop on
the ground, he stood up, turned around to stare at the Chaotics… and then
disappeared, kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Wait, he’s–!” Siyuakén exclaimed, but was unable to finish her
sentence. All three Chaotics were unable to properly respond before a virtually
unseen force bashed them all along the back of their heads, knocking them
unconscious.
*
* *
“Oooooh… my head…”
Kaoné slowly and painfully pulled herself up into a sitting position.
She rubbed her head tenderly as she began looking around at her surroundings: a
small cell, partitioned off from a slightly larger room by several metal bars.
With her in the cell were Kevérin and Siyuakén, both of whom appeared to be
coming to as well; sitting on a bench outside the cell, next to a solid metal
door, was a young man with a dark complexion and long hair tied back into a
ponytail.
When he noticed the three Chaotics coming to he stood up, the two metal
boxes strapped to his sides rattling slightly and then banging on the bench. He
stopped momentarily to glare at the boxes before placing his hands cautiously
on the handles extending out the boxes’ front and then turning to face the
cell.
“…Davídrius?” Kaoné questioned.
“…That’s me, aye,” he eventually nodded.
“Pretty short-sighted, just throwing us in here without any bounds,
even while knowing we’re Chaotics,” Kevérin stated.
“I assume you haven’t tried using your powers,” Davídrius deadpanned.
“…He’s right,” Siyuakén admitted, “I can’t do anything.”
“Well, shit,” Kevérin scowled as he attempted to create a fireball in
his palm but failed. He turned back to glare at Davídrius. “Is this a CENT
field? How the hell did you get your hands on one of those?”
Their captor crossed his arms and smirked condescendingly. “It’s just
one of the pieces of ‘junk’ that you Tekdecénians decided to dump off the coast
somewhere. One of the Bleeders picked it up, and then I so graciously acquired
it from them.”
“What?...” Kevérin frowned, “But… Tekdecé doesn’t–“
“Hah! As if you know what you’re talking about. You’re from Tekdecé
yourself, aren’t you, Transfer Captain."
“You know who we are?” Siyuakén asked uneasily.
“No, but I can recognize your uniforms and insignia,” Davídrius stated,
“The two of you are Lieutenants. He outranks you, so I’m guessing he’s the
leader of whatever retarded little troupe y’all are running.”
Kaoné
and Siyuakén glanced at each other. “It’s debatable whether or not he’s
actually leading us…” Kaoné commented, ignoring the quick glare Kevérin threw
her direction.
“Well ain’t this just grand. Three Chaotics, each from a different
nation travelling in the middle of Treséd, and the guy who’s actually the
highest rank by international military law ain’t even leadin’? What, are y’all
AWOL or somethin’?”
“I
was getting the idea you didn’t like Tekdecénians. Now you’re complaining that
I’m not in charge?” Kevérin scowled, “Which is it?”
Davídrius turned toward Kevérin, his face stoically condescending… until
he broke into a self-amused smirk. “Aw, I’m just screwin’ with you, keheheh.” Then
he frowned. “Well, sort of. I do have issues with Tekdecé, but
mister Transfer Captain here is too green behind the ears to be a part of
that.”
“We’re all the same age here…” Kaoné commented.
“Doesn’t mean shit,” Davídrius scowled, “I’ll bet the three of you have
lived nice, sheltered little lives. Well, try growing up in Treséd. This place
doesn’t give a shit how old you are. I was hitting Mach 2 and practicing with
Sword Boxes before the lot of you had even hit puberty, because I had to.
You laugh at the goddamn Bleeders, but to Tresédians, they’re an actual threat.
What’s more is they’re only a threat ‘cause the rest of Nimalia
just doesn’t give a shit about this hellhole of a continent.”
“…Sounds… pretty bad,” Siyuakén replied.
Davídrius glared at her. “Don’t patronize me.” He then took a deep
breath and exhaled wearily before turning back to Kevérin. “…Alright, I think
we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s start from the top. I’m Davídrius Wrikax.
Y’all are…?”
“…Kevérin Tyrion.”
“Kaoné Densalin.”
“I’m Siyuakén Wanléon.”
“Kevérin… Kaoné… Siyuakén… ‘k. Alright then. What was this ‘deal’ you
wanted to offer me?”
“We’re still behind bars…” Kevérin frowned.
“And you’ll stay that way until I’ve decided that you aren’t actually
Bleeders or crazies,” Davídrius asserted.
“You’re still not sure?” Kevérin scowled again, “You
sounded certain that we were from the continent-nations before!”
“You– just shut up and tell me about this deal of yours.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if it’s still open to you.”
“Kevérin,” Kaoné cut in, “…maybe if we explain who we are and what
we’re doing, he’ll change his mind.”
“Now there’s an idea,” Davídrius nodded, “I’m a Superspeed
Introtechnic. I don’t have much patience.”
Kevérin glanced over at Kaoné and Siyuakén before sighing. “Alright,
fine. So, we’re part of a group called Hipster Memorandum–“
“Kevérin.”
“–Hero Machina,” he corrected himself before throwing the two
girls a quick glare. “Anyways, Nimaliaka and Tekdecé are joining together to
form the Nimalian Systems Defense, a non-national organization that will take
over all extra-solar activity.”
“And you want me to join to be your token little Tresédian, is that
it?”
“You really do have a chip on your shoulder, don’t you,” Siyuakén
deadpanned.
“…Tch,” Davídrius scowled, “Y’all aren’t doing a very good job of
convincing me to join you.”
“The NSD is only just getting off the ground!” Kevérin exclaimed, “Just
think – if you join us, you could say you’ve been around since its inception!”
“I’m not going to join your little circus show if the only reason I’m
wanted is so I can be trotted in front of the galactic community as
an ‘example’ of how non-discriminatory the NSD is,” Davídrius
snorted, “Give me a real reason and I’ll think about it.”
“Our mission is to investigate the Chaos Energy Quake,” Kaoné offered.
“…See, now that’s interesting, you could’ve just said that,” Davídrius
glanced at Kevérin. When the Pyrotechnic turned away in annoyance, the Tresédian
turned back to Kaoné. “I guess that’s why you came to look for me, then, huh.”
“That’s it exactly,” Kaoné nodded.
“So the three of you were born during the Quake, too?”
They all nodded in response.
“Hmm, not bad…” Davídrius mused, “Your Chaotic types aren’t too shabby
either… Pyrotechnic… Electrotechnic… Telepathic Extratechnic.”
“Actually, I’m a Materiatechnic,” Kaoné corrected.
Davídrius stared at her, dumbfounded. “…No way. Really? Why the hell’d
you let someone like me get the drop on you then–?”
He was interrupted as a man stormed into the room. He immediately
turned his attention to Davídrius, exclaiming, “The Bleeders are outside!”
“What–!?” The Introtechnic spun on his heel to face the man in the
doorway, “…is Strén leading them?”
“He is.”
“Damn.” Davídrius snapped his fingers in frustration, “…Alright. I’ll
be up there in a bit. Head up the defenses, make sure everything’s primed and
everyone who isn’t a fighter stays inside.”
The three caged members of HM watched as the man dashed out as quickly
as he had entered, leaving Davídrius to begin rummaging around in his pocket.
“What’s going on?...” Siyuakén asked.
“What’s it sound like?” the Introtechnic retorted, “The Bleeders have
shown up. They’re lead by the most dangerous Chaotic on this shithole
continent. Excepting myself, of course.”
“…So you’re letting us go?” Kaoné questioned as Davídrius stepped up to
the cell door and unlocked it with the keys he just found.
“No, I’m bringing you to help out,” he corrected, “If y’all can help
push back the Bleeders, maybe even follow ‘em back to their base and crush ‘em
once and for all, I’ll consider joining you. Otherwise I got a compound to
protect, and as interesting as this Quake investigation sounds, my home takes
priority.” He then stopped to glance back at the three Chaotics. “Y’all gonna
help?”
“No–“
“Yes,” Siyuakén cut Kevérin off, “…we’ll help. For now.”
“Good,” Davídrius smirked, “Follow me. Let’s see what the bastard
spouts out this time…”
* * * * *
* * * * *
Data Entry: Chaos Energy Negation Technology (CENT)
If at any point a certain technology becomes widely used by many people, there will inevitably be a group who decides to produce or research a piece of technology capable of rendering the former tech useless (e.g. Electromagnetic Pulses (EMP) to knock out electronics). The wide-spread usage of Chaos Energy is not exempt from this trend – militaries and other entities the galaxy over employ the use of Chaos Energy Negation Technology, commonly abbreviated and known as CENT. The primary purpose of CENT is to act as a countermeasure against Chaotics – that is, to prevent Chaotics from using their powers. CENT is also used to disable Chaos Energy-based technology, but this is difficult to do as most Chaos Energy-based technology sits in spacecraft, which are difficult to cover in a CENT field.
A CENT field is the volume around a CENT device in which Chaos Energy is negated. The size of almost all CENT fields can only be measured on the order of meters simply because Chaos Energy is such an ever-present resource. Because of this, CENT is not as viable for disabling space-borne technology since the device would have to somehow be transported onto the enemy ship, which is not possible with current galactic technology; not in the midst of battle, at least. CENT fields are mostly used to trap Chaotics and force them down to the level of normal beings. Even seemingly all-powerful Chaotics, such as Chaostechnics, Materiatechnics, or Navitastechanics, are brought down to their natural vulnerable state inside of a CENT field. As such, there are few things a Chaotic fears more than being trapped in one.
Of course, since CENT fields are produced by inherently electrical devices, the field can be shut down by setting off a localized EMP. This would overload the field generator, thus allowing Chaos Energy to return to the location. Nowadays almost all Chaotics – especially those involved in military operations – carry around one or two EMP grenades that they can use to quickly escape a CENT field. The grenades are purely reactive, however, so it is still very possible to trap Chaotics using CENT fields.
No comments:
Post a Comment