The low moan of high speed propulsion motors building up their power to a scream rattled around Doc's head as he and Wyatt charged across the sands of Soliko zone. The pair had been out checking out reports of a Fallen Angel reconnaissance glider in the area and it appeared thus far that the reports had been correct. Even now Doc could see flooding through his RPOS, reports of the Soliko defence systems activating as the Early Warning radars had picked up various gliders in the vicinity of the OP and were activating countermeasures, in the form of a rocket barrage. However it seemed that these Fallen Angels were a little more prepared for this foray. A shower of countermeasures of their own had flooded the sky around them, both radiation clouds to block signal locks and also physical clouds of chaff which glittered in the sunlight. The two men had no choice but to pop all of their drugs and high-tail it back to the Lab to call for reinforcements. For the Fallen Angels to deploy such a weapon so close to a Syndicate OP meant only one thing. Trouble. What the pair didn't realise was that this one fight would last for 5 days and be one of the defining moments of their careers.
In various minds and communications units across the Crahn Sect beepers beeped, lights flashed and monitors rumbled into life as their attention getters attempted to contact their relevant masters to receive the mayday signal flashing out over the web from Soliko Lab. As a dozen pairs of eyes alerted a dozen minds so the various men and women of the Crahn Syndicate arose from their sleep or put aside whatever else they were doing to wait for their leaders call. So with typical booming authority Rabbi Fang read and digested the short message received from one of his most trusted lieutenants and dispersed his orders to the watch of the day. “To Soliko – with all haste”.
Wyatt and Doc hit the outer perimeter fence of the Lab at almost the same moment. With a swift kick Doc kicked open the gate and the pair ran in as the ground behind them was torn asunder by automatic weapons from a Doy Assault Glider which had circled above them. Ascending the ladders in unison the pair charged forth like men possessed, seeing the Underground Entrance only 100m away. However that small distance might as well have been over a mile with the two Assault Gliders even now turning around to commence bombing runs. Leapfrogging one another and taking it in turns to fire off bursts of small arms the pair crossed the ground with care, avoiding lancing tracer rounds as they went. Small mercy was provided by the second barrage of rockets launched from the automated defences but these were silenced with ease by a burst of cannon fire aimed at their targeting radar. Still the few precious seconds it brought were enough for the pair to slip into the underground sanctity to await the arrival of their battle brothers and sisters.
The first to arrive was Heavy Load, one of the younger Gen-Tanks in the Clan, the only thing bigger than his mouth was his cannon which he wielded with some keen ferocity. Shaking off the familiar jumbled confusion in his thoughts he strode over to the Lab control room and activated the hidden cameras that the Crahn Syndicate had had recently installed to get an idea of numbers of Fallen Angels at the OP. He snarled. It was not good news. Along with Fallen Angels it seemed that the Tsunami Syndicate had chosen to involve themselves in this particular fracas. Heavy counted at least a dozen of each, noting Xantor and LuckyLuck among them. He reported this in to Fang and awaited further instructions.
Choosing his words carefully so as not to have any would be interceptors interpret his message Fang encoded a report to some contacts within Black Dragon. To anyone reading the message it would appear as more religious rhetoric being released by Crahn. Nothing to worry about. However when it found its way to the inbox of a small handful of Black Dragon operatives the message was received with grim news. It prepared them for war.
One by one more of the Syndicate brethren arrived through the GR. Kid Twist and Kid Blast were first, followed by Lord Abdul, Reple and Wolfcraft. Father Tanus was next with Alucard and Dracula. The backbone of the Syndicate's offensive fire power was made complete with S.W, Kid Kapow and Clare. Last but by no means least came GI Fukwit and Lee D'Mellow. Tanus began issuing orders and buffing the various warriors. Naturally the Monks gravitated to one corner with their own kind and began to make their plans to move individually, naturally dividing into APU/PPU teams.
Doc paced the room nervously. Even a veteran of the hundreds of battles he had now been witness too did not stop the anticipation ahead of a big fight. Normally he could listen to Poppa Doc and earn his counsel but the old man was nowhere to be found currently. Nor would he be seen anywhere near such an engagement, he was a scientist as he often reminded his clan mates. So he turned to Wyatt but he was already going through his own pre battle rituals, disassembling his plasma pistols and putting both of them back together just to make sure that each would work as he needed them too in the fight to come. At the foot of the ladder out of the UG he saw Kid Kapow cocking his own rifle as Father Tanus buffed him and then he vanished into a blue cloud as the inner door opened a fraction before he slipped outside for an initial scouting of the situation above. The cameras by now had been found and disabled or else bypassed in the last few minutes as the Fallen Angels had begun their hacking by disabling the outer security of the OP.
Minutes later Kapow returned, his armour alight and scorched with plasma and laser burns criss crossing. “They are bombarding the UG entrance with AOE” he coughed as Father Tanus quickly put a Holy Shelter onto him to smother the flames. Using Doombeamer Ray Cannon rounds and Moonstriker rockets against the underground portal door was a popular tactic at the time. It served to combat against stealthing units such as Spies. In this particular engagement it was effective.
Within moments however the Syndicate shock troops were on the move. Their blood was up and the first wave, led by Father Tanus; ascended from the depths. Screaming and bellowing their multitude of battle cries the unit burst forth from the gateway as if the hounds of hell were chasing them. Lightning flashed and laser cannons bit their marks as plasma bolts filled the sky and metal crashed and smashed against metal as the two sides met. As was their doctrine the Monks formed a wave of red and blue power armour washing straight through the middle of the Fallen Angels and Tsunami lines dividing them there. Wrists snapped and fingers swirled as new modules were loaded to rebuff wounded troops. Ammunition clips were ejected and discarded as methodically and mechanically as a machine production line as the Tanks locked horns like rutting Stags in their own fight for dominance.
At the pinnacle of this wave emerged Doc with Wyatt in front of him. Grabbing the door in his hand Wyatt flung it open wide and Doc rolled out to the left with Kate, his Pain Easer, already in his shoulder singing her sorrowful lament. His rounds found their mark against a Fallen Angels Monk who merely smiled at him and recast his own heal. However it was Doc's turn to laugh moments later when the same Monk was forced to run for his life, desperately attempting to rebuff his own shields courtesy of a Holy Antibuff from Kid Blast.
“Good show” came the throaty chuckle resonating in his mind. Looking up instinctively to try to work out where the old Monk was Doc swore he could see the bright red eyes smiling in the dark recess of his hood.
The UG door opened for one final time a few moments later and out of it came the unmistakable barrel of a Ray of Last Hope. Taking aim at its target the first whoosh of air superheated as the blue rays slammed into their target. A Tsunami Tank was rocked on his feet as he struggled to bring his Laser Cannon to bear upon this new threat. However no sooner had he brought the huge cannon around in its deadly arc before jet black figure of Rabbi Fang had already vanished into the maelstrom of battle.
The exhilarating rush of narcotics in his system combined with the sudden flash of daylight and the enveloping warmth of Father Tanus's Holy Shelter and Kid Twist's Holy Deflector made Rabbi Fang feel nothing short of godlike. Picking his targets with ease he practically danced through the crowds of warriors all about him and pounding shots into the faceless armour plates of these hulking monstrosities who had railed against him and were even now violating holy ground. He had given them one chance to surrender their arms the day he left the Fallen Angels and Tech Haven generally. From that day on they were the heathens. He would bring them redemption and cleanse their souls one at a time through fire and through faith if he had to. Today was the day of one of his most famous sermons. Having cleansed one unbeliever already he felt the carcass drop forwards as he lowered it down in front of him, its head now a smoking ruin. No point defiling the body when the soul was now released. He moved through the crowd like a swan gliding across the water. Checking his ammo count in the corner of his RPOS he slotted in a fresh clip and reset the with just a blink of an eye. Selecting his next target he rounded the corner of the Hack Terminal and found a Spy there midhack. Levelling his weapon and feeling the faint drumming of rain from behind him he unloaded everything he had in the clip into the back of the Spy's head. The woman slumped forwards, her head too a crisp ruin where once armour and even the faint tinge of blonde hair used to be. The rain drops beat louder on his consciousness now as he whirled in slow motion finding another Gen-Tank hulking in the doorway behind him. GraveDigger. Oh how they had had some battles over the last few months. Fang surged forwards now realising that the rain which was beating down on him was actually the pock pock pock of the big Tanks Speedgun emptying onto his Holy Deflector. Sliding down on his knees like a baseball player running in for home he produced his Liberator sub-machine gun from his belt and pointed both weapons at the Tank now towering over him. Depressing both triggers simultaneously he managed a feat of superhuman concentration and kept both weapons trained on their target as he slipped away underneath the big Tank and then watched in satisfaction as his armour began to smoke and he knelt, like a toppling building – mortally wounded.
One knee wrecked completely and the other burning with small shards of phosphorescent lead working their way deeper like parasites GraveDigger called out to someone for a heal but Fang was too quick. Rising to his feet he formed a crucifix with his Ray of Last Hope at one end pointed at GraveDigger and his Liberator outstretched in the other palm chattering its own lament at the Monk coming to his aid. From across the battlefield Reple saw his leader dissecting the Tsunami lines and managed to hurl a Holy Antibuff of his own at the Monk and as it connected he watched with grim delight as the phosphorous 8mm rounds did their work. Checking the accuracy meter in his RPOS he smiled '100%'. Sensing a weakness in the enemy lines the pack whirled and circled and almost at the same moment as Tanus called out the Tanks name all of the aggressive Monks descended upon him. Holy Lightning blast after Holy Lightning blast rained down upon his carapace and it was only through the quick thinking of PowerPunsh who had climbed up on top of the Hack Term building to rain more Moonstriker rockets onto the ascending Monks that GraveDigger managed to survive for a few minutes longer.
Growling his dismay Fang gestured to PowerPunsh, one of the strongest most respected warriors of R2K to come down and face him one vs one on the field below. PowerPunsh merely beat his chest in defiance and Fang roared and rose to meet him instead.
The swirling battle raged below as Doc tried in vain to get to the Hack Terminal building to no avail. There was no way through the crowd. He watched Rabbi Fang locked in brutal combat but could not engage for fear of hitting his friend and leader.
Fang whirled and danced with the grace of a gazelle but PowerPunsh aimed his Cursed Soul down at the floor where he expected Fang to land and more often than not he dealt the smaller man a vicious blow. For each blow he landed however Fang would counter, it was almost as though his reticle was glued to the bigger man's face and all he had to do was pull the trigger. Using his weight and maneuverability he dodged, feinted and parried blows and countered with short bursts of his own. Rounds flashed around each of their feet as the two drained their stamina boosters one by one and then searched for more in their quickbelts. Neither wanted to give an inch and neither would accept quarter.
