StrIntFire - Unfortunately not an esper.
"Abjuration" arc scorcher.
Scorchers are extremely rare and expensive type of weapons. Standing wave generated by the emitter, creates the virtual electrode on the way to the target, through which then pierces the high-temperature electric arc.
Moreover, this one is unique - it has been designed and created in a single copy by a man called the Alchemist, who also created the Glacier sword and the Grin Reaper scythe.
As I promised, here‘s the story. It’s also a spin-off to the [ECHO] storyline. Hope you’ll like it.
He went straight to the bar when came in. Pulled out a dark bottle of bourbon from a secret compartment, with a practiced movement poured a half of a glass, felt it, and drank in one gulp. The noise in the head, that persistently harassed him all day, retreated for a little.
Poured himself another glass, he went to the central room. Perfectly circular, with a lot of sofas, surrounded by glass walls, he loved to watch the sky of Mars through the windows
But now… something was wrong here. Anxiety ran through his spine as a cool wave. He put the glass on the nearest table and engaged all his feelings, trying to understand what bothers him.
And then he suddenly realized.
A man stood still in the middle of the room.
"He was here all the time? Why didn’t I noticed it?" Thoughts raced swiftly across his mind.
Split second later he recognized stranger’s garment. Light black robe of nanosilk that let you move quietly and silently. Only the members of the Assassin’s Guild dressed like that. And it seems like today he was their goal.
An Assassin’s Guild is a very powerful organization on Mars. Moreover, in one and a half a century of its existence, it have grown enough to build their own Dome city. Interestingly, no one tried to actively discourage activities of the Guild. In contrast, most of political organizations actively used its services, because if you need someone to get someone down, you can be sure for a hundred percent – nobody could do it better than the Guild. Mostly because the Guild always eliminated or absorbed all other organizations of mercenaries or assassins in advance. So – you pay – they play. And they always worked off their bounties. Another interesting fact is that the Guild has it’s own Code of honor, the violation of which is punishable by heavy fines, and, in particularly severe cases, even by death. However, there were only two such cases so far. Thus, the Code guaranteed to the client (as the Guild calls it’s victims) a comfortable withdrawal from life, as well as respectful attitude towards the body after client’s death. So if you suddenly died in your very own bed, you can be sure that the appropriate authorities already notified and all the taxes are paid already. But given the right circumstances, according to the Code, the client even has a right to know the amount of bounty for his head.
And he knew it.
Black figure drew a pistol from the folds of garments with a honed movement and directed it in his head. All this happened with no sound at all.
- According to your Code, I have a right to know the amount of the bounty, - he uttered hardly.
All time figure was slipping as out not only of his sight, but out of his mind. Somehow, his brain kept forgetting that someone standing in front of him, so he had to re-focus on the night visitor again and again.
After a half second soft, insinuating, and – that was unusual for the Guild – a woman's voice said:
- Three billion credits.
Not bad, but they could ask for more, he thought. After all, to get here, she probably had to kill all the guards, which was more than three hundreds in this five-storey building, and get through the most perfect security system.
- Gold, palladium, iridium? - He specified.
- All of it. - the response came from somewhere in the boundaries of consciousness. He concentrated on the soft glow of the pistol’s body. And suddenly he recognized it.
- Isn’t it an Alchemist scorcher, by the way? - He asked.
- Yes. – She answered somehow very quitly.
- Is this old madman still alive? - He asked again.
- No. - She said stonily. – For how long you planning to ask questions?
- Last one. - He said - I know, the Guild doesn’t accept ransoms, but you should studied me when you took the contract, you should know that I have a lot more. Moreover, I have some power, I still a prominent people in politics. Maybe I can do something for you, personally? - He asked cautiously, continuing to focus on the deliquescent guest.
In the darkness of assassin’s hood for no reason at all two bright copper colored eyes flashed suddenly.
- I need to get on Nibiru. – Her every word fell like blades on a soft pillow. He realized that there is no way out for him anymore. Everyone dreamed about Nibiru, but for two centuries only a one and a half of a dozen of martians was counted worthy by niberians to pass on their planet. He shook his head.
- I'm sorry, but no one on this planet has such power. You should know by yourself – each immigrant must have been unanimously approved by the niberian Council. And there, they say, if no gods sit there, but the local Buddhas for sure. They cannot be blackmailed, and they catching all the illegal immigrants and send them back to Mars in the ultrafast capsule. Not the most pleasant way to travel, I must say.
The girl nodded. She had a chance to meet with such "illegal." He almost get crazy after this flight, but he constantly told to the everyone whom he met the stories about the impassable jungles, azure seas and kilometer-high trees. Later he became to known as an Alchemist. But this is not important. These stories captured her mind in the childhood. But not only the stories.
He took off the table a glass of bourbon and overturned it in himself, but didn’t felt any taste or smell. Then he turned to his guest.
- Do what you must, assassin. – He said absently.
Thin blue lightning pierced the room with a quiet rustle and thrust in his head. Instant death. The girl picked up his falling body and sat him on a chair. Her fingers closed his eyes gently.
She slowly approached the window and opened it. Fifth floor – not a problem for a member of the Guild. Nor the hundredth, though.
A minute later she was near the gateway of the Dome city. She got through the one of the loopholes only known by her and finally climbed out and breathed in the cool night air of Mars. This was made possible by the partial terraforming, now there is +30 by celsium in the day and -10 at night. But still not all the humans were able to breath martian air. But she could, and the rest wasn't important for her.
Deimos raised over the horizon. An assassin took the course quickly and easily ran across the red dunes, that almost haven't crumbled under her steps.
And during the run she allowed her thoughts to go back to dreaming about Nibiru.
She remembered when the niberians flew here. And she remembered the girl with fiery red hair and golden eyes. She remembered a radiant halo around her head, which only she was able to see, as it turned out later. And she remembered as the girl just touched the ground, grabbed her head, fell to the ground and screamed. Screaming, she repeated the two words in an unknown language. These words, the horror in wide opened eyes of the redhead girl... All this firmly etched in her mind.
Later she learned the meaning of this words.
Dead planet. Dead planet. Dead planet.
She never saw this niberian girl again. But the desire to meet again the shining goddess from another planet forever settled in her mind tightly.
"By all means"
She was running toward the horizon.
"I'll get on Nibiru"
Credits to SPW.
If you read the story, please, leave a comment :) And thank you!
"Abjuration" arc scorcher.
Scorchers are extremely rare and expensive type of weapons. Standing wave generated by the emitter, creates the virtual electrode on the way to the target, through which then pierces the high-temperature electric arc.
Moreover, this one is unique - it has been designed and created in a single copy by a man called the Alchemist, who also created the Glacier sword and the Grin Reaper scythe.
As I promised, here‘s the story. It’s also a spin-off to the [ECHO] storyline. Hope you’ll like it.
He went straight to the bar when came in. Pulled out a dark bottle of bourbon from a secret compartment, with a practiced movement poured a half of a glass, felt it, and drank in one gulp. The noise in the head, that persistently harassed him all day, retreated for a little.
Poured himself another glass, he went to the central room. Perfectly circular, with a lot of sofas, surrounded by glass walls, he loved to watch the sky of Mars through the windows
But now… something was wrong here. Anxiety ran through his spine as a cool wave. He put the glass on the nearest table and engaged all his feelings, trying to understand what bothers him.
And then he suddenly realized.
A man stood still in the middle of the room.
"He was here all the time? Why didn’t I noticed it?" Thoughts raced swiftly across his mind.
Split second later he recognized stranger’s garment. Light black robe of nanosilk that let you move quietly and silently. Only the members of the Assassin’s Guild dressed like that. And it seems like today he was their goal.
An Assassin’s Guild is a very powerful organization on Mars. Moreover, in one and a half a century of its existence, it have grown enough to build their own Dome city. Interestingly, no one tried to actively discourage activities of the Guild. In contrast, most of political organizations actively used its services, because if you need someone to get someone down, you can be sure for a hundred percent – nobody could do it better than the Guild. Mostly because the Guild always eliminated or absorbed all other organizations of mercenaries or assassins in advance. So – you pay – they play. And they always worked off their bounties. Another interesting fact is that the Guild has it’s own Code of honor, the violation of which is punishable by heavy fines, and, in particularly severe cases, even by death. However, there were only two such cases so far. Thus, the Code guaranteed to the client (as the Guild calls it’s victims) a comfortable withdrawal from life, as well as respectful attitude towards the body after client’s death. So if you suddenly died in your very own bed, you can be sure that the appropriate authorities already notified and all the taxes are paid already. But given the right circumstances, according to the Code, the client even has a right to know the amount of bounty for his head.
And he knew it.
Black figure drew a pistol from the folds of garments with a honed movement and directed it in his head. All this happened with no sound at all.
- According to your Code, I have a right to know the amount of the bounty, - he uttered hardly.
All time figure was slipping as out not only of his sight, but out of his mind. Somehow, his brain kept forgetting that someone standing in front of him, so he had to re-focus on the night visitor again and again.
After a half second soft, insinuating, and – that was unusual for the Guild – a woman's voice said:
- Three billion credits.
Not bad, but they could ask for more, he thought. After all, to get here, she probably had to kill all the guards, which was more than three hundreds in this five-storey building, and get through the most perfect security system.
- Gold, palladium, iridium? - He specified.
- All of it. - the response came from somewhere in the boundaries of consciousness. He concentrated on the soft glow of the pistol’s body. And suddenly he recognized it.
- Isn’t it an Alchemist scorcher, by the way? - He asked.
- Yes. – She answered somehow very quitly.
- Is this old madman still alive? - He asked again.
- No. - She said stonily. – For how long you planning to ask questions?
- Last one. - He said - I know, the Guild doesn’t accept ransoms, but you should studied me when you took the contract, you should know that I have a lot more. Moreover, I have some power, I still a prominent people in politics. Maybe I can do something for you, personally? - He asked cautiously, continuing to focus on the deliquescent guest.
In the darkness of assassin’s hood for no reason at all two bright copper colored eyes flashed suddenly.
- I need to get on Nibiru. – Her every word fell like blades on a soft pillow. He realized that there is no way out for him anymore. Everyone dreamed about Nibiru, but for two centuries only a one and a half of a dozen of martians was counted worthy by niberians to pass on their planet. He shook his head.
- I'm sorry, but no one on this planet has such power. You should know by yourself – each immigrant must have been unanimously approved by the niberian Council. And there, they say, if no gods sit there, but the local Buddhas for sure. They cannot be blackmailed, and they catching all the illegal immigrants and send them back to Mars in the ultrafast capsule. Not the most pleasant way to travel, I must say.
The girl nodded. She had a chance to meet with such "illegal." He almost get crazy after this flight, but he constantly told to the everyone whom he met the stories about the impassable jungles, azure seas and kilometer-high trees. Later he became to known as an Alchemist. But this is not important. These stories captured her mind in the childhood. But not only the stories.
He took off the table a glass of bourbon and overturned it in himself, but didn’t felt any taste or smell. Then he turned to his guest.
- Do what you must, assassin. – He said absently.
Thin blue lightning pierced the room with a quiet rustle and thrust in his head. Instant death. The girl picked up his falling body and sat him on a chair. Her fingers closed his eyes gently.
She slowly approached the window and opened it. Fifth floor – not a problem for a member of the Guild. Nor the hundredth, though.
A minute later she was near the gateway of the Dome city. She got through the one of the loopholes only known by her and finally climbed out and breathed in the cool night air of Mars. This was made possible by the partial terraforming, now there is +30 by celsium in the day and -10 at night. But still not all the humans were able to breath martian air. But she could, and the rest wasn't important for her.
Deimos raised over the horizon. An assassin took the course quickly and easily ran across the red dunes, that almost haven't crumbled under her steps.
And during the run she allowed her thoughts to go back to dreaming about Nibiru.
She remembered when the niberians flew here. And she remembered the girl with fiery red hair and golden eyes. She remembered a radiant halo around her head, which only she was able to see, as it turned out later. And she remembered as the girl just touched the ground, grabbed her head, fell to the ground and screamed. Screaming, she repeated the two words in an unknown language. These words, the horror in wide opened eyes of the redhead girl... All this firmly etched in her mind.
Later she learned the meaning of this words.
Dead planet. Dead planet. Dead planet.
She never saw this niberian girl again. But the desire to meet again the shining goddess from another planet forever settled in her mind tightly.
"By all means"
She was running toward the horizon.
"I'll get on Nibiru"
Credits to SPW.
If you read the story, please, leave a comment :) And thank you!