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The Cora Desert - 13 Lares 276 LC

 
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Savant



Joined: 24 Aug 2006
Posts: 355
Location: Rangstadt, Allied Europe, Earth, NEC

PostPosted: Thu Mar 27, 2008 1:26 am    Post subject: The Cora Desert - 13 Lares 276 LC Reply with quote

Arisiate Ore Processing and Refinery Plant
95km SW of Mt Arisiate
Coral Mountains, Caprice
0815h, 13 Lares 276 LC

Edith Mubatu picked her way through the rubble, stepping gingerly over the blown-out adobe wall and the charred length of a severed arm. Its owner was no doubt beneath the crushed rock, dismembered and slowly sublimating his lifeblood out into the thin atmosphere of Caprice. By the heated scorch marks on the walls and the cases of unspent ammunition in the room, these Liberati didn't give much of a fight. Edith smiled.

Her guard, a half platoon of GREL, scoured the area as they approached. The airlock ahead was still working, and that was where the survivors were waiting to present to her the sweet fruit of their surrender. A Jan opened the airlock, and the toughest Mordred piled in along with her. She barely noticed them. Half of her mind focused on the essentials - the possibility of an ambush, the potential of a final suicidal effort to kill her. The other half, the long-range-planning half, the plotter, the schemer; this part of her relished the moment, for it was the first step on the road to greatness.

The door opened, and as was confirmed by sensors and by radio with the troops, the surviving interior was clear. The bodies of the dead Liberati rebels littered the ground where they had died, faces contorted into masks of agony form the pencil-thick beams of death that her troops dished out. She removed her helmet and shook out her bob of brown hair.

"Lieutenant. Are they ready to kneel to Earth?"

Her Lieutenant, a veteran of the Terranovan Campaign and earlier of Earth's World War had left his own helmet on. Wise, but Edith wanted to smell the scent of victory. "They are, Admiral. They're waiting for you in the main room."

So the two went off, a half-platoon of GREL in tow, as if Edith were walking through a minefield. She ignored them as one might ignore a swarm of insects - resolutely ignoring the droning buzz and activity. They passed through a bright red corridor decorated with hanging tapestries - the fine needlework was marred by thin burnholes, as if someone had applied a cigarette liberally to the art. The "main room" was broad, with a deep bowl for a roof, and was painted pastel blues, like a bright Terranovan sky. She scowled. Decadence, extravagance. Edith hated the Liberati styles, just as she hated much of their culture.

They were on their knees already, huddled in the centre of the room, surrounded by angry Mordred with pacification rifles and itchy trigger fingers. Their broad scarves and blue skullcaps did nothing to hide the purple welts or the stains of blood that proved the Mordreds' effectiveness. Their leader, an older man, stick thin but as tough-looking as old leather, knelt at the front of the group.

"I'm embarrassed. Under fifteen minutes. I thought it would take us longer to have you," Edith said cooly, testing the man. She could see the muscles in his cheek flex as he bit back a responce.

Edith smirked. "Pathetic. You Liberati are just pathetic." She strode forward, up to the man - she could hear rifles being raised and actions freeing. No doubt her guard had their weapons raised, ready to kill everyone in the room on her word or the first sign of defiance. The thougth of it turned her smirk into a vicious grin, and she leaned forward at the waist. She and her captive looked at one another eye-to-eye.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say to me?" She sneered, a sadistic mirth lighting her flinty eyes.

The man lowered his head - he was balding, his grey hair a limp crown around his skull - and he hissed out in bad Anglic, "We surrender to you, O Admiral of the Fleet. With no condition."

She laughed, crowing over the victory - the man didn't even realize how big a step it was. She and Krynn would split the planet up and devour it all between themselves. Her lieutenant frownd at her excesses, and even her loyal Jan raised a brow. She didn't care. "You are a prize Liberati! With no condition! Oh yes. I have a job for you. " She leered evilly at the man, ducking down to his height again. His face was red, and he shuddered with anger. "You're going to rue the day you thought to defy Earth, Liberati. You and your whole clan."

Edith stood up, beaming her feral grin. "Round these cattle up into the trucks, Lieutenant, and get them to Vega! " Her eyes flashed brightly, malevolence filling them. These cowed, broken men were the first rung on her ladder to immortality. real immortality. So focused was she, she never caught the glance that the leader of the encampment shared with the man beside him, nor the subtle smirk they briefly wore.
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