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| Diamond in the rough. | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 30 2009, 08:41 PM (288 Views) | |
| Assassin | Apr 30 2009, 08:41 PM Post #1 |
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Field Marshal
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Months had gone by since the Dominion had taken full control of the Assassin Empire. Their assassins had struck against the Emperor, and killed him in cold blood. Some speculated that it had been paranoia or fear on Gassels part. But the end result was the same... The assassin people had lost all will to put up even the most basic of fights. They had practically rolled over and died. Dominion soldiers patrolled the streets, and stock piles of ammunition and weapons were still being produced and stored in military controlled armories for the Dominion military forces world wide. However, as the months passed and the Assassin people continued to bow before their new rulers, the Dominion forces had been slowly called away to fight on other fronts. All that remained was a pitiful coastal patrol fleet, militia, and the most basic of Dominion soldiers to keep the populace in check. It was all that was needed really, as the mere sight of a Dominion soldier was all it took for the few dissidents to scurry under their rocks. Much of the island was in disrepair due to the lack of any real maintenance on the part of the Assassins or Dominion. Empty fighter aircraft, mothballed Naval ships, and the fully stocked warehouses of ammunition and weapons sat largely unnoticed or used, except when the great Gassel required them on other fronts. The former Assassin military barracks, outposts, and checkpoints all stood empty and dust covered. No one dared go near them, unless the Dominion accuse them of being a spy or dissident. Beggars and the sick clogged the streets, asking for handouts and routinely spit on by the Dominion forces. "Assassin traitors." was the common reply before the heel of a Dominion soldier lashed out. One beggar in particular was walking the streets this day. He was dressed in old rags, and a beat up old coat. His hands hung limply at his sides, weak from hunger and sickness. His dirty grey hair hung nearly below his shoulders, covering his face... what little could be seen through the dirt. People gave him a wide berth, as his stench of urine and vomit followed him like a cloud. He passed by a small Dominion checkpoint outside of a warehouse compound, and was suddenly dropped to his knees as pain erupted across the back of his skull. The Dominion soldier that had pistol whipped him stood behind him and grinned wickedly. "Assassin scum! What are you doing on my street?!" The beggar went to all fours and pleaded with the soldier. "Please sir... I meant no harm. Just looking for a place to sleep master! Please don't hurt me anymore!" He practically screamed. None of the other few Assassins around even looked at the scene. It was all too common, and no one wanted to be the next recipient of a bloody beating. The Dominion soldier kicked the beggar in the side, doubling him up on the ground in a cough of blood and vomit. The soldier sneered as he turned to his brethren in the outpost, whom all laughed and jeered. The soldier turned back to the poor beggar and looked down on him. He was still knotted in pain, his hands holding his stomach, a slight whimpering coming from him. It was the last thing the Dominion soldier saw as his face exploded into a red spray, a bullet impacting just above his right eye and killing him instantly. The spray hit the window of the Dominion checkpoint to the surprise of those inside. The remaining three ran outside, rifles at the ready. Again the sniper struck, this time dropping the one in the back with a gurgle. His neck was now well ventilated, the hole in the center causing him to drown in his own blood. His hand gripped the trigger and caused him to fire wildly into one of the soldiers in front of him, killing him in a bloody mess. The remaining soldier went to the ground, looking for the sniper frantically. He never found her. The beggar to his side, completely forgotten, pulled the long combat knife from the inside of his jacket and rammed it into the soldier temple. He rolled to one side, and got a knee. He held one hand int he air, and motioned towards the checkpoint. All around him, the seemingly uncaring citizens came to life. They sprang forward with military precision and entered the checkpoint, taking everything of value. Now well armed, they continued on to the first warehouse. ---------------------------------------------------------------- The next several hours went nearly as planned. The first warehouse had only one guard, who went down to a knife in his back that punctured a lung and split his heart like a ripe mellon. The remaining ones went much the same, either by sniper or knife. They kept the kills as silent as possible, fearful of alerting any other nearby checkpoints. Thus far no alarms had gone out, as their spotters at the other sites in the city had noticed no unusual activity. "Everyone load up. Get some people in those armored vehicles, and three of you strip the uniforms off the guards. We've got to make it look as if everything is still normal here. Also, someone get Angel in here." A chorus of 'Yes sir' was echoed all around as the Assassins scattered to their assigned roles. Several hopped into an APC, with one manning the mounted gun. The beggar watched as his people all went about their jobs as efficiently as possible. Behind him, a slight thump was heard as Angel dropped in from a catwalk above. "You called for me, sir?" "Yes. 20 minutes until we send out the signal. are you sure you can pilot that thing?" asked the beggar. "Its been a while you know." "Don't worry about me sir. You just keep your ass our of the line of fire. I'd hate to splatter you all over the side of a Dominion tank." She replied flippantly. The beggar scoffed slightly. "Yea, I bet that would be a real tragedy for you. Just keep them off our backs." "They don't call me a guardian angel for nothing sir." ------------------------------15 Miles Away---------------------------------------- The APC rolled along quickly to the main Dominion military base within the Imperial City. It approached the main gate slowly, the guards stepping to the side. So far as they knew it was just another Dominion troop transport. A standard day for them. At least until the .50 cal opened up on the guard house, and ran over the guards too slow to react. One lucky guard managed to jump the the side, only to be shot by the second APC entering the compound. Alarms started to go up all around the base at the sound of the gunfire. The Dominion soldiers scrambled to their armory only to find one of the APCs skidding to a stop outside and unloading 20 Assassins in weathered old Astarte uniforms. Some Dominion soldiers screamed and begged for mercy, only be be gunned down in a hail of gunfire. "APC1: Armory secure." The armored division housed on the base was a different story entirely. The barracks was simply located too close for the APC to beat the troops their. As a result, the APC arrived to find 2 tanks manned and opening fire. Several more had Dominion soldiers still climbing into them. "APC2: Tanks awake. Where's my guardian Angel?" A roar of gunfire erupted from behind the tanks, shredding one as depleted uranium rounds slammed into it, detonating the ammunition within. The second tank began to bellow black smoke, its engine hit critically but still functioning. It swiveled to track the newest threat, only to find that it had come from above too late. The Cobra helicopter banked sharply, and fired a rocket into the turret, resulting in a brilliant fireworks display. What the Cobra missed, the APC cleaned up with the .50 cal. The exchange lasted only 2 minutes, with the end result being 4 dead tanks, 3 damaged, and 6 fully functional and unmanned. "APC2: Thanks Angel." The Cobra wobbled in a salute. "No problem. I'm nearly black on ammo. Request permission to return to fallback one and rearm." "Do it. And tell the boys to make it snappy. We may have taken the city, but we've got the rest of the island to secure." "Roger that. Angel out." The day ended as the Assassin swept the base for any survivors. No alarm had gone outside of the city, though scattered patrols might still exist here and there within the city. But for the first time in months, the beggar felt relieved. Taking off his sweat soaked jacket revealed his scarred arms, and muscular build. However, what stood out the most wasn't how different he looked, but of the necklace he wore. A soldier nearby noticed and smiled. "Remembering the good old days, sir?" "Hardly. Though it will be nice to have my throne back. Too bad Gassel killed my double, and damn lucky he is stupid enough to not confirm his targets." "Well sir, he never was all that bright." The 'beggar' laughed. "True." He smiled and wiped some grime from his face. "Do me a favor? Get me a wet rag and some soap." He pulled the knife, and held it loosely in his hand. "and find me someone who can cut this goddamn hair off. It fucking stinks..." OOC: Well, I'm back. So lets cut to the chase. I'm leaving the Dominion, and as I don't recall saying ok to my Emperor being assassinated... I found a work around. Beyond that, enjoy the show. |
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| Kasnyia | May 1 2009, 05:48 PM Post #2 |
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Chairman of the Bank
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OOC- You said you left for good. I had loose ends to tie up. I still do. |
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| Assassin | May 1 2009, 08:18 PM Post #3 |
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Field Marshal
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OOC: Yes, I did. And sorry to hear that. |
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| Assassin | May 8 2009, 04:42 PM Post #4 |
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Field Marshal
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---------------------------------The next morning…------------------------------ The islands main port was quiet in the early dawn. The sea salt in the air made for a distinct smell, and the noiseless dawn made sounds echo all along the dock. A few soldiers patrolled the gated entrance, and the few minor walls of the compound. It was a large base, housing and refitting many of the former Assassin naval ships. Most were in decent shape, some mid refit and half painted in Dominion colors. Luckily the sailors were all off base, housed in a barracks compound deeper in the city. A city now no longer under their control. The first sign that things had changed was the lack of the daily truck transport with orders. The second, and largest, was the complete lack of ANY sailor having shown up to return to the refits. Little did they know that the barracks compound had fallen during the night to former Astartes, and a gas attack. Those that survived had been captured, and were being contained by a very angry mob of Assassin citizens armed to the teeth with any blunt objects they could find, as well as a few pistols and confiscated rifles. The guard patrols continued on, oblivious to the danger that was coming closer to them. “So, I wonder what command is going to do with this island once its been tapped of all resources?” Said one guard. “Who knows. Bomb it into the sea? Turn these barbarians into slaves… hell, their Asian… what good are they besides slaves?” Said the other. The first one laughed a bit, and turned to the sound of a whistle in the distance. “Train. 8:15, right on time as always. Command is always moving troops and supplies here, its kind of annoying. I can hardly sleep at night when all these trains keep showing up.” The first said. The second guard grunted an affirmative as the train slowed on the other side of the fence. Groups of soldiers waved, and saluted with their rifles. Some stood atop the few tanks secured to some of the flatbeds. The guard waved back. “Give ‘em hell boys!” he shouted. A few of the soldiers on the train started laughing. One shouted back. “We sure will!” The tank the soldier stood atop suddenly roared to life, and swiveled the gun barrel toward the guard. Stunned, he took a step back. “What the fu-” and was cut off by the thunderous blast of the main cannon. Behind him a building exploded in fire and debris. The first guard paniced. “They shot the fucking comm center! The islands communications were in the-” But he too was cut off as a second tank fired its main cannon into the fence, blowing both guards off their feet. When the second guard awoke, he felt as if he had been beaten for days. His ears rang, but he could barely hear the sound of gun fire and the bases alarms behind him. The blast had thrown him through a nearby window and shredded his arms and back. He was bleeding badly, and his weapon was nowhere to be found. Everything seemed fuzzy, his head swam, and he was badly disoriented. A shadow fell across his face, and it took him a moment to realize it was a soldier from the train. “W-wha-?” “Oh? Maybe they do make Dominion soldiers out of something other than sacks of shit. Welcome to the liberated Assassin Empire.” The soldier said, a pistol appearing in his hand. “Now kindly get the fuck off my island.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- With the port no longer under Dominion control, and the communications to the rest of the world disrupted long enough to cleanse the remainder of the island of any Dominion support… only a few simple tasks remained. The first was a matter of simplicity. The Dominion governor’s palace was located just outside of the city. It sat atop a hill that overlooked the sea to the south, and was in fact a historical home from before the rise of the Astartes. It was the former home of the late Emperor Jodo, Saint to the Genesian church and martyr of the Blood Queen. It was surrounded that evening by a force of former Astartes and soldiers. Communications cut, and no help coming… the Dominion Governor had little choice but to take the troops he had and barricade himself in and hope for Dominion rescue. The second matter was a bit more complicated. Across the island former sailors, and soldiers were being called back to the Imperial City. News was spreading like wildfire of the Emperors return, and the people were eager to raise their nation from the ashes of Dominion control. Ships were hastily finished with their refits over several days. Those that required more extensive work would be abandoned until more sailors and engineers could be found to correct the issues they had. The Dominion colors were kept on all but one ship… The AAS Remorse sat mothballed, though still fully operational. Its engines came to life, and the ship hummed as if waking from a deep sleep. It was loaded with ammunition and supplies, repainted, and Dominion flag torn down. An older sailor, far beyond his prime came forward and hoisted the traditional Assassin flag. Men cheered, saluted, and some even shed tears at the sight. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The ‘beggar’ approached the Dominion Governors Palace, his men holding the perimeter, only a few shots having been exchanged. “Status.” He asked one of the Astartes near a humvee. “Contained. No power, and we estimate maybe twenty guards. We assume the governor to be armed, as the majors halls blocked and booby trapped by now.” “Surely he knows that he can’t hold out. Tell your men to watch for explosive charges. And above all… I want him ALIVE.” “Understood sir.” The Astartes turned and shouted to his men. “LETS MOVE!” The firefight lasted for 5 minutes, before the palace feel silent. Staggered reports indicated that the upper levels had been booby trapped, along with the main stairwell, and the hallway leading to the Governors office. The main lobby was cleared nearly instantly by the Astartes ‘explosive’ entry. The ‘beggar’ stepped lightly over shattered glass and dead Dominion bodies. As he approached the Governors office, he noted a particular sound. Almost as if someone was punching a package of ground beef, and stifled screams. The doors swung open, and the scene was grisly. Several dead Dominion soldiers had been brutally killed, and the Governor was sitting in a chair, his knee shot out, arm broken, and his face a bloody mess. His captors had worked him over badly in the few minutes they had him. The Governor spat blood, and whimpered again. “Greetings Governor. I’ll skip the name exchange and assume you’ll figure out who I am here shortly. Let me begin by saying fuck you, and the Dominion.” The ‘beggar’ said. The governor simply gazed at him as if in shock. “Now, I’m going to give one of two orders to my men here. The first is to continue to beat on you for the last few months of your cruel rule. They are rightly angry over the rape of our nation, our women, and our rights. They will beat you, break bones, and continue to do so for days on end. We’ll rape you of all will to live, and before the end you’ll be begging for a bullet and peace. But we won’t give it to you, instead we’ll allow you to live and heal just enough to survive another round of beatings. Do you like that idea Governor? A life of unce4asing pain and torment?” The Governors eyes were wide. The ‘beggar’ was clearly furious, and his shaved head reminded him of someone… but he couldn’t think clearly, the terror and truth of the beggars words having a terrible effect on his bladder. “No…” “I though you wouldn’t. The second option is much nicer. My men DON’T beat you to near death, and refrain from laying a finger on you. You live the remainder of your life here in this place, in complete peace once I walk out the door. You’ll never have to see me or another Atartes again. But it will cost you. All I ask is that you give me the codes to access the Dominion communication network. I want to send a message to an old friend of mine, catch up a little, and who knows… maybe we’ll throw a fucking party. WHAT IS THE CODE GOVERNOR?” The beggar bellowed in rage. “…g-a-s-s-e-l-l-o-v-e-s-p-u-p-p-i-e-s…” The ‘beggar’ spoke softly into his throat mic. “Turn the power back on, and reconnect the communications network.” With a snap and a humm, the power came on. Bright light casting shadows across the room, revealing blood splatter and ichor. The ‘beggar’ went behind the Governors desk and activated his computer, opened the network and put in the password. The light went green and he was connected. He typed for a few minutes, no one saying a word, and sent the message globally. Every soldier, commander, even Gassel himself would receive the message in the Dominion network. Odds are that any spy networks that had penetrated Dominion communications even remotely would also receive it. Those that didn’t… word would spread by mouth quickly enough. He reviewed his message before he it was sent.
He smiled and sent it out. He stood, and quietly left the room. As the doors closed behind him, he gestured to the soldiers standing beside the Governor. “Grant him his peace gentlemen.” The gunshot echoed into the hall, and with grim satisfaction the ‘beggar’ smiled. “Once again I am the Emperor. Sanguineous lives once more, and the world will tremble as I reclaim what is rightfully mine…” |
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11:48 AM Jul 13