A Chat with the Blue-Skinned Devil
Tech-dabbling Reaper Bones oversees a joint faction raid that one of his men is heading. To his chagrin, Kon-Ris, the Hunter, believes it's the perfect time to drop in and have a chat.
Brain and writing urge willed this old idea into existence during my free time, to my surprise. I need to do more one-off fics with the Chosen.
The usual language warnings, mild descriptions of violence, references to previous torture, and the like. And toying with the Hunter's personality.
Ao3 || FF.net || Fic Hub
Approx. 12k
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Another day alive. Another evening to give ADVENT a headache.
Perched on the edge of a high cliff, some clicks away from an ADVENT Outpost — that also doubled as a training ground — was that unorthodox Reaper called Bones. The evening sun was shining bright behind him.
He sat against a boulder, knees drawn in with the forestock of his new, heavily customized alien rifle resting in the crook of his right arm. A finger hovered just to the side of the trigger as he slowly scanned the Outpost.
The advanced systems onboard the rifle soon went to work and brought up a litany of information as its AI pinged and marked each Guard he came across. The systems silently tapped into that Psionic Network as it would send a callout to the display in Bones' equally advanced visor. Name, rank designation, Hybrid generation, current surface thoughts, health, and some other pointless information flowed to the display.
“You Elders sure like your details. Thank god that doesn't match the work ethic.” Bones mumbled as he read what mattered. With a few thoughts, he caused the AI to separate out the key information and send it over to his comrades.
“Hm…” Another mumble slipped out as he continued to scan the grounds. “Decent amount here for this lovely evening. May even have prisoners we’ll get to rescue if these thoughts are fresh.”
So far, he had spotted and marked about twenty-two Troopers patrolling the outside. Ten of those were split between four guard towers. He was able to tag about eight inside but knew there were a few more on the inside, spotting them passing by the windows, and tagged two Captains.
He grinned just as he finished his final sweep, tagging a few more he had missed. “This should be a decent hull for the three of us. And will put me in a better mood.” He sent over the updated information again to his comrades. “Get some new gear and information. Pay off some debts aaaaand get into new ones.” A subdued dark laugh came out. “The cycle never ends.”
A chirped ping in his helmet caught his attention, followed by his rifle alerting him to some sudden movement from the west.
“Hm?”
Drawing his head back and turning it, he caught some rustling in the trees below before he saw the tip of a familiar alien rifle stick out, before bodies followed. Familiar hoods and masks like his came out, followed by furred collars and clawed gauntlets that also wore gas masks, and more heavy-duty, fully encapsulated pressurized suits with hard angles and many tubes.
“There you guys are.”
It was a mix of his men, two Skirmisher clans he was close with, and a branch of a minor faction called NoX that he was on good terms with. The group was quickly making its way to the outer perimeter wall, using the terrain to hide their movements. And this was just one of the groups.
He got a few more alerts from his rifle and a message from one of his men. The others were on the move.
“The party is about to start.” A faint murmur left his lips.
He tapped into their shared comms to see how things were going. The system gave him a quick summary of what was discussed just minutes before they got the data from Bones and the other snipers perched around the area.
“Vri Ti Tok.” He uttered an alien phrase. It was time to listen in on the discussion.
A few words popped up on his visor display.
››//CONNECTING TO SHARED PRIVATE NETWORK
A series of pings played out before a harsh radio scratch let him know he was patched in.
“— are in position. We will be moving on the towers in five. Got that? And everyone’s got their shots?” He heard Marrow’s voice first before the leaders of each group gave acknowledgment to what he said.
“Good. We’re running a tight shift. We may be moving more bodies than the ‘vees can support.” He continued. “Ready with the scramblers and junk code, Snips?”
A tuneless whistle played before she responded. “Tapped in and the whole squad’s ready. Hope Von Tron did his work.”
“He always does his work; just do yours.” Marrow lightly chided. “Now this next question is for the NoX. Arbiter. Ready with that gas? Nothing special, right?”
There were a comm clicks as muffled hearty chuckles came through. “Were locked, loaded, and ready to go.” A few more of those laughs followed again. “And it's the type we agreed on. Disorientate and knock out. Not melt.”
Another click came on before someone took a long, phlegm-choked breath, before a muffled voice joined. “But we do have something special if unwanted company shows up.”
“Good and… right, Castle. Have to worry about those bounty hunters that patrol this region and the Chosen.” Marrow didn’t mean to hesitate, but he knew how dangerous the usual special gas grenades the NoX used were. They would be more of a problem for their Skirmisher allies, compared to the humans, if their masks were compromised.
“Enough of that blabbern’. Time’s ticking. Let’s crack on.” He threw a little joke of an insult at himself. “On my mark, when that code hits, groups Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta will take out those towers. Groups Rho, Sigma, and Tau with fire the gas. The rest, you know your roles. Keep up.”
Bones nodded along as he listened to his man go over the plan one more time before the ball started to roll. For once, he wasn’t leading the operation. He needed a little break, due to still being peeved that a lead he was following led to another dead end. Feels like a wild goose chase trying to find you.
And then, it was about time he got some of his people taking on the reins of leader of leadership and running these joint operations. He knew that at any time, any raid or infiltration he performed could have been his last, and he had a blue headache they had to worry about too.
And who knows how many years I still have on my ticker. Well… may have gotten some of those back after that incident. He kept his true age hidden from his subordinates. It was obvious he was up in his years, but he was far from being geriatric.
So far, he was rather proud that his harsh training was paying off; even if Marrow preferred working alone, the man had natural leadership skills.
Shifting his knees slightly, he returned his sights to his scope to watch the ordered chaos unfold and provide sniper support.
As soon as the “one” was dropped, the hacking began. It didn't take long before the tower Guards began to show signs of confusion and some pain as their helmets began to glitch and the chips began to receive faulty information from the Network.
Next, four teams of Reapers and Skirmishers rushed to the towers, firing their respective grappling hooks before swiftly ascending. The Guards barely had a second to react as fists and feet crashed into their faces and faces, knocking them to the ground.
Just as all the towers were secured and more confusion spread to the Troopers within the walls, the NoX squads with their grenade launchers approached the walls and fired off a few volleys of their home-brewed concoctions.
Matte black canisters soared into the sky before they began to rain down. Just halfway down, they twisted open, causing a sickening yellow gas to spray out of tiny holes.
In between panicked barked orders concerning intruders, which were becoming racked gasps, someone tried to raise the alarm, but one of the Reaper hackers was blocking in.
A few Troopers dropped to the ground unconscious after taking in a few breaths of the gas. Those still standing, as they most likely had been further spliced to make them more hardy, began to either fight back or retreat to the main building as more Skirmishers and Reapers came over the walls.
The bark of magnetic fire filled the air, peppered by a few shots of plasma.
“A well-oiled machine you've got running, Marrow. And you thought you didn’t have it in you.” Bones said, turning his frequency so only Marrow could hear him. “Remember to keep the time in mind. It won't be long before the System notices the intrusion and will force a correction with backup.”
“Hm?” Marrow wasn’t expecting to hear him. “Uh, thanks, boss. And I remember. Ya drilled it into our heads, especially when some muppet messes up on a soft run.” He laughed. “Snips and co are monitoring that. Don’t need a fragmenting headache or the blueberries.”
“Good.” That made him smile. “And don't forget to hit those secured databanks.”
“Like we would ever forget to do that.”
Bones told him to keep up the work and stay sharp before he tapped back into the main comm network to see what was going on. As he did, he got a few new alerts on his visor.
A series of Humvees and a few former ADVENT prisoner transport vehicles came charging in at high speeds. Just as they were pulling up, he noticed some of his men and Skirmishers were pulling several of the unconscious Troopers out of the main gate entrance.
“Wondered when you guys would get here. See, we’re a transport short. Wonder if it had mechanical problems.” He shook his head and let a rumor of a sigh out. Hopefully, being down one vehicle wouldn’t cause too much of a problem. “Keep your mind off the negatives…”
Spotting a familiar rust colored coat in the crowd pulled bodies out, he tuned his frequency to chat with them.
“Zuud!” He said warmly. “How’s it going?”
A chipper laugh replied. “Fantastic! These muckers know how to party! Raidn’ to restock in more ways than one. Pretty neat if crude with how them Skirmishers go about disabling chips with them taser sticks, if I must say. Hell of a way to get new recruits!” She said. “And you have to see if those Hazmats will give us some of these grenades later. Crazy how fast they work on the tin heads.”
“Simmer down there.” He softly chuckled, hearing that usual giddy tone from her. It put his mind at ease. “And that’s been worked out in the deal.”
“Sweet! Wonder if doc Reed can decode how they work once we get ‘em?”
“We’ll see. Less thinking about the future and focus on the now. We’re on the clock.”
“Right, right, ya old blighter.” Even while lifting a body into one of the vehicles, she waved him off. “You’re just crabby, you don’t get to test run your fancy new gun!”
He rolled his eyes. “No. I’m just fine and more focused than you.”
“Sure, sure, old man. Ciao, now! Running back in!” With a sharp brzzt, she cut their conversation.
He just rolled his eyes again, but a laugh slipped out. He shifted frequencies.
“Wished Mica could have joined this, but he’s still recovering from that botched op.” He quietly said to himself. Mica could temper Zuud to a degree, but the woman was always roaring to go. “Sorry about that, kiddo… Let myself get distracted.” His mind was going back to the negative. It wanted him to focus on the dead end in the op that went sour.
Was it bad intel? Did someone know he’d be hitting that hidden Facility that night? Everything about that infiltration felt too perfect before it went sour.
Think about that latter. Not now. You need to observe Marrow. Have to grade him later. It took some effort, but he shoved those negative thoughts back in their cage with only the faintest of acknowledgements to ease his mind. There was always a risk with the work they did, and that trail he had been hunting for years.
Until the job is done. He recited a mantra in his mind. One, he and old friends would say. Until the job is done.
“Back to the action. So far, sniper support hasn’t been needed.” His eyes shifted to a section of his display that showed the teams set up across the area like he was. There was barely any chatter on their comms, and no shots were fired.
The sound of magnetic gunfire continued to ring out, but with each passing minute, a weapon would fall silent.
His eyes scanned the battlefield again. Spotting the faint glow of purple psionics trailing across the main courtyard, he found the pale head it was originating from.
Pinning a rather hardy Captain to the ground was the clan leader of the Cottonmouths, Verso Ttash.
With a mere thought, his scope zoomed in to see what she was doing. Her sharp nails dug deep as she had a vice grip on the Captain’s exposed face. The purple vessels on her arms pulsed and bulged with harsh energy as a stream swirled around the Captain’s head.
“How’s it going, Verso?” Bones tuned his frequency over to her.
It took a moment for her to answer. “Good. This Outpost is nearly pacified. A minute, please.”
Eyes burning bright with streaming energy, she drew her face closer to the Captain before placing her other hand on their head.
In between racked gasps of pain, the Captain was cursing her out for her and her ilk being traitors and working with those terrorists, and that they would never betray the Elders.
There was some truth to what they said. She noticed the Captain had a higher degree of mental locks on their mind.
“››I have learned enough. And you will learn the truth, Kracsad. Now sleep.‹‹”
As the swirling cloud of energy ignited into a blinding light, the Captain let out one last cry of pain before going limp.
Verso picked them up, slinging them over her shoulder, before she started to make her way to the vehicles.
“This one is important. High ranking. More locks on their mind.” She said to Bones.
“Ah. Sounds like you’ll be doing some serious interrogating later to break them.” Bones replied.
“Affirmative.”
“Hope all goes well with that and deprogramming the rest. If so, you Cottonmouths and Hammerheads will have a hearty increase in numbers.”
“Yes, yes. Mhm.” Her reply was somewhat distracted. And there seemed to be a hint of crankiness in it.
“Still simmering about the NoX’s part of the deal, Ver?” He had his suspicions.
She was silent for two minutes. “Yes.” It was short and harsh.
He let out a dark chuckle as he shook his head. “You and I know the deprogramming isn’t always a success. There will always be some too deeply warped by all the imprinting and indoctrination.”
“But to be experimenting and broken down just like those false gods work on your species, Bones!? It is suffering! All too sickening!”
“We are at war, Verso. It is not kind. It will never be kind.” His voice was stern but never became cold. “I won’t pretend I was a saint before and during the Invasion with the dirty work I did, so I don’t judge how the NoX work. And I sure as hell ain’t a saint now with the bones I wear.” He let out a curt laugh, purposefully tilted his head back and forth to cause the lower jaw bones of a Viper he was wearing to clack against his mask. “They find ways to break the Elders’ slaves, which sends them back to the drawing board to fix the flaws, only to create new ones. Every wasted resource is a blessing for us.”
Verso was silent for a while before she let out a discontented grumble. “Point made and acknowledged.”
“I’ll tell you something that will soothe your soul a smidge. They take no pleasure in it. They won’t let them suffer for long. And if any of them break from the programming, they’ve promised to ship them over to you or another clan.”
“Do you truly believe that?” She scoffed.
“I’ve witnessed it.” He said sharply. “They keep their promises. They know how Hybrids are made. The unlucky converts and clones. The broken and born. They sympathize with you, Skirmishers, more than you think.”
She was silent again. “I am… still skeptical of Arbiter’s and Castle’s promises. But…” Her voice trailed off.
“Keep talking, Ver.”
“Their masks and boosters have been protecting mine and Thrax’s men from this gas… And they have kept their promise not to use the other gas. I… I… will believe your words, Bones-vrataka.”
Bones laughed. “See? You’ve got nothing to keep your pale head all worried.”
A gruff growl was made, and a lengthy curse quickly followed.
“Oh, that’s cold. But we’re still friends.”
She cursed again, but it was much shorter, before laughing. “Enough chatter, I have another mind I must dive into.”
“Chat once we’re done and back at the hideout.”
As they ended their chat, he watched as the first set of vehicles rolled out with part of their catch.
It wasn’t long before all gunfire fell silent at the Outpost. Now, just the sound of barked orders, quick boot movements, crates being ripped open, various equipment being moved, and other raiding activities continued.
So far, the Network was still blind to their operation, but they kept up the speed.
Due to the slightly higher than estimated guard count and a fair amount of prisoners, and being short one vehicle, the last set of vehicles was held for the prisoners due to their poor condition. This led to the Skirmishers sending off some of their men to carry off the last few Troopers on their backs. Marrow ordered some of the Reapers to follow as their escorts, and Arbiter did the same with his men.
With the main building secured, Snips came down to begin hacking the databanks for anything useful.
“Rare to get an op that goes this smoothly.” Bones spoke his thoughts. It was a nice change of pace. Especially with his current mood.
Even with no signs of danger, he never relaxed from his sniping position.
“Geez!” Snips exclaimed on the private channel for the Reapers. “We’ve got a hellavu lot of names here, Bones. That intel was right, they like to use this as a junction point to handle POWs and some ‘napped civvies to throw off trackers.”
Bingo. Some news that Bones was both glad and annoyed to hear. “Get those names downloaded and where they’ve been moved to. Need the evidence. It’s our bargaining chips with the others and the Void Walkers”
“On it. And found some intel about some other interesting things happening in the area.”
“Focus on the main target first and then nab that.”
“Yeah, yeah. I can multitask.” She sneered. “And sending some of the names over to your systems.”
“You’re no Von Tron.” He chided her.
She scoffed when he said that. “‘Course not. I’m not spliced up ‘borg.”
He chuckled. “Less chatter. Focus on the prize, kiddo.”
He turned his attention back to the information streaming in from Snips. He barely got to read it for a moment when his visor threw up an alert. Then he heard it.
Somewhere off behind him, there was a metallic zing that rang out before the rushed whirl of something being pulled in. A faint grunt followed as the sound of grass and rocks shifted as something pulled itself up and moved far too quickly to be human.
He sighed mentally. Curse my damn luc— Just as he was about to shift, to take a shot at the unwelcome prowler, a dark shadow crossed over him before a sharp snap and zing followed as something pressed against his neck. There was the sound of metal-on-metal scraping before it stopped as suddenly as it started; the pressure stayed.
“Boo!” A deep, dark chuckle greeted Bones’ ear.
“Of course…” Bones let his exasperation slip out. He didn’t need to look to see who it was. He could recognize that voice anywhere. There went his good mood. Must have something new that got past the sensor array I set up until he was right on me. I cast a pretty wide net… He must have teleported in several clicks away.
“Aren’t you going to say something, my favorite bone-wearing freak?” Kon-Ris asked, slowly drawing his head closer to Bones. He pressed his knife deeper into the neck armor, gouging deeper into it, scrape by scrape. “Or, as you humans say, ‘Cat got your tongue?’”
Bones’ throat tightened as he only replied with a grumble. He held in a flinch as he felt the Viper skull on his head being moved. The snake vertebra and ribs that ran down the back of his head and spine faintly rattled with each shift the Hunter made.
“Hm, this one looks different. Smaller. One of those ‘Sidewinder’ models? Another one for your collection?” Kon-Ris was carefully examining it. He noticed a few familiar notches that showed cybernetic enhancements towards the back of the skull. “You’ve killed another one of those ‘elite bounty hunters’, haven’t you?” His tone briefly mocked the hunter. “Nice work.” A dark chuckle came out. “I can imagine the anger of my Masters once they learned another one of Their ‘prized’ servants has been slain. Ah…” He gave a wistful sigh. “Amazes me how those snakes are so blindly loyal compared to the rest… but there are a few other species in reserve and out there with the rest that are like that. Poor bastards.”
Another alert popped up on Bones’ visor.
››//EMERGENCY OVERRIDE. MESSAGE TO ALL FREQUENCIES.
Snips came on the comms to let everyone know that the Network had finally noticed their intrusion and was going to work. They still had some time to finish up and get the hell out of dodge as the junk code was redirecting the counter intrusion to other Outposts to cause problems to distract it, but several Dropships had been dispatched to their location.
“Hmm?” Kon-Ris pressed that knife in again. “Still not talking? You’re usually chatty by now. Or are you talking to your people?” With his free hand, he tapped at the side of Bones’ visor. “I think I hear some panic chatter down there. Something about the Network AI is finally doing its damn job. Heh, heh, heh.”
Bones’ fingers tightened around his rifle as he took a long, slow swallow. He had been expecting that the Hunter would show up, as this Outpost bordered his territory, but wasn’t quite expecting him to sneak up on him like this, somehow circumventing the sensors he set up. The Chosen had him dead to rights. There was nothing he could do that wouldn’t end with the bastard slitting his throat before dragging his dying corpse back to his Stronghold.
“Thanks for the update.” Bones finally spoke, broadcasting on the shared comms. He made sure his mask didn’t hide his voice from Kon-Ris. “With the whole Outpost going quiet, it’s probably sending in some heavy hitters. Maybe even a Chosen. We don’t need to stick around for that. Finish up in five or less and get out. Everyone’s got what they wanted. Fewer cracks in the river. And watch the bends. Sensors picked up some skittering.”
Kon-Ris laughed when he heard that. “Oh, do tell me what you were hunting for here that has you fraternizing with two Skirmisher clans and those nasty, gas-loving, hazmat suit-wearing freaks?”
Bones only responded with a faint grunt as that knife pressed deeper, and he could feel it slicing into the reinforced fabric now.
Another alert popped up on his visor before the voice came through.
“Got your message, boss. Relayed to the others.” It was Zuud. A mild relief to his mind. “Got the blue bastard in our sights.”
Bones would have let out a sigh of relief if that didn’t mean getting his jugular sliced. “Yeah, the bugs. Seems my sensors may have disturbed some of the sleepers, or we got one of those migrating hordes coming through.” He still didn’t hide his voice from the Hunter.
A rough hm came from her. “Sure about that? Got him on all angles. No way he’ll be able to dodge that before the knife slides.”
“Chek. Chek. I can handle myself. Got enough ordinance around to blow them sky high.” Bones said plainly. With that knife still pressed against his neck, and knowing the Hunter had some precognition abilities, he was sure he would have his throat sliced before the third shot would strike the Chosen. “Use those lures to keep them away from the stragglers. Or gather them up for the NoX to melt and burn. Would be less of a headache for the area. Chek? Chek?”
“Hm… Alright, boss. We’ll keep our eyes on you. Don’t need you mangled again. Chek. Chek.”
“They’d have to keep up to catch me.” Bones said with a faint chuckle.
As quick as the chuckle came out, it was replaced with a grunted growl as the Hunter jabbed at the side of his head again.
“Cheeky. I know coded talk when I hear it, even if I can’t decipher it.”
Still keeping the knife to Bones’ throat, he moved his other hand over and around Bones’ side, before waving it. He made sure to throw it out further so the man could see.
“I may be… eccentric… but I’m not dumb.”
Figures. Let’s see what he wants. Bones grumbled in his mind.
With careful movement, he powered down his rifle and slowly lowered the stock to the ground. Taking his hand off of it, he then raised one hand to the knife and pushed it back. There was little resistance.
Feeling the Hunter draw his face away, he finally turned to face him. That blue-skinned devil was kneeling right behind him, wearing a smug grin as those purple eyes beamed with excitement and insidious intent.
“Kon-Ris…” Bones gave him a curt and growled greeting. As he was thinking of what he was going to say next, he just studied the Chosen, looking for any subtle tells that would key him in on what was on the twisted creature’s mind. Which was a near-impossible task compared to the other two Chosen. Kon-Ris enjoyed playing mind games with his prey.
“Bones.” Kon-Ris said warmly, like he was speaking to an old friend. He let his grin grow wide enough to show his shark-like teeth. He flipped his knife a few times before putting it back in its sheath just below his left hip.
“What do you want?” Bones finally asked. He shifted his leg slightly to knock away some numbness. “Seeing as you haven’t slit my throat or planted a tranq in the back of my neck.” He let more venom seep into his words.
“Oooh, now, there’s no need to be so hostile.” Kon-Ris sounded offended; he even placed a hand on his chest as he drew back as if he had been stabbed by the man, shaking his head as his lips twisted into a frown. It only lasted for a second before he was grinning again. “Can’t I have a chat with my favorite human?”
“Oh, you have favorites now?” He scoffed. “Thought you liked to shoot them all?”
“I do. And I do.” Kon-Ris laughed. “I’ve shot you.” He pointed at Bones’ legs, which caused the man to shift uncomfortably. “Ah! Ha!” The Chosen laughed again.
To Bones’ shock and confusion, Kon-Ris shifted and sat down, moving close to the cliff’s edge to let his legs dangle.
“I had you that day. Dragged you back to my Sanctuary for interrogation and conversion. Couldn’t let someone like you go to waste.” Closing his eyes, Kon-Ris fondly remembered the day.
Even with the Elders yelling in his ears, telling him to kill Bones and catch the rest of those Reapers who were escaping with something important, he ignored them. Bones had been an interesting torn in his Masters’ sides that he just had to pick at. And then, he wanted to press his luck. He had heard that his brother, Dhay-Vol, was being allowed to make a specialized unit from those Priests still under development. So, why couldn’t he? ADVENT could use some sharpshooters besides him and a few special alien units.
“But…” Opening his eyes, Kon-Ris looked at Bones. His gaze was intense as he studied the man. Raising a finger, he soon jabbed it at the center of Bones’ visor. “But… somehow you escaped. Still can’t quite figure that out.”
“Oh, you know.” Bones didn’t believe that for a second. Despite that maddened mind, the Chosen was a lot smarter than he let on. He swatted the offending finger away, which was met with a chuckle.
“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.” He tilted his head from side to side as he shrugged, but the enthusiasm in his voice gave away the truth
Kon-Ris then shifted that finger over to Bones’ legs and began to tap at them. Poking at specific places that he had shot Bones on that fateful day.
“Struck this knee first, blowing it out back to front, causing you to stumble, and then the other knee for good measure. And then your lower calves and ankles before you hit the ground.”
As the malicious sadist he was, he described each shot in gory detail of how the bones shattered and blood painted the ground as he pressed each spot. He smirked more and more as the Bones squirmed under him. Don’t even need those wretched psionics to make him squirm. He wasn’t fond of using them anyway.
“And I see the Elders’ scientist healed your legs quite nicely before your mysterious escape.” He jabbed at Bones’ knees a few more times before finally leaving the man alone. “Amazing what Their technology can do, huh? Though you have to give up your free will if you want the good stuff. All given to you humans for ‘free’ out of the ‘kindness’ of Their hearts. It’s all just lies that you cattle eat up to ignore the past.” He scoffed as he waved his hand dismissively. “Except you smart ones.”
Bones let out a few grumbles as he shook the phantom pains plaguing his legs. That time was hell. Was close to my prize, and it slipped away because he showed up. If he had a death wish, he would have tried attacking the Chosen as soon as he started those jabs. He just needed to be patient to find his way out.
“Why are you here, Kon-Ris?” Bones stated again. “Can’t be here for just a ‘friendly’ chat.”
Bones wasn’t really amused at the poking. It had been some years since that incident, but the occasional pain would still plague him even though his legs had been fully restored, with bonuses.. “You can’t be here for just a ‘friendly’ chat.”
“Oh!” Kon-Ris’ eyes lit up. On the contrary, I am here just for that.” Though he couldn’t see the face behind the mask, he could only imagine the puzzled look on Bones’ face. He laughed. “Like my sister, and unlike my boneheaded brother, I like to understand my enemies and see how they tick. And you,” he couldn’t help but jab at that visor again, even if that meant his finger would get smacked away, “are just such an intriguing man out of all the Reapers and their little branches. Just how does Volk put up with you?”
He can’t be serious. Part of Bones’ mind wondered if he was hallucinating things.
Did some of that gas from the NoX reach up here and breach his mask and knock him out? A few harsh knocks to the side of his head brought him back to reality. No, that Chosen was right next to him and being strangely polite.
The Elders have to be screaming in his head right now.
“I would like an answer to my question,” Kon-Ris pouted, “and have you come up with a name for your branch yet? Your cold, bitter compatriot has.”
“Fill in the blanks yourself. It should be obvious.” Bones said through gritted teeth. “Don’t care for names.” It was something he faintly considered, but Reaper worked just fine. And the gear he and his people wore differentiated them enough from the main branch.
He pouted. “Oh, you’re not being fun. Something has you in a twist. Maybe a man of yours was injured recently?” He sighed as he rolled his eyes. Yet, a smirk was forming. “Or was it because you little hunt let nowhere.”
Bones’ hands tightened into a fist.
Kon-Ris licked his lips. He wished he could see his face, that bloodthirsty glare that was boiling behind that mask. Humans and their emotions. It is delightful. “Well, I think I have something that will put you in a better mood.”
Kon-Ris set his hands to either side of his lap. His eyes started to glow brighter as psionic energy began to swirl in his palms.
This may be my chance to have them shoot him as I jump dow—
Before he could finish the thought and put motion into action, two pings rang out. Appearing in Kon-Ris’ lap were two stacked black square containers. They were slightly bigger than the Chosen’s hands. Picking on up, he moved it over to Bones.
“Hungry?” Kon-Ris asked.
Head tilting ever so slightly, Bones looked Kon-Ris, then the containers, and right back at the Chosen. What the hell?
Of all his encounters, of all the wild games the Chosen would play with him, this… this was a first. He riles me up, and now he’s offering me a damn meal?
“You can’t be serious.” Bones’ exasperated tone barely hid his confusion. “Did the Elders blast you before you came to crash my op?”
“Oh, but I am quite serious.” Kon-Ris was practically shoving the container into the man’s chest. “And no. My lovely Masters and I haven’t had a chat in a while.” He chuckled. “And,” he drew his face dangerously close to Bones, “whatever you guys did here practically has Them silent here. Thank you.” He pulled away. “Come on, take it.”
“Contents.”
“Paranoid.” Something he expected. “It’s Greek. Gyro platter or something close.” Kon-Ris made a dismissive gesture with his other hand. Shaking the container slightly, there was the faint rattle of cutlery. “I had to do some hunting to find those ‘uncivilized’ humans that still know the old world and had access to the real meats. None of that highly modified ‘reclaimed protein’ crap the Elders push.” His lips twisted upwards as a snarl slipped out.
Ever since he became more “flippant,” as the Elders like to call it, Kon-Ris found Their need for excessive control to be so unnecessary and was sure it was going to blow up in Their faces in the future. Nearly every function of those gilded cages for the humans barely had any contingency plans if the vital systems that kept them running were cut off. The same applied to the aliens They enslaved, or “employed.” And the same for ADVENT. Just one major control tower where all the information flowed to and from. He knew if anything ever happened to it, the minor relays around the world would fail, blowing up spectacularly from the energy and information overload.
“Soooo,” he shook the container again, “this stuff is pretty damn tasty from what I sampled. Again, you hungry?” He shook the container again.
This loon is serious. Bones eyed the Chosen one more before finally taking the container. It was best to play along for now.
“Thought you undying creatures didn’t need to eat?” Bones questioned as he worked to separate the stack before opening the warmest container.
The Hunter was true to his word. Puffs of warm steam rose out of the container that held several slices of thinly sliced lamb meat on one side, and on the other was some chicken. As he opened the other containers, he found the cutlery, pita bread, sliced vegetables, and two dips — hummus and tzatziki.
“We don’t. Our powers and the psionic currents of the Earth sustain us. But...” He rolled his eyes. “The Elders were smart enough to give us stomachs and the ability to digest and extract nutrients if something ever,” he paused for dramatic effect, he even threw up a hand and flared his fingers out, “cut us off from Their ‘gift’!”
“Mhm.” Bones only nodded.
Wisely, Bones turned on his systems on his visor to scan the food. It only took a few moments, and everything came back clean.
“Have to give it to the almighty bastards, They also gave us taste buds so we can enjoy eating.” Kon-Ris chuckled. He had opened his containers and was starting to chow down.
That made Bones chuckle. A strange show of kindness indeed, with what I’ve come across over the years.
Bones wasn’t going to fully let his guard down, but knew he still had to play along.
He brought a hand to the side of his mask. With a few presses on some key points and then a pull, there was a sharp hiss. A few jets of gas escaped as the middle section of his mask began to separate from the sides. Slats receded inwards. As he pried it off, all the smells finally hit him; he froze.
It was a heavenly collection of spices he thought he would never smell again. Those savory scents of freshly cooked lamb and chicken brought back memories of an old mom & pop shop he would visit in a city he once lived in, and how much he missed it. Then that freshly baked pita bread. He could feel his mouth watering. It was all so overwhelming.
“Huh, you don’t shave often, do you?” Kon-Ris said. “And how old are you? I know the treatments added some years back to your life.”
As soon as he heard that mask come off, the Chosen looked. He was disappointed that it was the only part of it that came off, revealing his mouth and the salt and pepper stubble that decorated his chin. He had been dying to fully unmask the man, as he failed to do so when he had first captured him, as that mask stubbornly clung to his face.
Turning to him, Bones let his lips pull back into a frown. The Chosen laughed.
“I know. I know. The blood draws and scans from when you were captured gave all those details. But I want to hear it from your mouth.”
Bones still didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up a piece of meat, brought it to his nose, and took in a few whiffs. Smells and feels like he real thing.
“What has you in such a nice mood this evening?” He asked a question, still ignoring the Hunter’s question.
The Hunter let out an annoyed huff before he answered. “Like I said earlier, I just feel like chatting with my o’ so favorite human.” He smiled before biting down on some more food. As quickly as he scarfed it down, he gestured for Bones to finally take a bite. “C’mon, eat. I’m not that shrewd. I’d rather gut you and drag you back to my Stronghold than poison you.”
Bones wrinkled his nose. He knew that was true.
Throwing some caution to the wind, he finally picked up a piece of bread, tossed some meat on it, then some sauce, and finally took a bite. His eyes widened. This is… real. Tastes almost like back then… What the hell, Kon-Ris?
The Hunter’s sudden “kindness” was still confounding him. This was out of place, even for him. Wait… A troubling thought entered his mind. I wonder if this is some aspect of Tomko surfacing. He could be a jokester from time to time.
An old fallen friend, even though he had only known the man briefly. One he was learning may have been turned into this twisted being called a Chosen. It made sense. The Hunter knew how the Reapers worked all too well, shared some of their hunting habits, and even sounded like them from time to time. But he wasn’t 100% sure if the Hunter was that man. He was still hunting down the information concerning Kon-Ris’ creation. He had to give it to the Elders, as They kept that information well hidden.
For your sake, Elena, I hope he just had his brain picked and was processed. She was the reason why he had taken a deeper look into that theory despite everyone else thinking she was crazy and still grieving her lost lover. She had a particular hatred she mainly directed towards one brutal Captain. It didn’t take long for her to direct that hate over to the Hunter once he truly began to terrorize the Reapers. But within that hatred, there was a deeply pained sorrow.
A few rough nudges dragged him back to reality. He glanced over.
“So? What do you think?” Kon-Ris asked with a grin. “Pretty tasty?”
Bones let him wait for the answer as he ate three more pieces, taking his sweet time chewing and swallowing. “Not bad.” He didn’t want to give him satisfaction.
The Hunter chuckled.
“How the hell did you get this made without scaring the people half to death?” That had been itching at the back of his mind for a while.
“I did scare them half to death. Probably took a lot of years off their life, but I know how to be nice and gave them some contraband to grease their palms.”
It sounded too far-fetched to Bones. “I don’t believe you.”
“Ha! It’s the truth!”
Kon-Ris continued in detail on how he had found the hidden little Haven just on the cusp of some territory he owned. It was a bit of a “dead zone” area where the Psionic Network had issues penetrating, and rumors were floating about that some escaped test subjects were running around, so the Elders tasked him to investigate it. As he prowled through the area, taking his sweet time as he realized the dead zone quieted the Elders’ chatter, he stumbled across the Haven.
He didn’t find the escaped test subjects, but he found that the Haven was harboring some traitorous Hybrids that his honor-obsessed sister had failed to take care of. So, he took care of her little mess-up and was just about to call in a raid to wipe out the Haven as he snooped, finding all sorts of contraband, until he sampled the food.
That little sample made him change his mind. It had been a while since he had something tasty, and it wasn’t the alien meats he would snatch from a Reaper camp he would wipe out, or from his own hunts when he was bored. So he let the little Haven live. Due to the dead zone also affecting his psionics, he was able to bluff his way through his debriefing with the Elders. Bringing back evidence of the Hybrids made it easier. So he had the area marked as being cleansed on the Network’s map, as long as they would make him a meal without question whenever he would pay a visit.
Everything the Hunter said and said before that still sounded too far-fetched for Bones, but he wisely kept his interjections brief to non-existent. He felt like he was learning more and less about the Hunter. Learning how the undying pest had changed over the years to become as much of a thorn in the Elders’ side as the Reapers were, as he wasn’t properly doing the job he was created for.
This is… unbelievable. Some of his ‘deaths’ had to change him… maybe they’ve caused unwanted personality traits of whoever was imprinted on your mind to surface, making you rebellious. His mind drifted back to Tomko again. Maybe…
“So I had them make a little something before I tracked your old self down. Just a small meal to broker a small ‘truce’.” Kon-Ris wrapped up his story. “I still want to pick that brain of yours.”
That again. Bones snorted. “What is there to pick that the Network doesn’t know?”
“You,” he flashed his teeth, “are so different from the other Reapers. Another splinter from the main that plays by its own set of rules, but still tries to work with stubborn ol’ Volk. You readily use alien tech and fraternize with the Skirmishers and other alien traitors! Ha!” He slapped his knee. “It’s intoxicatingly intriguing. You are fascinating, especially with the trouble you get into and cause. No wonder the Elders want your head. You dig too deep.”
Bones let out a brief hm. He was slowly getting a better picture of why he was being pestered.
“I dig too deep? They don’t like that?” Bones shook his head before letting a short laugh escape. Let me test, press it more this time. “Probably don’t like me hunting for old friends, like Tomko. Even if the man’s dead.”
He carefully watched the Hunter’s expression.
The Chosen raised a brow before the corner of his lip lifted in disgust as he rolled his eyes.
“Tomko. Tomko. Tomko.” Kon-Ris gave a dismissive wave. “Why do you mention that name whenever we meet?” He asked. “I’ve even heard the others mention it. Especially that woman. Elena. She says it in such a strange way. And then Volk and the others tell her ‘she needs to let go’ or something like that.” That look of disgust slowly shifted into a crooked grin. “Do you know why?”
Bones’ nose wrinkled. Playing games. “You know exactly why.”
“Do I?”
Bones only tilted his head and took a harsh bite out of his food. That made the Hunter chuckle.
“Can’t fool you. I do talk too much.” Just one of his flaws. The dangers of hunting humans and spending too much time around them. “But why do you bring it up?”
“Because you might be him.” Bones said bluntly. “Or may have imprints of his brain, since you know the Reapers so well.”
“Be him?” Kon-Ris almost sounded offended if he didn’t start laughing. He nearly doubled over hearing the absurd statement. “Do you think my Masters’ would waste resources on some measly human that allowed themselves to be captured to uplift them to this higher state of being? Please…” He laughed again. “I am not my brother, nor am I as insane as he is. At least They learned from that mistake. I’m molding from the ground up like my sister. Better results.”
Bones watched the Chosen cackle at the “absurd idea.” He couldn’t tell if he was being truthful or still playing games. Have to keep digging for the truth.
Kon-Ris wiped away a few tears that had formed as he recomposed himself. “You’re most likely right on the ‘memory imprints’ since you know that’s how those lovely little vat-clones, the few converted, are prepped for their thrall lives!” He chuckled.
“Whoever that poor sap this Tomko was is most likely dead. You know how the Elders work. They pick you apart molecule by molecule and memory by memory to take the best stuff for Themselves. Whatever is left is ground down into a fine paste for Their myriad of projects. Or,” he paused, raising a finger, “ used for that ‘reclaimed protein’. Can’t let a thing go to waste. Advent burgers!” He even sang the little jingle.
Bones just ate and listened. He recorded the conversation; besides lodging a few notes here and there, he would check later… if he was still living. There were some truths in what the Hunter spoke, but he had to continue doing his research for the rest.
He pulled up a few files he had on hand and skimmed through them. Think those deaths scrambled your brains, the Elders are hiding it from you, or you’re lying. From what fragments of data we’ve been able to find so far, you weren’t made like your sister. You were someone. An adult. Before you were changed. Like Dhay-Vol. That poor kid.
“Thinking about my creation…” Kon-Ris let his voice trail off as he tugged on a stubborn piece of bread. “Sometimes… I wonder when the Elders won’t just snatch Dhay-Vol and me back to the labs to break us down and make better replacements due to our faults. It looks like they finally got it right with our sister. The right balance of everything.”
What would have been a dark, unsavory thought and horrible fate to most of the Elders’ subjects, the Hunter liked to entertain the idea from time to time. He loathed working for Them; so much hypocrisy, and he felt They were lazy. He hated Their constant chatter, which had thankfully become more akin to background noise compared to the active chatter Dhay-Vol loved and the occasional taps Jax-Rai did for advice and the more subdued, honored praise she would give Them.
"Greater battle,” this, "higher purpose,” that. At the end of the day, the killing is just the same. Kon-Ris rolled his eyes just thinking about it.
He snapped up the piece of bread. As he chewed, he tapped at his chin. “No, no, no.” He shook his head and let out a wistful sigh. “The resource drain and time would make it counterproductive in Their eyes.” The Elders could be so strange with how They handled Their projects. Some were more wasteful than others and were pure vanity projects.
Ga’rox copying Raal’Maker. Ah, how petty of Dhay-Vol’s father. Though Raal’Maker stretches himself thin with all the projects he starts when he should be focused on the main ones. Yet… he has shown a great amount of progress with his ideas… before the Others end them. I wonder how that one project of his has been recycled? Wouldn’t mind helping with tests. Heard They’ve turned one into an undying menace that becomes rather nasty when he resurrects on the field. I need to see that for myself. A grin slowly crept across his face. Thinking of recycling.
“Heh, heh, heh…” He chuckled. “Though that didn’t stop my Masters from making those ‘protos’ before and after us to test different ventures before recycling them to become our Stronghold Overseers.” His grin began to fade, his upper lip lifted in disgust. “And of course, I’m gifted the most annoying one of the bunch to ‘keep me in line.’ Wish-Ta… Tch.” He spat.
He wasn’t too fond of them. An experiment where the Elders were fusing the psionic signatures of several subjects to make a gestalt hive mind. It was a success, but as usual in Their infinite wisdom, They pushed too far during one infusion process, causing Wish-Ta to snap. The once stable collective of minds was thrown out of order. Mixed memories collided. Personalities clashed. One took over and caused a great deal of damage to the Facility before they were subdued.
Wish-Ta was slated for termination, but one of the Elders wanted to see if Wish-Ta could be stabilized once more by applying some of the methods Maker used for the Information Broker project. The methods were applied, and Wish-Ta’s fragmented mind became more stabilized, but was no longer suited for their original purpose, as personalities would still clash from time to time.
Wish-Ta was put in stasis until the Hunter’s issues arose, and the Elders couldn’t ignore him blatantly neglecting his duties of maintaining the territories he controlled. Wish-Ta was pulled from stasis, and with a little reworking, the Elders put them in control of maintaining Kon-Ris’ Stronghold and territories, besides being the “nagging” voice of reason when the Hunter would blatantly ignore a Reaper Cell, causing problems. It barely helped the latter problem compared to the former.
“Back to counterproductive… I’ll share a few secrets with you.” Kon-Ris smiled. “The Elders poured a great deal of Their power into Dhay-Vol, besides further modifying his body so it could handle such amplified psionics has been rather tough for Them to replicate. Dhay-Vol is one in a million. And me?” He placed his hand on his chest, puffing it out just a little. “Maybe you humans, you Reapers, have some sort of mind virus the Elders don’t want to risk ‘damaging’ one of Their children again.” He grinned. “Imprinting your data on the next poor sap’s mind would probably just make another me.”
“Humanity is infectious.” Bones joked.
“Indeed. I rather like it. Makes my life less mind-numbing.” Kon-Ris laughed. “Them, on the other hand.” He rolled his eyes.
Kon-Ris leaned back for a moment, tossing his head back, causing his hood to jostle. He looked at the sky. “Though… I think I’ve heard some chatter in the weave…” His voice trailed off as he sorted through his memories. “Heard that my Masters’ may be thinking of trying Their luck again. A fourth ‘child of the gods.’ Their magnum opus. A perfected child. Their perfect Tactician.”
Bones was mid-bite when he heard that. If he had swallowed, he would have choked. I hope the bastard is lying. The world doesn’t need a 4th headache running around. Especially if the Elders finally work out all the kinks.
Bones didn’t even have a chance to ask a question before the Hunter continued to blabber. Once he started talking, he enjoyed the sound of his own voice.
Kon-Ris wasn’t entirely sure if the rumor was true or not, but had a feeling it was true. Just like for the creation of his sister, there were shifting signs around the world that there was a nuisance the Elders needed to be taken care of, and ADVENT and the alien forces were not cutting it. Someone out there, some faction, was actively trying to get all the scattered Cells and other Factions to put aside their differences and band together. It was slow-moving, but it was showing some success in regions ADVENT didn’t fully cover. The Elders did not like that. They especially hated how this banding force was searching for something They held, and was causing more problems.
Bones listened intently. Something about what he was talking about sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember. He hadn’t been keeping up with what new Factions had been popping up. Most died within a few months. But he could faintly recall one of his Void Walker contacts talking about some force from the Old World that had clawed its way back to the light and was putting in the work that looked like it would kick off a true resistance in the coming years.
Can’t remember the name. Let’s see if I saved that conversation. While still listening, he started searching his systems for that old conversation. Before he got too deep, he received another call from his people.
Everyone had made it out. Just in time, too, as he could hear the familiar buzz of those dread-causing engines coming in.
The Factions had split into usual groups, with the Reapers leading, to minimize them being tracked back to the rendezvous point. The other snipers still had his unwanted “companion” in their sights, and they had a trump card to get him out of the pinch.
Trump card? What are you guys planning? Sending a mental thought via his gear, Bones questioned what they said.
They informed him that sometime after the first convoy made it back to the hideout, the Void Walkers had arrived. And they had brought some of their Templar friends, and one didn’t mind lending a hand once the news of the Hunter intruding on the raid reached them. They said he would like this person. A pop-in-and-out specialist. One that he knew.
Bones wasn’t too keen on the idea, as he knew that Kon-Ris, despite loathing his psionics, would be able to detect a Templar coming his way. But then something clicked in his mind. I would like this one? I know this one? His mind searched a little more before he smiled. He didn’t try to hide it. Jaunt. Someone’s looking down on me today.
If his guess was right, he knew the Templar and was good friends with them. He quickly hashed out a plan that he wanted them to relay to the others and the Templar. On his mark, they would fire at Kon-Ris, and he would leap off the cliff. He could survive the fall if Jaunt missed her catch, but for as long as he had known her, she rarely ever did.
Just as their conversation ended, the first Dropship flew overhead, followed by another and another.
With a few thoughts, Bones engaged his cloaking field, causing his body to flicker for a moment before it completely disappeared. The untrained eye would just see the boulder and greenery, but an observant eye would catch a faint distortion hanging in the air.
Kon-Ris laughed as soon as he noticed the man disappear. He could see the imprints of something resting on the grass, besides his enhanced vision could see the distortion clear as day, so he knew he was still there. He didn’t need to even tap at his psionics to see him.
“What? Afraid of them spotting you?” He asked. “You don’t think I can’t shield you from the Network if one spots you?”
“I’d rather be safe than sorry. Especially, with how your mind works, and if the Elders notice you slacking.” Bones aid.
“Tch.” He shook his head. “Fair dinkum.”
Kon-Ris straightened his posture before he finally pulled his rifle, Darklance, off his back. “Give me a moment. I want to see who they sent.”
“Going to shoot them?” Bones carefully eyed the rifle.
“No… Not right now. I want to enjoy my break.” He smiled.
Bones just kept a careful eye on him and told his people not to act as the Hunter did his thing. The Chosen mumbled name and unit type as he scanned each Dropship as it unloaded its units. All ADVENT. No aliens. Nothing special. Nothing fun.
“Ah, there’s a Purifier. Smart if that gas is still around.” Kon-Ris made one last comment before he put his rifle away. “They’ll probably send in the humans after they’ve swept the place for any surprises you Reapers like leaving.” He looked at Bones with a crooked grin. He was still expecting the place to blow up sometime soon.
“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Bones said plainly. Kon-Ris chuckled.
“Back to our conversation,” Kon-Ris picked up a piece of meat and snapped it up, “did you figure out what I was talking about?”
Dammit. That call distracted me. He reactivated the search.“You’ve been yammering on about a lot of things. Refresh me.” He rolled his hand. He had forgotten some of the details. He nearly swatted the Hunter when he felt a few jabs to the side of his head.
“You’re getting old if you’re forgetting what I said that fast. Need another treatment?”
Bones’ lips pulled back as he bared his teeth. “I would rather not be crippled again to get that.” His voice was low, with a faint, threatening thrum to it.
“But you got some mighty fine upgrades in return. Hmmm?” He cocked his head to the side. “I’ve seen the recorded videos. You’ve been enjoying them.”
“Refresh me.” Bones wanted to get back on track. He wanted to keep memories of that dreadful time at bay.
Kon-Ris jabbed the side of Bones’ visor one last time before retracting his finger. “Do a comparison search for everything dealing with the Old World and old organizations in that fancy visor of yours. I know you can.” He stated. “Look for ones that should be dead but are slowly coming back to life as they search for a lost head. Or heads.”
Bones’ nose wrinkled. That barely scratches the surface and would take too long. “Care to spare more details?”
“Lazy. But I’ll give you more hints. This one was a major thorn in my Master’s side as They tested humanity. How my Masters’ though They had everything in the palm of Their hands until things started to turn and this thorn killed one of Them. Or two… They don’t like to talk about that too much.”
Bones’ was half listening as he was scanning his visor until he caught what was said. That sounds impossible. Those bastards never made an appearance until the “peace talks.” “You’re kidding me?”
“I’m not lying. My Masters played a dangerous game and one of Them paid for it… But as you see,” he gestured around them and towards the units on the ground, “They won in the end.”
As usual, Bones wasn’t totally sure if Kon-Ris was being truthful, but with how he was spilling the news of a potential old blunder of the Elders, he was more inclined to believe it.
“Wait…” Bones’ eyes narrowed as something was coming to his mind.
The memories were faint, with some being rougher than others, as he had dealt with so many things in his lifetime; it was impossible to keep solid memories of everything. But there was something from those days during the Invasion that was becoming clear. There had been reports of a secret military organization that had been appearing across the globe in response to the various activities and terror the aliens were causing; whether it was a major city, a small town, or somewhere out in the desert or backwoods, they would answer it and fight hard, giving the aliens hell. Eventually, reports indicated that they began running more high-tech gear, including what appeared to be reverse-engineered prototypes of the aliens’ plasma weaponry. The aliens still had the advantage over humanity, but it seemed like the organization would be the paradigm shift for them to finally turn the tide in humanity’s favor.
But it didn’t. The test was over. Bones shook his head. He wondered what the trigger was for the Elders to finally pull out all stops. Several major cities were wiped off the face of the world.
Kon-Ris continued to blabber, ignoring Bones’ mumbling. “How my Masters’ caught the troublesome snake before it was the end with such an underhanded tactic. They cut off its heads. Gutted the bodies. But made sure to take the prime head. Buuuut…” He let his voice linger on that word. Just a test to see if—
“Talk. No reason to stop now.” Bones was listening.
“Heh. Without Them realizing it, the prime head had bitten itself before the body was fully severed, and in doing so damaged the others, thus ruining some of my Masters’ machinations down the line.”
Bones let out a throaty hm. Another convoluted puzzle he had to figure out.
A second later, his visor alerted him to potential search matches.
“What a story.” Bones said. Just a way to let the Hunter know he was still listening as he began to go through the matches.
As names and insignias ticked by one by one on his visor, one caught his attention. Wait… Stop! Go back by two. As soon as he laid his eyes on that pentagon shape, old memories became clear as day. XCOM. They’re coming back?
A name he hadn’t heard in years. When some bandits weren’t posing as them. Always fun taking people like down a few pegs to set them straight.
But is XCOM truly coming back? Remember crossing paths with them back then... The memories were distant, but he remembered the outfit having worked with them in a roundabout manner for some of the wetwork he was tasked with.
He fired up a few more searches to see if he had missed anything over the months and years, cross-referencing all the nonsense Kon-Ris had been jabbering on about. Various broken snippets from file incursions were pinged. All of them dealt with quid pro quo work he did for the Void Walkers for one of their clients who wanted to remain in the shadows. They were looking for various resources, ranging from some mundane alien alloys to major ship parts. And then there were frequent “missing persons” requests. Most of it dealt with military personnel. They were searching for important people. Most likely those “heads” Kon-Ris talked about.
Huh… Looks like I’ve got some questions to ask the Void Walkers and some investigating to do. Bones sent off a few data packets to his people as a precaution. He wanted to poke the bear and see if what he found was accurate.
“Now, would this ‘thorn’ like the colors: green, brown, and blue?” Bones asked Kon-Ris.
Raising a hand, the Chosen gingerly waved it around. “It was some of their favored colors.”
“Sounds… military.”
Kon-Ris snorted. “Wasn’t the entire world’s military forces fighting back then? You can do better than that.”
“More specialized military. The kind that has backing from the shadows and keeps its identity hidden. Clandestine.” Bones continued. “Something like I did back in the day.”
Kon-Ris’ eyes shimmered with excitement. “Now, you’re getting somewhere.”
“Huh? Am I?” He joked back. “Guess my age hasn’t killed my memories. They may be a little fuzzy, but I think I remember the shape of their insignia.” Adjusting his cloak to reveal only his arm. Raising a finger, he drew the shape of the symbol. The cloak covered the arm again.
The Hunter clapped. “Now, does that old mind of yours remember their name?”
“That? Hmmmm.” Bones cocked his head to the side. ”I’m not too sure. That’s on the muddled side of my brain.”
“Aww.” Kon-Ris pouted. “And here I thought you were —”
Bones cut him off. “But… I think there was an ‘X’ in there somewhere.”
Kon-Ris’ eyes flashed with more excitement. “Oh, you know.” How he wished he could see Bones’ face. Was he wearing a smug grin like him?
Bones only gave a faint chuckle. It could have been a yes or a no to the Hunter. But he had his answers and knew he had some research to do in the future.
Time to make my leave. Let’s see how he reacts to me getting up. He sent off a few messages to his people to get ready.
With a few clicks and clacks, he closed and stacked the food containers and stuffed them into his backpack. He wasn’t going to let the odd treat go to waste.
“I see I have research to do.” He said as he got up, making sure to pick up his rifle and the middle part of his mask. “More places to hit. More chances to make your Masters’ angry.” Ocne on his feet, he tapped his heels against the boulders a few times to knock away the numbness.
“And I look forward to it.” Kon-Ris leaned back. With how he was kicking his legs, he seemed rather uninterested that Bones was moving. “And hunting you and your friends. You’re more fun than Volk and his lot. Much more engaging than Fayrez.” He shook his head. “The Frost Owl shoots first, never talks. You shoot and talk.”
“The same song and dance as always.” Bones acknowledged their macabre fate as he clicked his mask back into place.
Some days, he wondered who would die first. It would most likely be himself since he was far from figuring out the Chosen’s secrets to their immortality. And he was far away from figuring out his true identity, and if there was a chance to force the old personality to resurface and free him.
Still praying it isn’t you, Tomko. For your sake and Elena’s.
Hearing the comment about Fayrez made him snort. “She’s old and crabby. Give her a break.” It was a joke, but he had to defend his friend.
“You’re old and not crabby.” Kon-Ris pointed at him. “I believe my judgment is fair.”
Bones rolled his eyes. “I question why I entertain you and your questionable nature when I’m in a fair mood.” He shook his head. He was still peeved in more ways than one, but the conversation enlightened him. He was champing at the bit to do some searching. “Especially this evening. Eating with the blue-skinned devil of all people…”
“Bingo.” Kon-Ris gave a thumbs up. “Maybe you do so because I’m your favorite adversary. You are my favorite human.”
“In your dreams, you bastard.”
Kon-Ris waved him off. “You’d best get going before that coding haze you have on the Outpost wears off and the Elders learn I’m here. They’ll be yelling at me to kill you. And tell your fellow snipers hi.” Looking all around to a few key positions far off in the distance, he waved. “I know they have me dead in their sights.”
Hearing that didn’t surprise Bones. The Chosen probably had access to the geographic layout of the land and, with the help of the Network, could pinpoint advantageous spots for a sniper. Or, he had stalked the area before the raid began and found each location before he came back around to him.
Bones stuck a foot off the cliff. He let his cloak drop.
“Until we meet again, you loon.” The man said before letting himself tip forward and fall.
“Love you too, old geezer.” Kon-Ris eyes lit up as he watched him fall. “I knew you’d love those leg upgrades!”
The Hunter kept a trained eye on the Reaper, expecting him to right himself so he wouldn’t meet an untimely end by hitting the ground improperly
Instead, he felt something. A sudden surge of power that made his pupils narrow. It was ripping through those faint psionic currents of the earth at a breakneck speed. The next second, a ping rang out, followed by a bright flash of purple just beside Bones. He recognized the style of the armor and the flowing fabrics. Then those bulging purple veins that flowed with potent energies.
“Ah! You’re friends with a Templar! Shouldn’t expect anything less from you!”
A second later, the Templar wrapped their arm around Bones. With another ping and a flash of purple, they were gone.
Kon-Ris could feel the energy surge to somewhere far off in the distance. He chuckled, grinning ear to ear.
“He’s worth keeping around. Keeps me sane and entertained. And gives me a purpose.” He liked the man too much to kill him. And then he always had a faint thought, if he killed all the Reapers, would the Elders still have a use for him?
“Hm?” He felt another shift. This one is coming from the Network. His eyes narrowed as that smile faded and a frown took its place. “And the security has finally worked out the issue and is making several investigations junctions for stolen data and gear. Boo. Looks like my break is over.” And then he could hear the whispers of the Elders starting to seep into his head again.
With a huff and a wave of his hand, he teleported his food way before getting up. As he did so, he performed a few gestures with his hands, causing his eyes to flash a few times. A little trick he picked up from a Templar he killed years ago. He could put a few locks on his mind, dealing with his recent memories, to keep the Elders out for a while. He didn’t feel like hearing Their ranting right now.
“Let’s get back to work and see what mess Bones left.”
He stepped off the cliff and activated his grappling hook, catching the edge, so he could descend safely. He didn’t feel like teleporting.